Page 28 of Hunting for a Highlander (Highland Brides 8)

Pleased that she wasn’t arguing or fussing, Geordie bent and kissed her nose. It wasn’t until he straightened and noticed the surprise on her face, and then glanced around to see the interest on his brothers’ faces, that Geordie realized what he’d done. Shrugging, he told Aulay, “I would have a word with ye.”

“Aye.” Aulay stood at once even as Alick settled on the bench next to Dwyn’s feet and grinned up at her.

“No’ yet,” Geordie said, waving Aulay back to his seat. “After Rory returns and I carry Dwyn to wherever it is he wants to examine her.”

“Alick can do that,” Aulay pointed out.

“Aye,” Alick said, popping up off the bench at once. “I’d be pleased to carry—”

“Ye’re no’ touching her,” Geordie barked. “So get that out o’ yer head and sit yer arse down.” He waited until Alick had sat down, and then turned to Aulay to find his brother eyeing him with interest. When Aulay’s gaze shifted to Dwyn, Geordie followed his gaze to her and he frowned when he saw the concern on her face. She was obviously confused by what was going on, and starting to fret.

“Everything is fine,” he assured her in a soft voice. “Just rest here a minute.”

When she relaxed a little, he waved at Aulay to follow and walked over to stand near the doors to the kitchen. Turning to face his brother, he opened his mouth, and then paused, searching for where to start.

Before he could figure it out, Aulay asked, “Have ye slept with her?”

“Nay,” Geordie snapped, glad he hadn’t and could answer that honestly. “But I’m marrying her.”

“I’m glad,” Aulay said at once, not seeming terribly surprised. “I like her. So does Jetta.”

Geordie smiled faintly at the words. “She’s a smart, sweet, honest and lovely lass who laughs as easily as most lassies weep.”

“Aye,” Aulay began. “Well, then, we should—”

“She’s worth more than all the other women here combined,” Geordie added.

“Her father—” Aulay tried again.

“I’ve never met a more sensitive lass either,” Geordie informed him.

Aulay paused to frown at that. “Sensitive as in weepy, or—?”

“Nay,” he said with disgust. “At least I do no’ think so, else Catriona and Sasha’s antics would have had her in tears. I meant something as small as a light caress down her arm can make her shiver and break out in goose bumps, and mere kisses can make her mewl and moan with need, and—”

“Aye, well, I would no’ tell her father that,” Aulay said dryly, interrupting his explanation. He paused briefly, but then asked, “Are ye sure, Geordie? Ye have no’ kenned the woman long.”

“How long did it take ye to decide ye wanted Jetta to wife?” Geordie countered.

“I take yer point,” Aulay said wryly.

“It does no’ take long to sort out whether a lass is a good woman or no’,” Geordie said solemnly. “And once ye do, if ye’re lucky enough to burn to bed her, I figure ye’ve found yerself a wife.”

“Aye,” Aulay agreed, and then straightened. “Then if ye’re sure ye want to marry the lass, I guess we’d best talk to her father.”

“Aye, I’m positive I do,” Geordie assured him. “Tonight.”

“What?” Aulay asked with surprise, and immediately started to shake his head. “Ye canno’—”

“I am,” he said grimly.

“Geordie,” Aulay began with exasperation. “Surely ye can wait the week or two it would take fer Saidh and our brothers to make their way here to—”

“Certainly I could,” he admitted, though he wasn’t sure that was true. Dwyn was like a fever in his blood. He needed to bed her. “But I do no’ want to.”

“Sometimes, ye canno’ do what ye want,” Aulay said firmly. “And if her father wishes to delay . . .”

“I suggest ye help me convince him no’ to wait,” Geordie said grimly. “Because while the wedding may wait, I canno’, and I would really rather she be mine ere I take her maiden’s veil . . . tonight.”

---