“Will ye marry me?”
Beth dropped to her knees before him. She nodded, her lips trembling. “Yes, Boyd. Yes, a thousand times.”
Beth cupped his stubbled jaw, her thumb tracing the contours of his face. A life with him was now so close she could taste it.
Their eyes met, and in that shared gaze, she felt a pull stronger than anything she’d known, a draw as fierce and consuming as the wild Highland winds. She leaned in, her lips meeting his, soft at first, as if savoring each moment, each breath. But his hand slid to her waist, tugging her close, and her restraint dissolved, her kiss deepening with all the yearning she’d held back, all the dreams she’d barely dared to imagine.
As their mouths moved together, her fingers tangled in his hair, her body humming with the electricity of his touch, the heat of his skin. Every brush of his lips, every tender tug of his hand against her waist, promised a future brimming with adventures, with wine tastings and vineyard escapades. She wanted it all—the storms, the wild, uncharted moments, and the peace she felt here, with him.
“Does this mean the challenges are over?”
He smiled, pressing his forehead against hers, his thumb brushing her cheek. “Never, lass. You just wait for what I planned for the harvest.”
With that, he rose, pulling her to her feet. “Come along, then.”
“Where are we going?” She blinked, caught between laughter and disbelief.
“To get married, of course.”
“These things take time. Banns must be posted for at least three weeks, and this is hardly enough to arrange a proper breakfast. My mother dreams of a grand reception, and the poor dear—”
Before she could finish, Dora walked in, her eyebrows raised. “So, the Scotsman finally showed his face. And what will you be snatching today, Mr. Sandeman?”
Boyd’s grin turned downright wicked, a glint in his eyes that sent a shiver down Beth’s spine. “Ah, Dora, ye’ve just inspired me.”
His arm snaked around Beth's waist, and the world tilted—one moment, her feet were on the carpet, the next, she was draped unceremoniously over his broad shoulder.
“Boyd Sandeman, have you lost your wits?” She thumped against his back, though not with any real conviction.
The bounce of his stride made her feel as if she were caught in some wild, ridiculously gorgeous dream.
“Careful, lass,” Boyd said, his voice thick with amusement as he secured her legs with one arm, his other hand resting possessively on her thigh. “Wouldn’t want ye tumbling down before I’ve stolen ye proper. I’m lifting my bride, as a proud Highlander should.”
“I told you, Lady Beth,” Dora said. “Those Highlanders don’t rest until they’ve carried their women off to their caves.”
“Dora!” Beth sputtered, her face flaming. “Don’t encourage him.”
His gaze landed on the cello. With a quick nod, he grabbed it by the neck with his free hand.
“And me, Mr. Sandeman? Am I invited?”
He shot Dora a wink. “Come along if you must, but don’t expect me to carry you off, too. My back will be achin’ enough on the morrow.”
Beth’s mother burst into the room. “What in heaven’s name are you doing, Mr. Sandeman?”
He barely paused, grinning. “Exactly what it looks like, Mrs. Croft. Theuncouth Scotis stealing his bride.”
Her mother gasped, clutching her pearls. “But... what about the wedding? The banns?”
“You can send for us when all is ready. No expense should be spared. Plan it fit for a princess.”
Her mother’s eyes lit up with the sparkle of all the extravagance she’d ever dreamed of. She sank into a chair, a hand pressed to her heart, practically swooning. “Oh...oh, indeed, yes. Fit for a princess.”
With Beth laughing over his shoulder, cello in one hand, and a determined stride, Boyd marched off, a Highlander on a mission to make his bride—and her entire entourage—his own.
As their carriage rattled to a stop outside Boyd’s estate, Beth glimpsed the grand entrance and, just to the side, the fountain, its waters shimmering in the afternoon light. She could feelBoyd’s pulse quicken where his hand rested on hers. This was it—their future.
When the postilion boy opened the door, Beth moved to step out, but Boyd hopped out first, a devilish gleam in his eyes.
