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“Yes. I want ye, Karta. All of you, always.” His blue eyes pierced her, the love he’d always had for her resonating deep in his look. “I can choose what—where—my life is now. And it’s you—you are my life, if you’ll have me.”
The thudding in her chest beat so hard, so loud in her head, she could barely form the words to her tongue.
She nodded. “I will have you, Dom. Always.”
{ Chapter 14 }
He stood next to her in front of the doctor with Rory and Bailey in the drawing room as witnesses. Thank the heavens they were in Scotland. The doctor was willing. Karta was willing. So he would make her his wife in this very moment.
It had been torture, the ride back to the abbey. Watching the sway of her body on the horse. His heart quickening every time she’d looked over her shoulder at him, a smile—hesitant and genuine and hopeful—on her lips. The very smile he remembered from years ago before they were parted. The smile that held the world, the future, in its depths.
But for this—Karta properly in his bed—or not so properly—he could clamp down on his straining cock.
This was more important than anything—joining them for the rest of times.
He grabbed her left hand, clasping her delicate fingers into his palm. Her skin was still cold from the ride. Something he would rectify just as soon as this doctor managed to get his cravat straightened and marry them.
One last blasted smoothing of his cravat and the doctor cleared his throat. “I’ve not done this before, so you will have to forgive me.”
Domnall’s head tilted to the doctor, keeping his voice in check. “Just the few words is all we need, good sir.”
“Right.” The doctor nodded. “Well then, face each other, I suppose.”
Domnall turned to Karta and grabbed her right hand as well.
The doctor inclined his head. “Domnall Greyford do you take Karta Williamson to be your wife?”
“I will.” So easy, the words from his mouth. Such a quick and simple trade for the only thing he’d ever wanted in his life.
The doctor turned to Karta. “Karta Williamson do you take Domnall Greyford to be your husband?”
She looked up at him, the golden flecks of honey in her brown eyes glowing, shining with love. “I will.”
A crooked smile appeared on the doctor’s face. “Well then, I suppose that is the whole of it? It seems as though there should be more—something akin to love, honor and obey, perhaps?”
“That will do.” Domnall nodded to him. He’d witnessed enough quick Scottish weddings to know they’d done the most important part.
The doctor shook his head a bit, wanting to say more, but then he shrugged his shoulders. “I guess I then pronounce you man and wife.”
Domnall’s lips were on Karta’s before the doctor finished his words.
“What the hell is going on here?” George’s nasally voice filled the drawing room.
Domnall froze in place, his lips on Karta’s as he inhaled a deep breath. If he didn’t calm in that instant, he was going to injure Lord Leviton so grievously the man would be in an asylum the rest of his days.
Control intact, Domnall lifted his head from Karta, noting her wide eyes before looking to George. “It is none of your concern, Lord Leviton.”
George dumped the two pheasants he had strung over his shoulder onto the floor of the drawing room, their carcasses thudding onto the floorboards. “Don’t tell me I have no concern, you blasted oaf. You’re manhandling my property.”
Domnall exploded. “Property—”
“My lord—” With his hands high, the doctor tried to intervene, stepping toward George.
“You don’t know what she is.” A sneer pulled George’s face tight as he pushed the doctor aside and advanced at Domnall. “You’ve let this murderous whore into your home and I have every right to her and whatever she thinks she’s doing here.” As quick as a snake he snatched Karta’s arm, yanking her away from Domnall.
Her fingers jerked out of Domnall’s grasp.
Too far.
