BECAUSE GRACE’S FAMILY was never very good at following instructions, the rest of the evening was spent joking around and planning what they would do in Edinburgh over the next few days. Max, Spencer, and Grace’s father retrieved the “best burgers in town,” according to Max, and Grace had to admit, they were pretty darn good.

Once Maggie was released from the hospital, Max stayed true to his promise and guided the family all over Edinburgh, including an all-access tour of Edinburgh Castle, into rooms only docents and royalty were typically allowed into. He showered the family with attention and gave them a trip they’d never forget.

When it was time for them to separate—the Wilsons to fly home, and Grace and Max to head to Inverness—Grace could hardly wait for Christmas. They’d promised to meet in Whitefish, Montana for the holidays. Grace’s grandparents had a home on the lake, and Max promised they wouldn’t miss it.

Grace and Max waited at security until her family had to get to their gate. He’d ensured they were in first class, and Grace knew they’d never be able to top this trip, even though it had started out on such a sad note.

“Don’t cry, honey. We’re going to see you in a couple of months,” her mother said.

“I know, but still, I’m going to miss my Mama,” Grace said as she hugged her.

“You better.”

Grace giggled through the tears and hugged her father and Spencer and Maggie. Max did the same and then wrapped his arm around Grace’s waist, forcing her not to run after her family.

When her family was out of sight, Max guided her out of the main entrance and to where Bruce waited to drive them to the private runway. She didn’t say much as they arrived at Max’s plane and boarded, but her melancholy started to lift as they took their seats.

“We’ll call them as soon as we get home,” Max promised.

“Flight attendants, prepare for take-off,” the captain said over the loud speaker.

Grace smiled as she buckled her seatbelt. She was no longer nervous about flying and had actually grown quite accustomed to the private plane. “I’m okay, baby. I just needed a minute to adjust. It’s weird being more than ten minutes from them, you know?”

“I know. Your whole life has changed within a matter of a few months.”

She took his hand. “In the absolute best of ways. And now I get to see our home, which I cannot wait to fill with babies.”

He kissed her. “Thank you for calling it ‘our’ home. Please feel free to change anything you want.”

“Are you really not going to tell me anything about it?” She frowned. “Not even when it was built?”

“It was finished in 1901.” He smiled. “I like to say it was started in the Victorian era and completed in the Edwardian...makes it sound very posh.”

Grace laughed. “Or very pretentious.”

He nodded. “Aye, that too, probably. I love you.”

“Not more than I love you.”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure I out-love you.”

She shook her head. “Not possible.”

“As soon as we level off, I’m going to prove it.”

She gasped. “Why, Mr. MacMillan, are you inviting me to join the Mile-High Club?”

Max leaned over and kissed her. “Yes, Mrs. MacMillan, I am.”

Grace clapped her hands. “I hope you can show me several of the activities available with my membership.”

“I’ll be happy to demonstrate as many as time allows.”

She laughed. “Well, Mr. MacMillan, I must let your boss know how attentive a tour guide you are.”

“No need for that. You can just show me your appreciation.”

The seatbelt sign clicked off and Max unbuckled them both and pushed her gently down the hallway and into their private bedroom.

After tugging off her T-shirt, he unzipped her jeans and pushed them down her hips, panties and all. He knelt in front of her and pressed his face into her pussy, running his thumb along her clit.

“Max,” she rasped, sliding her hands into his hair.

“Spread, baby.”

She did, and he pressed his fingers against her opening, then slid three inside of her. Grace dropped her head back, gripping his head harder to keep herself upright.

He replaced his mouth with his thumb, standing and kissing her as he guided her onto the bed, continuing to finger fuck her to oblivion. “Max, I can’t wait.”

“Don’t wait,” he retorted, but moved between her legs again and covered her core with his mouth.

His fingers pumped into her as he sucked her clit, but when he bit down gently, Grace cried out, gripping his hair as she came.

He lapped at her, then kissed one thigh then the other. “Fuckin’ honey, baby.”

“More.”

Max grinned, standing and removing his clothing before hovering over her and slipping inside of her. Grace wrapped her legs around him and lifted up to get closer.

Max sat up on his knees, taking her with him, staying connected and slid his hand to her neck, tugging her forward to kiss her. Grace anchored her hands on his shoulders so she could move...lifting up and down, and riding him while she fucked his mouth with her tongue.

When she felt her climax build, Max gripped her hips and stilled her movements.

Wait.

She growled, still ramming her tongue into his mouth and gripping his hair as she fought against his hold. He chuckled in her mind, sucking her tongue gently as he ran his hands over her ass.

Max.

You need something?

She pulled back, cupping his face and frowning. “You will fucking make me come right now or you and I are gonna have a problem.”

Max dropped his head back and laughed, but he did shift her onto her back so he could bury himself deeper, if not slower.

“Max!” she hissed.

“Harder, baby?”

“Yes, Max, harder, damn it.”

He grinned, slamming into, not stopping until she exploded, kissing him again and smiling like a well-fed kitten. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

Max kissed her again and then he spent the next two hours proving just how much he loved her and showing her all the benefits the Mile-High Club had to offer.

* * *

Bruce drove the couple through the double iron gates at the entrance of Max’s property, and Max pulled a necktie from his pocket.

Grace raised an eyebrow. “What is that for?”

He grinned. “Not what you think, although, we can certainly use it later if you like.”

“Naughty man.” She bit her lip. “But, yes, please. Later let’s have some fun.”

She saw him swallow and bit back a squeal of joy. Her title of sex kitten was firmly back in place.

“For now, it’s a makeshift blindfold.” Max smiled. “Close your eyes.”

She did as he asked and he wrapped the tie over her eyes, securing it gently but firmly around her head. When the car stopped, Max kissed her cheek. “Stay right here. I’ll come and get you.”

Grace nodded and waited until she felt his hands grip hers.

“Okay, love, slide forward and set your feet on the ground.”

She did.

“Good. Now, watch your head.” Max put his hand on her head and helped her from the car. “Keep your eyes closed.”

Grace nodded and waited as he untied her blindfold.

“Open,” he whispered, kissing her neck.

Grace let out a quiet gasp. The whitewashed brick of the massive house gleamed in the sun. Ivy wove its way up one side of the house, adding to the historical façade, while the cobblestone courtyard offered the perfect welcome that led to the blue seven-foot-tall, six-foot-wide double doors at the front.

“Oh, Max. It’s magnificent,” she said as tears filled her eyes.

“Do you think so?” He frowned. “Why are you crying?”

“You don’t understand,” she said, and wiped her tears. “Bruce, may I have that little plaid bag, please.”

“Aye, ma’am.”

He opened the trunk and pulled Grace’s bag out for her, laying it on top of the car hood for easy access. She unzipped it and pulled out the battered manila envelope her mother had given her with the mementos from her childhood. She rifled through it, found what she was looking for, and handed it to Max. “Look.”

Max gently unfolded the picture and studied it.

“I drew that. When I was seven. For whatever reason, Mom felt compelled to keep it. Look at it.”

“I am, baby,” he said, and held it up.

The house, drawn in crayon, was almost identical to his. Not quite as large as Max’s home, and with a few minor differences, but blue front doors and whitewashed brick, and a weather vane in the shape of a rooster on the roof.

“Turn it over,” she instructed.

He did and grinned. On the back, in Grace’s childish handwriting, was Lady Grace Annabelle Wilson’s house.

“I obviously assumed I’d keep my maiden name when I got married,” she said.

He laughed. “Well, welcome home, Lady Grace Annabelle Wilson MacMillan.”

She giggled through the tears and threw herself into his arms. “I love you, Laird Maximilian George MacMillan.”

As Max lifted her into his arms and carried her over the threshold of her new home, Grace sent up a silent prayer of thanks for the man she could have never imagined was real and for the joy she knew would last a lifetime.

* * *