When Fiona finally made her way up the grand staircase that evening, her stomach was so unsettled she feared she might be violently ill. Ahead of her, her sisters whispered and giggled with their husbands before calling a hasty, “good night” to her and Edward as they disappeared toward whichever room they had planned to occupy that night. All appeared self-assured and eager, while Fiona felt a mixture of excitement and dread. This was going to be the most important night of her life, and she didn’t want to muck it up. On the contrary, she wanted it to be everything Edward hoped it would be. In short, she wanted him to be pleased and satisfied with his decision to make her his wife.

“I think you need to relax,” he said when they reached the landing and turned left.

“I am relaxed.”

Her lie was met with a chuckle. “Whatever concerns are occupying that pretty head of yours, I do wish you’d put them to rest.”

She had no chance to respond before her feet were swept out from underneath her, and she was being lifted up into the air only to find herself suddenly – and rather awkwardly – flung across his shoulder as he marched along the hallway. “Edward!” Her outraged remark was punctuated by an unwilling squeal of laughter when he gave her backside a solid slap.

“I told you I might have to set you across my knees for a spanking.”

“Put me down!” She tried to kick her legs, which proved difficult since they were being restrained by an incredibly strong arm. Good heavens! When on earth had Edward managed to become so fit? Or maybe he’d always been so, and she hadn’t noticed because she’d been seeing him in a different, more brotherly, light?

Well, that was no longer the case. She was now acutely aware of the wide shoulder on which her belly rested and the fact he carried her as though she weighed nothing at all.

“Just a moment,” she heard him say with a touch of humor infusing his voice. He paused to open a door, then continued on through to a room, kicking the door shut with the heel of his shoe, while her head dangled against his back and her arms did what they could to punch at his sides.

“Stop it, you willful little hoyden.” He spun around, making her squeal once more. Good lord, whatever would the rest of the household think they were up to? She wriggled her bottom, and he muttered something beneath his breath before she felt his hands on her waist. They lifted her down and planted her unceremoniously on the floor.

She stared at his bright expression, at his animated eyes, those lips that curved with unmistakable mischief, dimpling on either side. It brought out her own playful nature while emboldening her with the memory of what it had always been like between them. Why couldn’t it remain that way once they were married? She had no answer for that, so she chose instead to take a step back, edging her way around the bed and offering him the most teasing look she could manage. “You’re obviously up to no good as usual,” she declared. Her fingers trailed along the nearest bedpost.

He took a step forward, and she retreated once more. “Will you reprimand me?” His hands went to his neck, unfastening his cravat while her eyes followed the movement with fascinated curiosity.

“Should I?” She’d no idea what she was saying or why, but the words seemed to add a curious sense of urgent expectation to the overall mood of the room. Her mouth went dry when he shrugged out of his jacket and tossed his cravat aside.

His eyes studied her with a wolfish gleam she recognized from when he’d straddled her in the forest and kissed her in the maze. It heated her skin and melted her insides, producing a gooey mess only he would be able to put to right once more.

“I think not,” he murmured, still moving toward her. She’d reached the other side of the bed, her eyes hastily taking in the massive size of the mattress. He followed her gaze and smiled. “On the contrary, I think it is I who should reprimand you.”

“On what grounds?” Was that really her voice? It had never sounded so sultry before.

“On account of the fact that you take no pity in stripping me of my senses.” He lunged for her, but she quickly avoided his grasp, laughing with unabashed glee as she leapt onto the bed and bounced to the opposite side. He flung himself after her, forcing a shriek from her when he caught her around the waist and sent her toppling. “Got you!”

She landed with him on top, his hands caging her as he held her in place with his body. Her breaths faltered and awareness set in – his hard planes pressing her into the soft mattress, his legs snug against hers while he braced himself on his elbows and gazed down at her upturned face.

Swallowing, he shifted his gaze to her lips, and the grin he’d been wearing instantly faded. And then he was suddenly kissing her, his mouth chasing hers with a hunger she’d never believed possible, while his hands – the same hands that had helped her down from the stable roof once and tickled her senseless whenever they’d played – were seemingly everywhere. They stroked along her thigh, grabbed at her waist, pressed against her breasts and wound their way through her hair, while tugging and tearing her clothes from her body with a swift efficiency that left her marveling at his skill.

“God help me, I cannot wait.” He pulled off his own clothes and settled himself between her thighs.

“Then don’t.” Her eyes met his, and she arched up against him – a natural instinct that brought him closer – inviting him to join his body with hers in the most elemental way possible. And so he did, his nimble fingers easing the otherwise painful transition and filling her body with light and warmth and an ever-increasing need for more.

“Fiona.” Her name was wrenched from him on a growl of wanton pleasure when he rocked his hips forward, teaching her the movements that would send them both soaring. And soar they did, while kisses rained down on both their faces and fingers splayed across their heated flesh. It brought a sensory satisfaction so intense, Fiona was certain she saw stars spark behind her eyes as she fell apart in his arms.

“I love you,” he whispered against her ear.

“As I love you,” she promised, clinging to him for support while he carried her through their passionate storm.

For long moments after, she felt as though she was drifting in a languorous, dreamlike state. Then his arm wound around her, catching her weightless limbs in a tight embrace that secured her to his side. His lips grazed her temple, and he curled himself around her, molding their bodies together beneath the thick duvet.

Peering through the darkness at the leaded glass window, Fiona saw that snow was falling once more. A beam of moonlight illuminated the tiny flakes that fell to the ground like blossoms spilling from fruit trees. The effect was made all the more magical with the sound of wood crackling in the fireplace and the feel of her husband hugging her tight. “This has, without a doubt, been the best day of my life,” she whispered.

His lips found her shoulder in a tender caress. “Merry Christmas,” he murmured as he swept her away on another wave of pleasure.