Cameron waited impatiently while the healer unbound their wrists, gave them her good wishes, and departed. Finally, he and Mary were alone. Blessedly alone. He closed the kirk’s door and turned back to her. She stood, hands clasped before her, a pensive expression on her face.

“Ach, Mary, love, ye are no’ afraid of me, are ye?” The thought made his chest ache.

“What? Nay. I just—dinna ken what to do next.”

Cameron chuckled in relief and moved toward her. “Dinna fash.” He cocked an eyebrow. “I do.”

She took a step back, then straightened her shoulders and held her ground.

“There’s my Mary. Strong and resolute. I love that about ye, ye ken. And I willna hurt ye. If ye tell me nay, I will stop. I promise ye that.”

“That’s a pretty open-ended promise, Cameron Sutherland. What if I told ye to stop where ye are right now?”

Her tone was teasing, so Cameron played along and froze in mid-step. He didn’t want to remain separated from Mary by more than the span of his reach, but he had made a promise, and if he meant to gain her trust, he must stand by it. Even if it meant feeling foolish, standing as awkwardly as this, for as long as she wished. “Then I will stop, as ye see. But I would hope ye would soon change yer mind and allow me to move. I want to hold ye, lass.”

“Then do so. I want ye to hold me, too.”

Cameron gave her a reassuring smile, stepped forward and folded her in his arms. “Ye feel so good, Mary, my love,” he told her, running a hand up and down her back, soothing her. “But the kirk is no place for what I want to do next. Let’s go to yer chamber.”

“Our chamber,” she corrected.

They walked arm in arm back across the bailey and into the keep. Despite her wish for secrecy, apparently Mary had decided she didn’t care who saw them. Once inside their chamber, Cameron barred the door and turned back to her.

She sighed and rested her head on his shoulder. “I canna think of another place I’d rather be,” she admitted. “I’ve wanted yer touch for so long…”

Cameron inhaled air redolent with Mary’s sweet scent, her body heat, and the banked fire in her chamber’s hearth. He planned to stir her to life as he would that fire—and very soon. “Then ye shall have my touch,” he promised, cupping her head. “And my kiss, and my love for as long as I live.”

“Handfasting is only for a year and a day.”

“I told ye once there was a kirk in our future. I meant it. Unless at the end of our year and a day ye wish to leave me, we will never part. I will never leave ye, Mary. I canna imagine my life without ye in it, now ye are mine.”

“Then kiss me, Cameron. Make me yers in all ways.”

“Are ye certain lass? We can wait. If I get ye with child…”

“Then what ye promised will come to pass, and we will be together always. I want that, too.”

Cameron didn’t need to be told twice. He kissed her, gently at first, but then she nipped his lip, her teeth firm but short of drawing blood, so he deepened the kiss. Her mouth opened to him, and her tongue met his thrust for thrust, soft moans sending thrills of need straight to his cock. Cameron couldn’t help but groan when she pressed her breasts firmly against his chest. “Mary, my love, how I want ye.”

In answer, her hands slid between them and fumbled with his belt. He eased back and let her unbuckle it. The metal clinked when it hit the floor.

“Undo my laces,” she ordered, twisting around so he could reach the ties.

He made quick work of them, surprised when she stepped away, but gratified when she slid her dress from her shoulders and down her arms. Finally. she stood in her shift and slippers, gazing at him.

“Do ye need my help?” she asked.

He realized she waited for him to undress, too. The expression on her face told Cameron she recalled the many times she had helped him dress—or undress—while he was ill. And that bath… “Nay, lass. This time, ye only need watch.” He kicked off his boots and freed the remaining yards of fabric clinging to his waist, pressed into place there by the belt. In moments, he stood before her, clad only in his shirt, his erection tenting the front, making his need for her as plain as any man could make it.

But Mary wasn’t done. With her gaze on his lower half, she untied the ribbon at the neck of her shift and let it slip down her body, leaving her nude.

Cameron’s cock jumped and beaded. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, and she was his. And soon would be his bride in truth. He pulled his shirt over his head.

Mary’s gaze went to the scar on his side, then flicked away.

“Ye needna concern yerself with that,” he reminded her. “’Tis well healed.”

When Mary’s guilty smile lit her face, he moved to her, picked her up and placed her gently in the middle of the bed, her soft laughter urging him on.

“What are ye going to do?” she asked as he leaned over her.

“Make love to my bride,” he replied and kissed her mouth, then moved to her ear, her neck, and her chest before licking and suckling each rosy nipple. Mary tangled her fingers in his hair, then tried to pull him back when he started moving lower. He kept going, kissing his way down her ribs and belly. He traced her inner thighs, then parted her intimate folds with one finger and stroked her until she writhed under his hand.

“Ach, Cam…”

“Aye, Mary, my love,” he whispered and replaced his finger with his tongue. Her hips lifted and she cried out, but he didn’t stop. She tasted so sweet, he couldn’t get enough. All too soon, she shuddered, her release making her body quake under his mouth. He’d never felt anything so exquisite. His body was primed and rock hard, ready to take her, but he waited for her breathing to steady, then asked again. “We can stop now, lass, if ye wish. I will wait for ye.”

“Ach, Cameron, I am ready. I want ye as much as ye want me. Now is nay time to think of waiting.”

Cameron moved over her and found her slippery warm entrance with the head of his erection. “I will take this slow,” he promised. “I willna hurt ye any more than I must.”

“I ken it. Make me yers.”

Cameron pushed into her welcome heat slowly, until he met the barrier of her maidenhead.

“Dinna wait,” Mary breathed.

He pushed through and stilled when she gasped, but after a moment, she nodded.

“It has stopped. I’m ready,” she said.

Cam penetrated further, then further still before pulling back.

Mary clenched around him and cried out.

“Dinna fash, lass. I’m no’ going anywhere.” He eased back in and out again until her body adjusted to his. Then he took his pleasure, carrying Mary with him to the heights he’d dreamed of finding with her.

* * *

Mary snuggled into Cameron’s side, her head on his shoulder where she could watch his broad chest rise and fall with his breath. Her hand lay across his flat belly, just above his manhood, even now firming and filling out under her gaze, readying him to make love to her again. Like the rest of him, it was large. Long and thick and more than she thought could fit within her. Yet it did, and Cameron used it to bring about a marvelous result—for her and for himself.

They were wed.

She couldn’t believe this day had finally arrived. She was a maiden no longer. A woman. A wife. With a man who loved her and wanted to make love with her. Who enjoyed seeing her body, touching her, tasting her.

Being loved by Cameron was more than she’d imagined, more than she’d ever understood being with a man could be. The physical part was wonderful, but no more so than the feelings he brought about within her—longing, but also comfort and joy. During his convalescence, he’d become her friend. Now he was her husband, and she felt stronger and safer with him by her side.

Instead of reaching for his manhood as she’d first been tempted to do, she let her thoughts lead her actions. She cupped Cameron’s face with a trembling hand and gazed up into his eyes.

He met her gaze and held it, smiling, then traced a finger down her cheek. “If I’m dreaming, dinna wake me,” he told her. “I’ve got the most beautiful, the most wonderful lass in the world in my arms.”

“And I the bravest and handsomest man in Scotland. So dinna wake me, either. Today is a day I thought would never come.”

“’Tis only because ye were waiting for me and didna ken it,” he boasted with a grin as he rolled on top of her and supported his weight on his elbows.

Mary grinned back and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “If only I’d kenned it, I wouldna spent so much time in worry.”

“Ye were never going to be alone, lass. Had I no’ found ye, some other lucky man would.”

That made her frown. “I dinna want some other man, Cameron Sutherland. I’ve got ye, and I mean to keep ye.”

“I’m glad to hear that, lass. ’Tis exactly what I want, too.”

Mary arched her back so the tips of her breasts brushed Cameron’s chest. “Is that all ye want?” she teased.

“Ye ken I want all of ye.” He swooped down and took her mouth in a plundering kiss that set her body to humming again.

She spread her legs and wrapped them around the backs of his. “Nor is it all I want, husband,” she goaded, tilting her hips to stroke his hardness against her thighs.

“Ye plan to drive me mad, do ye?”

“I do. Is it working?”

“Aye!” he exclaimed and shifted to enter her in one swift thrust.

Aye, Mary thought as she lifted her hips to match Cameron’s rhythm. She’d happily go mad right along with this man.

* * *

A few days later, Mary took three of the younger lasses into the forest to show them her favorite spots for gathering herbs and berries. Since she and Cameron were now wedded, she would eventually leave. Someone needed to know what she knew about the useful plants in the area. Seona was in confinement, and if the child she carried was not her father's, Seona might not be Lady Rose for long. At least the younger lasses would learn and remember.

Mary bent to point out a well-hidden clump of coughwort in a damp depression when an arrow whizzed over her head and buried itself in a nearby tree with a solid thunk. She whirled, looking for signs of the hunter who’d let fly at a target he couldn’t see and called out, “Stop shooting!”

She saw the next arrow coming as the words left her mouth. Shock held her immobile for a moment, then she fell to her knees shouting, “Get down!” The arrow buried itself in the tree at head height with another resounding thunk. The lass nearest her ran behind a bush. She couldn’t see the other two and hoped they’d run away, back to the keep. “There are lasses here,” she called again, fury and fear strengthening her voice. “Dinna shoot!”

Mary crawled to the lass still with her. “Come on, Lilias.” She tugged and the lass got to her knees. Bent low, Mary led her deeper into the woods, then paused behind a clump of trees.

“I want to go back to the keep,” Lilias whined, her voice trembling with fear.

“Wheesht,” Mary warned. “I’m trying to hear if anyone is still out there. If they move clumsily through the woods, we’ll hear them.”

“They shot at ye, no’ at me. Let me go.”

Mary hushed her with a wave of her hand and whispered, “’Tis no’ safe.” Then the import of the lass’s words hit her. Had those arrows been meant for her?

“Kara and Fiona have gone,” Lilias argued. “We can, too.” The lass got to her feet.

“Ye wee fool!” Mary grabbed at her hand, but she slipped away, running from tree to tree in the general direction of the keep. At least she had sense enough to keep to some cover, but Mary feared the shooter would hear her. She quickly scanned the woods, seeing nothing but trees and bracken, shrubs and more trees, so she headed away from the route Lilias had taken, making as much noise as she could to draw the archer to her and away from the lass. “If ye want me, I’m here,” she called as she ducked behind yet another tree. After a few minutes, she realized how quiet it had become. She was alone.

Mary couldn't blame the lasses for leaving her, though she still feared they’d made targets of themselves. But she hadn’t heard any more arrows hitting trees, nor had she heard the anyone moving about. Perhaps her shout had made the archer realize the movement he saw through the trees wasn’t a deer or a boar or whatever he hunted, and chastened, he’d moved on.

She didn’t want to be alone out here, but she waited a while longer, ears straining for any sound. If Lilias was right and someone had been shooting at her, if they meant to kill her rather than simply frighten her, they could come at her with a knife, too. The only sounds she heard were the wind and birdcalls. Finally, she slowly stood, fear making her breath come fast and shallow. Nothing happened for a moment. Then she heard hoof beats pounding through the woods and the distant sound of her name. At least one of the lasses must have reached the keep. Men were searching for her!

“I’m here!”

In moments, a horse and rider burst through the trees.

“Mary!”

Mary’s heart lifted to see Cameron riding to her rescue. “How did ye ken?”

“Two lasses ran screaming into the keep.” He jumped down and pulled her into his arms. “I passed a third and she pointed the way, but ye had moved. It took a few minutes to find ye.”

More Rose warriors pounded up then.

“Fan out and search the woods,” he told them. Then he lifted Mary onto his mount and threw himself up behind her.

“Cameron, your wound…”

“’Tis fine,” he growled as he tucked her against him and spurred the horse into a gallop back toward the keep. They ducked branches until they broke into the open. Cameron folded himself over her, shielding her body while they raced for the gate. They burst through it before he reined in. People in the bailey scattered out of the way as the horse’s hooves bit into the ground, throwing clumps of dirt and grass as it stopped.

Cameron swung down and reached up for Mary. “I can get down,” she told him. He didn’t listen. His hands went around her waist and hauled her against him before she could move. “God, lass, when they said ye’d nearly been shot, I thought I’d die. When they said they’d left ye behind, I thought I’d kill someone. I had to come for ye. I dinna want to let ye out of my sight ever again.”

Mary melted against him and smiled. “I’m well enough, except for being thrown onto a horse, then lashed by branches and hauled off the horse again. How is yer side?”

“I canna feel a thing save ye in my arms. Come, let’s get ye indoors, then I should join the search for the archer.”

Mary nodded, reaction finally setting in. She was glad Cameron kept an arm around her waist. She was sure only his assistance kept her on her feet.

In her chamber, she made Cameron strip off his shirt and she inspected his scar. “Thank the saints, ye didna tear it open,” she informed him.

“’Tis fine, Mary, my love. Healed and strong. Forget it.”

“How can I? The healer wouldha skewered ye if ye had reinjured yerself. Then I wouldha finished the job.” She placed a hand over it, as if to warm it with the heat of her palm. If only she could have healed him with her touch, he would not have suffered for so long.

Cameron groaned. “Ye could try, but if ye mean to kill me, I’d rather die another way.”

“Aye? What way? So the next time ye try such a fool stunt, I’ll see if I can arrange it.”

“Ach, ye can. Only ye can. I wish to die of loving ye, in yer arms, a hundred years from now.”

Mary crossed her arms and arched her eyebrows. “I see. It appears I have my work cut out for me.” She looked him up and down, taking her time about it. Then she grinned. “Perhaps I should get started now?”

“I must go…”

“Ye must stay with yer poor frightened wife. There are men aplenty searching those woods. If they find the hunter, ye can deal with him later.”

“We need to ken why someone was shooting at ye,” he objected.

She put a hand on Cameron’s chest and pushed him toward the bed. “If someone was, ye mean. They stopped after I called out.”

He lifted his eyebrows and nodded. “Perhaps ’twas only a careless hunter.”

She wasn’t convinced he believed her, but right now, she didn’t care. She had something else on her mind. When they reached the bed, she shoved harder. He fell back and she fell onto him. “A hundred years sounds about right to me,” she told him and covered his mouth with hers.

Mary didn’t know if it was because they’d handfasted, or a reaction to her near misses with an arrow, but she felt utterly free and daring, ready to do anything at all. To be anything at all. Especially to be Cameron’s wife—and lover. He would not leave her now that she had her hands on him. She would not allow it.

Throwing her inhibitions to the devil, she kissed her way down Cameron’s throat, then bit his collarbone. His groan of pleasure spurred her on and she moved down his body, kissing and nipping and licking her way down his chest and belly. When she reached the waist of his breeks, she glanced up and found him watching her. She couldn’t resist teasing him. “Wondering what I’ll do?” She went to work on the ties. When Cameron tried to help her, she pushed his hands away. “Be still, husband.”

Cameron grinned and rested his head on his hands. With his elbows out, his broad chest looked impossibly broader, his normally flat nipples dark and tight above the corded bands of muscle defining his abdomen.

A trail of dark hair led her gaze down his belly. She was tempted to trace the rippled muscles with her tongue while she ran her fingers over his muscular chest, but decided she’d rather torture him where she was. A wealth of hard, heavy male flesh waited for her here, too. She pulled the fabric aside and Cameron’s hips lifted in reflex, offering himself to her.

She grasped him in one hand, earning a groan that arrowed straight between her legs. He was fully erect, and she inhaled the musky warm scent of him. Not satisfied with using just one sense, she decided to taste and touched her tongue to his tip. Cameron cried out and reached for her. Mary took the hint and took him in her mouth, savoring the silky hot feel of him. He tasted of salt and musk, all Cameron, and she couldn’t get enough. She licked her way down his length, enjoying the sounds her husband made with each stroke of her tongue, before he pulled her atop him.

“I’ll finish too quickly if ye keep doing that,” he panted. “And I want to be inside ye. I need ye, Mary, my love. I feared I’d lost ye.”

Her heart filled her chest. “I need ye, too, Cameron.” She rucked up her skirts and lifted herself over him, then slowly slid lower, taking him into her body while she watched his eyes glaze over. She loved the look of rapture on his face, reflecting the pleasure he felt. The pleasure she gave him. She would never tire of looking at him while they made love. And never tire of pleasing him this way.

Cameron gripped her hips, lifting and lowering her.

She quickly caught the rhythm and took over, putting her hands on his shoulders, silently telling him she had taken control. He was so big and so strong, she liked having such power over him. And most wondrous of all, he was hers. No matter what happened in the future at Rose, he would be by her side. She could face anything with him.

When they were done, Cameron wrapped her in his arms. “I meant what I said. I feared I’d lost ye today. Dinna ever scare me like that again.”

“I didna mean to.”

“I ken it. Ye never saw who shot at ye?”

“Nay. The first arrow came out of nowhere. I’d just bent down to show a plant to one of the lasses when I heard a thunk in the tree above me. I saw the second coming and dropped to the ground.”

She felt Cameron tense then heave a breath. “So close. God’s bones, Mary.”

“Well, they missed.”

“’Twould be simple to think Lady Grant was behind this through her daughter or one of the guardsmen she left behind, but they’re all confined.”

Mary frowned. “Could Dougal have remained nearby? He was certainly angry at being refused.”

“Dougal? Nay. I can see him shooting at me, but no’ at ye.” He thought for a moment. “I have to wonder if Domnhall ordered it. He could anticipate that without ye and without another heir, yer father would be too weak to hold Rose. If Domnhall has designs on expanding Ross territory east along the Moray firth, Rose is the first territory he would need to control.”

“Da willna let that happen.”

“Yer father is in no shape to fight the Lord of the Isles, even with Brodie to back him, which they must, as they’d be the next to fall.”

“’Tis a good thing for Rose, then, that Sutherland is also allied with us.”

“It would be, if Laird Sutherland kenned it, aye.” Cameron was glad he’d wed her, even if his clan didn’t know about it yet. He’d write a letter to his father today, informing him. And he’d protect Mary. If someone really meant to kill his bride, he’d find out who and put a stop to the threat. He was stronger than he’d been in months, and would keep getting stronger. Sparring was good training, but lacked the urgency that a true battle demanded. His wild ride today to find Mary and get her safe inside Rose’s walls had done no harm. He could train harder.