The next evening we had the house to ourselves except for Quentin stationed on the back deck. I cooked. Magnus perched on a barstool watching, and then we ate at the kitchen island because it was reminiscent of that night we became friends, so many weeks ago. It also wasn’t that long ago, really. We talked about how quick it had been — we met and then in a month we were married. Two months passed while we were apart and now this time, less than a week.

The end of June to the beginning of September, barely any time at all. But also three hundred years.

Still, we had been in the same house, under the same roof, while married, for just a little over a week.

We were still just getting to know each other.

When I said that to Magnus he said, “While that may be the truth of it, I find I canna imagine living without ye, Kaitlyn. When I was imprisoned at Talsworth I kept it in my thoughts that ye were nae yet born, and that ye were safe and would grow up in a future where ye winna need me. But I am selfish and wanted to come back because ye are everything tae me.”

My eyes misted. “You were thinking about me while you were singing your favorite song about your pickup truck?”

“Aye, because ye must drive it.” He smiled at me, a smile full of love and sadness and longing so I climbed onto his lap and kissed him. Deep and passionate. His hands tucked around my butt and pulled me closer, settling me down. I whispered into his ear. “Are you done with dinner?”

He nodded, his unshaven jaw rubbing along my cheek, his breath warm on my skin. “I am, twas delicious.”

I pushed his plate, his beer, and his utensils away across the counter. Then I didn’t put my feet down on the ground, instead I stood balancing on the rungs of his barstool and climbed across to the counter. And sat. I spread my legs and leaned back on my hands.

He stood and folded onto my body. “You are full of surprising moments, Madame Campbell.”

He kissed down my neck to my shoulder, pressing and pressing, and—

“Are you talking about my deft game of Lava Tag, just now?”

There was a long pause where he kissed and nibbled along my shoulder and neck, and oh god I wanted him so badly.

He mumbled, “What is this — Lava Tag?”

I arched back. “A childhood game where kids pretend like the ground is covered in lava. They can’t touch it, so instead they climb everywhere, you know,” I gasped as he sucked on the edge of my neck, “seriously unimportant. A minute ago I felt like joking, now I …” He pressed against me again, and I moaned.

He raised my shirt just a bit and kissed my cleavage along the top edge of my bra. I arched to meet his lips. He spoke into my flesh, his breath hot on my chest. “I was speaking about the surprise of finding your legs spread wide upon my dinner table.” His arms tightened around my back pulling me close to his mouth, him. The scent of our dinner lingered in the air around us, the dim light of our kitchen, and the soft hum of the refrigerator set the mood. A candle flickered nearby. Also nearby, his security guard.

I whispered, “Quentin is right outside.”

His head drooped on my chest as he pulled my shirt down to cover me. “Aye, and my castle walls are made of glass.” He pulled away a bit, his desire plain under his kilt. “If you were wearing a skirt, we might accomplish this without excessive nakedness.”

“Ah, but Master Campbell, what is the fun in that?”

He groaned. “Do I carry ye tae the bedroom or ask Quentin tae go tae the beach for an hour?”

I leaned forward, kissed his jawline and down his neck, loosening his shirt and rubbing my hands up under it to the small of his back, pulling him toward me again. I whispered, “I’ll wait for you right here.”

He pushed away, blew out a breath of air, ran a hand through his hair, and straightened the front of his shirt. Adjusting it so it covered the front of his kilt. “Aye, daena move.”

I said, “Freeze tag,” and instantly regretted it, because he paused and looked at me quizzically. “I’ll explain later, go go go.”

He slid open the door and leaned out. I could hear the indistinct rumble of my husband asking his security guard to disappear for a bit and then the door slid closed and he crossed back to me, waiting, perfectly still on the kitchen counter.

He folded over my body, kissed me deep, and then went primal, shoving my shirt up, unclasping my bra, fondling my breasts, running his hands down my back, cupping my ass, pulling me close, desperate and urgent, and incredibly hot. I held on as he fumbled with my shorts and frantically pulled them down my legs, breathing so heavy and deep and rumbling, and with almost a roar he entered me, my name departing on his breath, “Kaitlyn,” he said, and my fingers were wrapped through the back of his hair and I kissed his throat — say it again — Kaitlyn — do you love me?

He pushed and shoved against me pulling me tight toward him, filling me so fully with desire, him, want — I do, I love ye — I arched back, lost in a moan. He kissed my breast as he pushed harder, faster, and more, and collapsed on me as he came to the end with a groan completely spent.

My feet twisted on his back pulling his hips closer, I laid back on the counter, wrapped my fingers through his hair, holding him close, nestled to my chest.

I breathed deeply, warm blood and oxygen flowing through me. Beads of sweat glistening on Magnus’s forehead. His skin was warm to my touch, his body, a moment before taut and hard and desperate, and now a moment later soft, relaxed and comfortable. I ran my hands down his arms, massaging his muscles, also tightening my hold.

“I love you too,” I whispered.

“I know ye do, mo reul-iuil.”

“You do? How do you know?”

He raised his head, his chin nestled on my breastbone. His arms around my back, keeping me arched. “I read it in your eyes. Tis one of the reasons I have loved ye since I met ye.” He nestled back into my chest and I kissed the top of his head. Then he pushed away, adjusted his clothing, and picked up my shorts. He slipped them over my ankles and pulled them up while I dropped down into them, pulling my shirt back down.

“If I go put on my pajama pants, can we go for a walk on the beach?”

“That would be good, mo reul-iuil.”