Rebecca was so exhausted from the revelries of the evening that she could hardly climb the stairs to the room she and Adam would share. Well, continue to share, she thought with a sleepy laugh, as it was where she had first stayed in the house some weeks ago. She wasn’t sure how they were all able to stay awake for so long. She could hardly keep her eyes open, and she was one of the first to retire. Adam followed her up the stairs, and she let out a bit of a shriek when he perhaps saw her fatigue and scooped her up in his arms, carrying her the rest of the way.

He carried her through the doorway to the bedroom, before gently laying her down on the bed. He looked down at her, a bit of a wicked grin on his face.

“How tired are you, wife?”

Her eyes flew open. “I am suddenly not so very tired any longer,” she said, feeling rather shy, though why she wasn’t sure. She had known this man before, and yet then it had seemed like something of the dream, while this felt all so real.

The smile remained on his face, however, and she focused on that. She loved to see the grin on his so often serious face, and she would do all she could to keep it there. She sat up and he drew her to him. “You made me a very happy man today, Becca,” he said softly as his mouth neared hers, brushing a kiss on the corner of her lips.

She felt her eyes close as he continued to rain soft kisses over her face, and a tightening of her belly in anticipation began spreading heat lower within her. “What are you doing to me?” she gasped as he turned his attention to the skin that swelled above the top of her dress, and as he inched the lace lower he trailed kisses along the newly exposed flesh.

“I am making love to my wife,” he said, his hands coming to her hips, and she felt the hard length of him pressed up against her through his kilt. She felt a moan climb in her throat as she felt a returning, aching pressure pulsing inside her, and she moved against him in an attempt to ease that ache. He groaned at her effort, as he ran his hands up and down her hips in rhythm with her movements.

He reached his hands around her back, fumbling for a moment as he began to undo the row of tiny buttons that climbed the back of her dress. She tried not to laugh as he muttered and cursed his way through it, before finally sighing in relief as the dress gave way. He worked the material down her body until the cream fabric pooled over the floor underneath them. He lifted her shift up over her head, before tossing it away as well.

She felt rather than saw the heat of his stare, and she lifted her arms to cover herself. She knew she had the look of a boy rather than a young woman, her breasts small and her body rather unshapely.

“Do not,” he said harshly. “You are beautiful and I want to see all of you.”

She heard the desire in his voice, and let her arms fall to the side. He looked at her in worship, and wrapped his palm around a small breast, deliberately exploring it. Her breath caught in her throat as he caught the small pink tip of her breast, rubbing it back and forth. He teased it until her hips began to buck against him, wanting more than he was giving her.

“You are exquisite,” he whispered, dipping his head, his lips coming around the bud of her nipple. He suckled, and she would have collapsed had he not been holding her. He guided her down to the bed, never breaking contact with her. He left her breast for a moment, only to bring his tongue to the other.

She bit her lip so as to not cry out too loudly, and he lifted a knee to gently nudge her legs apart. She felt his rigid, hard thigh against her core, and she could not keep herself from moving against him. She struggled to breathe and moaned, feeling scandalous and yet unable to help her response to him. What she truly felt was a hunger for more of him.

“I have been waiting to feel this again, ever since our time together in the cottage,” he whispered against her ear. “It has been far, far too long.” He kissed her neck, sending a shiver down her spine. She could no longer speak, but simply reveled in his strength and power, hardly believing that he could be so tender and yet evoke such strong emotions from her. He slid his hand atop her, and found her center with the pad of his thumb.

“Adam,” she cried, reflexively squeezing him with her thighs. He continued, palming her, apparently lost in his actions, as Rebecca let her legs fall open, wanting more of him. He slid a finger inside her, and she nearly came apart, her head falling back as she softly panted. He pushed back from her for a moment, and she felt utterly bereft until she saw he was dispensing of his kilt, untying the beautiful plaid, and pulling the leine over his head until he stood in front of her.

She could hardly breathe as she took in the beauty of the tight, corded muscles of his body. As he leaned over her again, she ran her fingertips along his biceps as they strained, holding himself up above her. She trailed her hands up, over his shoulders and down his chest, along the ridge of his abdomen. She peeked up at his face, seeing his eyes dark and his lids heavy, and she felt powerful knowing that she was able to bring such emotion from him.

He finally caught her hands in his, and came down overtop her, his mouth covering hers. Gone were the gentle kisses, and in their place a hunger for her that she eagerly matched.

He broke away from her for a moment, as he whispered softly, “You were made for me, lass,” and she felt a tear at the corner of her eye as she reached up to palm his cheek. He caught the wetness with his finger before claiming her lips once more, slipping his tongue inside. He dragged his lips down her body, and she caught her lip in her teeth with a groan. She twined her fingers into his silky dark hair as she felt the desire building in her core. She ached for more, and as his lips found the very place she burned for him, her eyes flew open.

“What are you —” her voice broke off as she felt his tongue on her nub, and she collapsed back on the bed, giving herself over to the sensations running through her. She was near to coming apart when he suddenly left her, and she soon became aware of the hard length of him pressing against her. She opened her eyes to meet his gaze as she felt him slowly, easily slide inside her, and she twined her arms around his back, pulling him closer. Then he began to move, and her hips rose to meet his, back and forth, in long strokes. The rhythm soon intensified until she felt the sensation building, and she felt his thumb come to her most tender of places once more. As he brought his lips down to hers, she suddenly stilled as she came undone, calling out his name, no longer caring how loud she was.

He soon followed her, straining in her arms, until they both collapsed back on the bed, breathing harshly, rapidly. Adam rolled over beside her to keep his weight from her, and tucked her inside the curve of his body. She said nothing, but smiled a slow, easy grin. She ran her fingers over his forearm to his hand, where she caught his fingers in hers. Yes, she was where she belonged, she knew with absolute certainty. Nothing, and no one, could keep her from this man, and she had no desire to be anywhere but here.

He kissed the top of her ear, tickling her, and she shivered against him.

“I thought the first time was magic,” she said. “I never knew it could happen again.”

“If ’tis magic you want, magic is what you shall get,” he said. “Whatever my lady desires. Over and over again…. Yer in the Highlands now, love. Anything is possible.”

She laughed and rolled over, bringing her lips to his once more, complete in her love for him.

* * *

Rebecca was somewhat nervous the next day as Adam, Sullivan, and her father spent much of it together in the laird’s room. Duncan joined them for a time to offer his advice on business within the countryside. She knew her father was focused on England, but Adam and his family would see to it that the Scots got their due.

When Adam finally emerged, he took her in his arms and gave her a quick kiss on the top of her head.

“A walk to the loch, love?” he asked, and she smiled.

“I think that would be a fine idea,” she said in response.

As they began strolling down to the crystal blue waters, the green of the hills surrounding them, Adam put his arm around her and drew her in close.

“All seems to be well,” he said. “We have a plan going forward and a contract in place to ensure we all — your father, Andrews, and me — receive our fair due for our work. Your father and Andrews will look after the production in London, and hopefully in due time more people will benefit from the wind energy. I think I’ll build our own machine here to start, and see what can be done with it.”

“That would be wonderful!” she exclaimed. “I would so love to see your work.”

“And ye shall,” he said, his gaze wistful as they came to the water’s edge and he stared out over the horizon. “We do have one problem,” he said.

“And what is that?”

He turned to her and grinned. “We are going to have to teach you how to swim.”

He shucked off the kilt he wore around his hips before diving into the water. Rebecca stared at him incredulously. “What are you doing?” she gasped.

“Come with me!” he said, “I’ll keep you afloat, I promise.”

“It’s the middle of the day!” she exclaimed, but began laughing at him. This behavior was rather unlike him, and she couldn’t help but be pleased by the dimples brought out in his cheeks.

“Leave your shift on,” he said. “The water is fine. I’ll make sure Nessie doesna eat you. I’ll tell her yer one of us now. Dinna be scared, love.”

Feeling somewhat ridiculous, she nevertheless lifted her dress over her head, leaving it on a large rock beside the water before removing her shoes. She tentatively waded in and then let herself fall into his arms. As the strong arms came around her, she felt his powerful legs kick to keep them afloat.

“Well now, I think I’m going to have to come up with something to help you swim,” he said, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “Perhaps something that would keep you afloat. Hmmm…”

She saw his thoughts start to wander onto whatever invention he was drawing up in his head, and she laughed, looking around her in wonder. This land had drawn her, and here she had found a home, not only in her surroundings, but in the man that held her.

“I love you, Adam McDougall,” she said, bringing him out of his thoughts and his attention back to her.

“And I you, my little English wife,” he said, capturing her lips with his, and she knew she would never, ever be alone again.

Authors Note:

I have borrowed from history in this novel when it comes to the wind turbine. The first use of a wind-powered machine to generate electricity was, in fact, by a Scotsman, Professor James Blyth, in July of 1887, used to light his home in Maykirk, Scotland. He received a UK patent in 1891. However, most people credit the first use of a wind-powered machine to generate electricity to an American, Charles Brush, although his operated for the first time during the winter of 1887.