Chapter 26

A lison arrived soon after Robert departed. Jessie was thankful that the young girl was all business when it came to helping her change out of her ruined gown. There were no curious questions or comments about Simon's attack or the various bruises starting to bloom on her arms and neck. Nor were there any censorious looks about the fact that she would be installed in Lord Lochrose's rooms for the night. Jessie was grateful for the girl's matter-of-fact attitude. She rather thought Alison would make an excellent lady's maid.

Jessie gasped and blushed however when Alison produced her new night apparel—an exquisite night rail of saffron silk and lace with a matching robe à la fran?aise and slippers. They were obviously additional purchases that Robert had made that afternoon at the modiste's. She adored how much he was spoiling her with these luxurious gifts. It made her feel special and cherished. Truly desired. And dare she think it…loved?

The fine, almost transparent fabric whispered over Jessie's skin as she donned the garments. They were certainly not the practical flannel or cambric night rails she was used to wearing to bed. She wondered what Alison would make of the daring, even scandalous attire, but thankfully the girl continued to be the epitome of discretion.

The ormolu clock on the mantel was close to striking the half hour after midnight when Alison finally departed, but Jessie was curiously wide awake, despite the late hour. She poured a cup of tea, but was too agitated to drink it. Her emotions leapt wildly from anger at Simon's assault to trepidation about the potential danger Robert was in, to nervous anticipation of what would happen when Robert returned.

Unable to sit still, she eventually discarded her cup and explored Robert's suite of rooms. He had invited her in here, after all. She trusted he wouldn't mind.

The sitting room was elegantly furnished. A pair of leather wingchairs and a striped damask settee were arranged around a richly patterned Aubusson hearthrug by the fireside. A sideboard, desk, and bookcase in heavy oak stood at intervals between windows hung with curtains of burgundy velvet. Above the sideboard, Jessie noticed a framed painting of a distinguished and very handsome couple. The earl at a much younger age, perhaps in his thirties, posed beside a very beautiful young woman with an abundance of light brown curls and large solemn, blue eyes. She was presumably the late Countess of Strathburn, Robert's mother. Jessie imagined Robert must feel her absence terribly, just as she missed her own mother.

Through a communicating door she discovered a dressing room, largely empty save for a few items of Robert's clothing and a wooden traveling trunk. Another door at the end of the dressing room led into Robert's bedchamber. The soft glow of candles and the firelight revealed an enormous four-poster bed, hung with curtains of dark golden damask. The bed was covered with a rich gold and cream brocade counterpane and an abundance of fat ivory silk pillows lay against the ornately carved headboard. It looked sumptuous.

And tempting.

Someone, perhaps Alison, had also turned down the covers to reveal fine cotton sheets. Jessie had the sudden, overwhelming urge to crawl between them. Her pulse raced to think she might very well be sleeping beside Robert tonight.

But would they only be sleeping? She smiled. If she had her own wicked way, they certainly wouldn't.

But if Robert were to face Simon on the dueling field at dawn...

Jessie's stomach plummeted to the plush rug at her feet. No, she didn't want to think about that. She had to believe Robert's assertion that he had a plan to foil Simon and that everything would be all right. That he would be all right.

Her exploration complete, Jessie returned to the sitting room to wait for Robert's return. After kicking off her new saffron silk slippers, she settled into one of the chairs in front of the fire, sipping the whisky Robert had poured for her earlier, hoping the fiery liquid would calm her thoughts and skittering pulse. She'd just tossed back the last of the dram when the door creaked open, revealing her fiancé .

Robert. Thank God. Her impulse was to run to him and throw her arms about his neck but as she began to stand, Robert motioned with his hand. "Jessie, my love, don't get up on my account."

As she subsided back onto her chair, he shrugged off his velvet evening jacket and removed his lace jabot. "I must apologize for taking so long," he continued, tossing the garments onto a nearby settee. "But with the benefit of your canny reasoning, I needed to…adjust my plans surrounding the duel. It took a little longer than I expected to set the stage, but"—his mouth tipped into a wicked grin—"you can be rest assured that with the help of Captain Drummond, Tobias, and my father, I will not be waylaid by any of the King's men. With minimal risk to myself, Simon is about to be taught a valuable life lesson." With his shirt now open at the neck, Robert pulled up the footstool and sat in front of Jessie. He leaned forward, his arms resting on his muscular, satin-clad thighs. There was a smile in his eyes. "Does that ease your mind, my love?"

"To be honest, no' entirely," she replied in a voice breathless with both nerves and maddening desire. She shouldn't be distracted by Robert's physicality right now, but she was.

Dragging her gaze away from the tantalizing sight of her fiancé's strong throat and the tanned patch of chest below, she forced herself to consider his words. His plan seemed too hazy and vague for her liking. "I canna help but be worried about ye being involved in any sort of risky endeavor given the conditions of yer release. I dinna suppose ye were intending to share yer plan with me?"

Robert's smile widened. "Suffice it to say, I think Simon will be most surprised to find that he's about to embark on a character-building journey—of sorts. But most importantly, I will not be attending any duel."

"I'm most relieved to hear it," said Jessie, at last returning her fiancé's smile. She would also trust Robert's assertion that one way or another, Simon would be dealt with.

"Now, enough about duels and my half-brother's overdue comeuppance." Robert's gaze softened. "I believe we have unfinished business to attend to."

Jessie's pulse quickened. Could he mean…? Were they about to make love?

Robert was rolling up his shirt sleeves, revealing tanned, well-muscled forearms. "Let's dispense with this robe so I can see this graze of yours," he said, gesturing toward her left arm. "I passed Alison in the hall earlier, and she informed me that your bandage was a wee bit blood stained. I'm worried your stitches have been torn."

Oh. Jessie bit her lip. That wasn't the unfinished business she'd had in mind. All the same, she was suddenly acutely aware that she was only wearing flimsy night attire. "I'm sure the wound is fine," she murmured, her cheeks heating. "It doesna hurt. Really."

As she self-consciously checked the ribbons securing the front of her robe, she inwardly chided herself for being so shy and contrary. She and Robert had been through so much together. They'd already been intimate. And she wanted to take things further—to share her body completely with this wonderful man—so very much. But now the moment was upon her to do something as simple as shedding her robe, she'd become as diffident as a maid who'd never even been kissed.

Perhaps Simon's attack had rattled her more than she'd thought. Curse him . She really didn't want to think about that vile creature. She only wanted to be consumed with thoughts of Robert.

Perhaps sensing the reason for her reticence, Robert's lips curved into a soft, reassuring smile. "I'll only be looking at your arm, I promise."

Jessie nodded, her body suddenly too warm, her skin tingling beneath Robert's intent gaze. She wondered at the potent effect this man had on her every time he looked at her or touched her. But she knew it was more than desire. In the space of only seven days, she'd fallen irrevocably, hopelessly in love with him.

More than anything, she trusted him. Her eyes locked with Robert's, Jessie cast aside the last of her doubts, untied the robe's ribbons and let the saffron silk slide off her shoulders.

Despite his good intentions, Robert's gaze slipped inexorably downward to the fine lace décolletage of Jessie's night rail—the one he'd chosen himself when he'd visited the High Street modiste earlier in the day. Sweet Lord, Jessie was beautiful. The enticing sight of her breasts as they rose and fell with her uneven breathing had his cock jerking with awareness.

His lips firmed into a hard line, however, when he noticed the evidence of Simon's attack. The purple marks around Jessie's neck and on her arms stood out like obscene circlets against her perfect alabaster skin. With considerable effort, he dragged his mind away from the great pleasure he was going to derive from making Simon pay tenfold for what he'd done to Jessie. Somehow, he refocused his attention on attending to Jessie's bullet wound.

As he began to gently unwind the bloodied linen, he was abruptly transported back in time to another evening, when he'd first stitched her bullet graze before the light of another fire. That was only seven nights ago, yet he felt he'd known Jessie forever. Now he couldn't imagine being without her.

Robert slanted a glance upward and noticed Jessie was watching him. Her lips were slightly parted, her pulse beating rapidly in her throat. He bit his lip to suppress both a groan and the urge to bury his face in her neck. Dear God. Did she have any idea what she did to him?

Reining in his desire by focusing on the task at hand, he pulled the last of the bandage away to reveal the wound. A small amount of blood had seeped around the stitches, but otherwise, his handiwork remained intact.

He looked up and smiled encouragingly. "It's fine, mo ghaoil . I'll bathe it and redress it."

Jessie nodded and offered a small, tremulous smile. "Thank you."

She's still nervous around me . Which was completely understandable under the circumstances. Jessie was a canny woman; she could probably sense he wanted her.

When Robert had finished rebinding her arm, he gently slid her robe back into place. Then, with what felt like an enormous effort, he removed his hand from her smooth-as-silk shoulder.

Dear God, he was shaking.

Now at long last was the time for them to clarify their positions on being handfasted to each other. But Robert couldn't concentrate if he touched her.

And he had to get this right.

He felt as skittish as a lad about to kiss a girl for the first time. Tongue-tied and hopelessly daft with desire. But then, he'd never told any woman what he was about to tell Jessie.

His pulse racing, Robert looked her directly in the eye. "Jessie…" He dragged in another breath and somehow marshalled his thoughts and his courage. "Earlier today, we both agreed we needed to come to some understanding about our betrothal. Fate has clearly thrown us together, but the real question is: what do each of us want? Now that we are both free to choose."

Jessie continued to regard him steadily. "Aye… That's true," she said, her voice slightly breathless, betraying her own nervous state. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip, leaving a moist sheen across the luscious fullness.

Robert nearly groaned aloud. On an impulse, he reached forward and gently clasped her hands, fighting for the control to say what he needed to before he gave in to the desire pounding through him. "I know exactly how I feel about you, mo chridhe ," he murmured. "In fact, I think I've felt this way from the moment I first saw you by the loch at Lochrose. You stole my breath away. And my heart…" Inhaling another bracing breath, he continued, "Jessie Munroe, I'm in love with you and I can't imagine my life without you."

Dropping to one knee, Robert raised her hands to his lips, brushing the lightest of kisses over her elegant fingers. All the while, he held her eyes with his. "I have something to ask you, not because I have to, but because I want to." He swallowed and firmed his voice. "Jessie Munroe…will you marry me?"

Jessie's breath caught in her throat. Her heart soared. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Robert loves me.

He truly wanted her to be his wife.

She searched his face. His deep blue eyes were expectant, his breathing shallow. Was he…nervous? Yes, Lord Lochrose, the Master of Strathburn, was hanging by a thread, waiting for her answer. Silly man . Didn't he realize her heart beat only for him? Nevertheless, his uncertainty leant a poignant sweetness to the moment and brought a smile to her lips.

"Aye, I will marry you, Robert," she replied, her own voice shaky with emotion. "No' because I have to, but because I want to, so verra much."

Robert's lips curved in a smile, and he angled his head forward to kiss her, but Jessie stopped him with a hand to his chest. Surprised, he raised questioning eyes to hers.

Even though she was breathless with desire, she had to tell Robert how she truly felt as well. "Wait. I havena finished clarifying my position yet," she murmured huskily. Sliding off the chair, she sank to her knees and raised one of Robert's hands to her chest where her own heart lay. It pounded so wildly with abandoned joy, she wondered if he felt it. "Robert Grant, I love you completely, with my entire heart. And tonight, I want us no' just to be promised to each other, but truly handfasted, as husband and wife."

Robert drew in a steadying breath as he tried to control the potent mix of emotions surging through him. Unadulterated happiness at Jessie's confession of love blended with a heady wave of desire. She wanted to be with him, be one with him, as his wife.

"Are you sure, Jessie?" he asked, his voice thick with emotion, his eyes searching hers.

"I've never been more certain of anything in my life." Jessie gathered his hands between hers and held them against her breasts. "I, Jessie Elizabeth Munroe, take you, Robert James Alexander Grant, the Viscount Lochrose and Master of Strathburn, to be my husband as of this moment and forevermore," she whispered, her eyes shining with love.

Robert smiled back at her like a besotted fool, but he didn't care. "And I, Robert James Alexander Grant, the Viscount Lochrose and Master of Strathburn, take you, Jessie Elizabeth Munroe, to be my wife as of this moment and forevermore." His gaze dropped to her lips and, praise heaven, this time Jessie did not stop him from lowering his mouth to hers.

He kissed her deeply, his mouth urgently moving over hers, the desire he'd kept in check for so long suddenly pulsing through his veins without restraint. He buried his hands in her cascading locks drawing her closer, taking everything she offered. Her lips. Her tongue. Her mouth responded to his every demand.

He felt Jessie fumbling with the buttons of his waistcoat, pulling his silk shirt out of his breeches and within moments, her hands slid beneath the fabric. A hiss of pleasure escaped his lips. He let her play, thrilled at the feel of her gentle hands caressing his heated flesh. When she broke their kiss and lowered her mouth to taste the sensitive hollow between his collarbones, he groaned aloud at the erotic sensation. Her lips and tongue branded his skin like fire.

However, when she reached for the fall front of his black satin breeches he stilled her hand. "Not yet, my love," he murmured, his voice rough with lust. Although his cock was harder than an iron poker, he wanted to take his time. Jessie deserved more than a rushed, rough coupling.

He wanted this to be perfect for her.

Robert captured her face in his hands and worshipped her mouth again until they were both breathless. Brushing her curls aside, her feminine scent—redolent of flowers and Jessie's own essence—swirled about him, intoxicated him as he traced a line of fiery, open-mouthed kisses along her delicate jaw and down her neck. She released a low whimper, a sound of deep pleasure echoing in her throat. God he wanted her. More than anything else in this world.

And it seemed she desired him just as much. Jessie restlessly kneaded his shoulders until he helped her to peel off his waistcoat and pull off his silk shirt. His upper torso now naked, she caressed and nibbled and licked. Her untutored yet uninhibited exploration of his chest and shoulders quickly drove his own arousal to such a fever pitch, he thought he might combust.

To distract her—indeed to stop himself from spending too soon—Robert gently eased away her saffron-hued robe. The silk whispered to the floor around her knees, but she didn't seem to mind he was now undressing her. Far from it. The firelight cast a golden glow over her bare arms and shoulders, rendering the flimsy confection of silk and lace that made up her night rail all but transparent. He could clearly see the outline of Jessie's full breasts and the hard points of her nipples as she arched her body toward him. His cock throbbed.

He had to see more, taste more. Have all of her.

"Perhaps we should retire to my bedchamber," he groaned against her temple, using his breath to caress her ear. "I want you in my bed, Jessie. Now and forever."

She responded by rising to her feet, pulling him with her. It appeared she was as eager as he was. Robert was determined to do this properly. He swept her into his arms and carried her through to the bed, laying her gently against the pillows. But he didn't join her immediately. The fire had burned low in the grate and greedy man that he was, he wanted to look his fill of Jessie's heavenly body.

Plus, the momentary distraction might stop him coming in his breeches.

He bent to the wood pile and threw a few additional logs into the fireplace. Light flared as bright and hot as his passion for Jessie. His wife.

As Robert threw logs into the fire and brought it back to life, Jessie swallowed and licked her lips, the agony of her wanting almost too much to bear. The sight of taut muscles flexing across Robert's broad shoulders and back made her tremble with desperation, made the folds between her thighs slick with moisture.

"Come to bed," she urged restlessly, rising to her knees. She clenched and unclenched her hands in the silk of her night rail. She couldn't wait for her handfasted husband to make her his wife in truth.

When Robert straightened and turned back to her, his gaze fixed unerringly on hers. Without so much as a blink or a blush, he swiftly shucked off his shoes, then stripped off his silk stockings and satin breeches, at last revealing his own blatant desire for her. His cock was long and hard—ready for her—the head glistening with moisture.

Oh my . Jessie bit her lip to stifle a purely wanton moan. Although she'd already seen Robert in an almost completely naked state at the inn at Invercauld, she was struck anew by how magnificent, how powerfully made he was. He had the frame of a warrior—all long limbs and lean sculpted muscle. Even though he was battle-scarred, it didn't matter. In her eyes, he was perfect.

"Look what you do to me, mo chridhe ," he groaned, gripping his cock as if in pain. "God, I want you so much."

Despite the nervous excitement fluttering in her belly, a deep thrill shot through Jessie, clear to her toes. Her lips curved in a small smile, and she held out her hand. "You are no' alone, Robert. I want ye quite desperately too. Make love to me, husband of my heart."

With a low growl, Robert climbed onto the bed, every movement sinuous and graceful. "Aye, I intend to, my darling wife." His mouth took hers again in a hard, passionate kiss as he pushed her down onto the pillows. His long hard length pressed hotly against her belly, and she clutched his upper arms, arching into him, urging him to take more.

Pausing for breath, Robert raised his head and cradled her jaw with one hand, his gaze heated and heavy. "I have to see you, Jessie."

Without a word, she adjusted her position so Robert could help to ease off the silk and lace frippery. She then lay back on the pillows, burning with need, watching Robert through half-closed eyes as his midnight-blue gaze wandered over her. Instead of feeling self-conscious—she was still a virgin after all—she felt worshipped, cherished.

Desired.

But most of all, she felt loved.

Robert swallowed hard at the sight of Jessie's beautiful body.

"You are…perfect," he managed to rasp, his eyes devouring her full breasts, her small waist and flat belly, the gingery curls at the apex of her thighs, her long, slender legs. Cupping one of her breasts, he lowered his mouth and suckled her rosy nipple whilst he rolled and tugged the other distended bud between thumb and forefinger. Moaning, she speared her fingers into his hair, pulling it free from the velvet ribbon. He loved that he was driving her wild, making her lose control…and he'd only just begun.

Slowly, deliberately, one of his hands stroked down the flat plane of her stomach toward her inner thighs, and she immediately parted her legs to allow him access. With sure strokes, he teased her slick cleft and pulsating center, before easing one finger, then another inside her tight, hot sheath. She gasped at the invasion, her body tensing at first, but she didn't pull away. When Robert began to gently slide his fingers in and out of her, all the while circling his thumb over the swollen nub of her clitoris, she instinctively matched his thrusting rhythm, her hips arching and circling. Her mewls of pleasure were the sweetest sounds he'd ever heard.

But Robert wanted more than to just touch her. His own ravening lust urged him to taste and possess all of her.

Dragging himself away from her delicious breasts, he ran a trail of sucking kisses down her body until his mouth hovered just above her soft ginger curls. She might be a virgin, but she was passionate and adventurous. It couldn't hurt to ask...

Perhaps confused by his inaction, Jessie raised her head slightly and slanted him a glance from beneath her lashes.

Robert offered her the tilted smile he knew she loved. "Jessie, I want to kiss you, all of you. Will you let me?"

God, he hoped she said yes.

Jessie gasped. "Down…down there? Really?"

Robert smiled, his beautiful rakehell's smile. The one she could never resist. "Yes. Really ."

Wicked man. She couldn't hide her shock. She trusted Robert with all her heart, but the idea of him placing his mouth on her most secret parts…it was almost too much.

But then, she'd tasted him once before…and she knew she wanted to again.

Perhaps Robert's request wasn't so outlandish.

Curiosity won out. "Verra well," she whispered.

Her heart beating a wild rhythm, Jessie dropped her head back onto the pillows and closed her eyes. Robert's hair brushed her inner thighs, his fingers gently parting her wet folds.

Oh God, she couldn't believe she was letting him…

All thought scattered as his wicked tongue slid along her wet cleft then flicked against her throbbing center. Intense, hot pleasure, shot through her. Writhing mindlessly, she gripped Robert's head and cried his name, but he gave her no quarter. His powerful hands held her hips firmly as he suckled and licked her ruthlessly, relentlessly worshipping her body until the rising tension within her was almost unbearable. When he thrust his fingers deep inside her and simultaneously suckled hard on her throbbing core, it was too much.

Her grip on reality slipped and bright stars exploded behind Jessie's eyes. On an agonized cry, she came, blazing rapture sweeping her up, throwing her heavenward.

As the rippling waves of pleasure slowly subsided, she felt Robert returning to her side. Gathering her into his arms, he nuzzled her neck and ear, murmuring Gaelic endearments against her heated skin.

Jessie snuggled into him, pressing herself against his hard body, eyelids so heavy with sated desire, she could barely open them. "I didna have any idea… It never occurred to me that ye could kiss me…that way," she murmured against his bare shoulder.

She felt, rather than saw Robert's smile against her temple. "So I take it you particularly enjoyed that, mo chridhe? " he teased, his hands caressing her breasts once more, rekindling the slick warmth between her legs. She raised her head and answered him with a kiss. His lips and tongue were salty with the taste of her, but she didn't mind. In fact, she found it strangely pleasurable. Deliciously erotic.

Robert groaned her name and rolled her onto her back, gently parting her thighs with one of his knees. "Are you ready for us to be joined as man and wife, my love? I'm afraid it might hurt at first, but I will be as gentle as I can." His body hovered over hers, his straining manhood resting heavily against the sensitive flesh of her belly.

"Dinna mind me. I willna break." Boldly, Jessie encircled his pulsating, rigid length with her fingers, urging him to make them one. "Make love to me, husband of my heart."

Robert groaned and closed his eyes, pushing into her hand. "Aye. I will, my love. I will."

Briefly, Jessie wondered how Robert would fit inside her, but she so wanted to please him. He clearly wanted to be joined with her, so very badly. Moisture was already leaking from him onto her fingers.

Robert took his weight on his forearms, then pushed his hips forward, the head of his manhood nudging her entrance. Jessie whimpered as the pressure intensified, and she gripped Robert's shoulders. The burning pain was almost too much.

"Tell me if you want me to stop," he gritted out, shudders wracking his body.

Jessie realized that the restraint he exercised for her was causing him pain too. "Dinna stop. Take me, Robert," she whispered, reaching up to caress his tense jaw with trembling fingers. "Make me yours. Yours alone."

With an agonized groan, Robert surged forward and with one swift stroke, entered Jessie's hot, wet sheath. Dear God, she was tight. Despite her readiness, Jessie cried out and buried her face in his shoulder, panting.

Robert immediately ceased all movement. He'd hurt her. Guilt knifed through him.

"My sweet Jessie, I'm sorry," he whispered into her hair. "But trust me, it will get better."

Jessie nodded and kissed his neck. "I-I know. Remember, I want this too."

So brave. As much as his balls ached, as much as his cock throbbed, Robert vowed he wouldn't move until she was ready. Ignoring his own acute urge to pound into her, he took his weight on his elbows and rained feather-light kisses across Jessie's eyelids, cheeks, and forehead, waiting until she'd adjusted to the feel of him inside her.

Her eyes soon fluttered open, and she smoothed his hair away from his brow. "I'm all right now," she murmured huskily, and drew his head down for a slow, deep, languorous kiss. Then she tilted her hips. Welcomed him in.

Thank God. She still wanted him. Following Jessie's lead, Robert slowly withdrew, then glided into her again, deeper than before. Jessie released a delicious moan and her hands slid to his buttocks, as though urging him to keep going. Heartened, he repeated the action and this time Jessie sighed with pleasure. Joy flared like the incandescent heat of the Caribbean sun.

Gaining confidence that she was beginning to enjoy their coupling, Robert began to slide back and forth with slow sure strokes, powerful yet controlled, watching Jessie's changing expressions, gauging her reaction, making sure she continued to enjoy this as much as he was enjoying her.

Panting beneath him, Jessie matched his rhythm, her hands gripping his sweat slickened shoulders. Her inner passage started to quiver, and he gritted his teeth against his own compelling need to let go. He would make sure she came first, even if it killed him.

Adjusting his angle to give her everything, Robert pounded, faster, harder until he knew she was on the edge of bliss. When she cried his name, when her sheath clenched and rippled around him, he rejoiced.

But he could no longer control the rising tide of his own passion. With a final driving thrust, Robert too succumbed to the all-consuming rush of release. His body shuddered again and again as great waves of pleasure claimed him. Pleasure like nothing he'd ever experienced before. He buried his face in the curve of Jessie's neck, groaning her name.

Spent at last, Robert rolled sideways, gathering Jessie into his arms, still joined with her. He softly traced the outline of her kiss-swollen lips with his thumb and then brushed back a tangled lock of hair from her face. "I love you, my wife," he whispered, a smile of pure happiness curving his mouth.

Jessie smiled back with drowsy-eyed contentment. "And I love you, my husband," she murmured, then curled herself into him.

With her languid limbs still entwined with his, Jessie soon floated into sleep. The quiet rhythm of her breathing soothed Robert's soul like nothing else possibly could. He stroked her soft hair, gloried in the feel of her warm, silken skin pressed against his, and at last, he let the awe and profound satisfaction of knowing this beautiful woman was really, truly his, sink into his very bones.

Everything he did from now on would be for her: her, and the children they would make together. The morning and the days ahead would undoubtedly bring challenges to their door. But Robert vowed that no one—not Simon or his stepmother or the devil himself—would stand in the way of his happiness and Jessie's. Not ever.