Wick Castle was also close enough to Moray for Domnall to stay in contact with his kinsmen and friends. Alexander, Sibylla and the rest of his family had taken shelter with Faither Gregor at Portmahomack monastery, a two day ride by horse, and only a day away by ship with favorable winds.
As they approached the seagate, he gazed up at the fortification in hope of catching sight of Davina. Would she be waiting for him? Her time of confinement was coming soon, but their passion had not even begun to wane.
Snapping orders in his impatience, they moored the ship, but he left his men to unload the cargo. His priorities were elsewhere. He took the stone stairs by twos but it was his first sight of her, rather than the steep climb that made his breath come short. “Davina! Mo chridhe! I had forgotten how beautiful ye are.”
She sat in the solar with needlework in hand with her golden brown hair tumbling feely about her shoulders. She wore a loose gown that fell in soft folds that failed to conceal her protruding belly.
“Ye are home at last!” She rose at his entrance, her face flushed with a rosy tint and her green eyes shining.
“Aye. Home,” he repeated warmly as he took her into his arms. “Every time I hold ye, I am at home.”
Entwining her arms about his neck, she tilted her face for his kiss. He eagerly obliged, wondering that each time was still as sweet as the first.
“Are ye hungry?” she asked.
“Famished,” he answered lowly.
“Then I will call for an early supper,” she said.
“’Tis nae supper I hunger for mo chridhe.” The flicker in her eyes told him she understood his meaning.
“’Tis the middle of the afternoon,” she replied in a scandalized whisper.
“Which means we have hours until suppertime,” he replied with a meaningful curve of his lips.
“Hours?” her eyes widened.
“Aye. I wish verra much to make up for lost time… unless?” He pulled back wondering if there might be something more behind her hesitation than fear of shocking the servants.
“Unless?” she prompted.
“Tell me true, Davina, does it become burdensome for ye?” he asked, holding her gaze.
He cupped her face. “But would it please ye, Wife?”
“Twould indeed.” Davina’s eager lips on his quashed any further qualms.
END
About Victoria Vane
Victoria Vane is a bestselling, award-winning author of historical and contemporary romance whose books have received numerous accolades that include a 2016 RONE Award for BEAUTY AND THE BULL RIDER, 2015 Red Carpet Award for JEWEL OF THE EAST, 2014 RONE Award for TREACHEROUS TEMPTATIONS, and 2012 Library Journal Best E-Book romance for THE DEVIL DEVERE series. Victoria also has a passion for historical fashion and lives in the beautiful upstate of South Carolina with her husband, two sons, a little black dog, and an Arabian horse.
Contact info:
Email: victoria.vane@hotmail.com
Website: www.victoriavane.com
Blog: www.embracingromance.com
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HISTORICAL ROMANCES
THE SHEIK RETOLD
A BREACH OF PROMISE
A PLEDGE OF PASSION
THE REDEMPTION OF JULIAN PRICE
WORLD OF DE WOLFE PACK
BRETON WOLFE
IVAR THE RED
THE BASTARD OF BRITTANY
SONS OF SCOTLAND
VIRTUE
VALOR
VENGEANCE (coming Summer 2018)
THE DEVIL DEVERE SERIES
A WILD NIGHT’S BRIDE (#1)
THE VIRGIN HUNTRESS (#2)
THE DEVIL YOU KNOW (#3)
A DEVIL’S TOUCH (4.5)
JEWEL OF THE EAST (#5)
CONTEMPORARY ROMANCES
SLOW HAND
ROUGH RIDER
SHARP SHOOTIN’ COWBOY
SADDLE UP
HELL ON HEELS
TWO TO WRANGLE
BEAUTY AND THE BULL RIDER
A COWBOY’S MIGHTNIGHT KISS