There was a large bonfire in the center of the courtyard, and Makenna could see the smoke rising from two others in the outer yard just beyond the curtain wall. Music was erupting from everywhere.
Slowly they made their way into the great hall that was even more crowded than the inner yard. Seated at one end were Conor and Colin engaged in a lively debate about something. Both paused in midsentence upon seeing their wives.
Makenna was barely aware of Ceridwin being pulled away by Drake. Her eyes were locked on to Colin. For a brief moment, the world disappeared. Colin looked at her with so much glittering emotion that Makenna wanted to weep and cry out with joy at the same time. No longer did she see just hot sexual desire blazing in his eyes, but something deeper and far more powerful.
It had been two weeks since Laurel had arrived, and in that time she had given Makenna something she had not realized she was missing—a sense of worth as a woman. Never before did she think she was beautiful, or enticing, or capable of turning a man’s eye. But with Laurel’s and Ceridwin’s help, Makenna had slowly gained the confidence to accept what Colin felt for her, and not diminish or belittle it.
Makenna smiled as Colin skimmed appreciatively over her before locking his eyes once again on to hers. She belonged to him completely and knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Colin belonged only to her.
She would tell him tonight.
Colin watched as Makenna approached, unable to look anywhere else. A surge of pride and possessiveness flowed through his veins. It struck him that he had finally found with Makenna the elusive and special bond his parents had shared.
When he had been very young, he had asked his father what made his mother the most beautiful woman in the entire world. His father’s answer had been “love.”
There in the midst of a boisterous crowd, Colin looked at Makenna and accepted what had happened. He had fallen in love. He waited for the guilt to fill him, but it never came. He gazed into her green eyes and knew she truly loved him as well.
“You’re finally here, and so very beautiful,” he whispered just before he brushed his mouth across hers in an incredibly gentle, almost reverent kiss.
Tingles went down Makenna’s spine. With a soft, low groan, Colin released her lips and pressed his mouth to her ear. “Tonight, love, I shall make love to you in ways that will let you know exactly what you mean to me. You are my heart. I need you, Makenna.”
And then he maneuvered her to the chair next to his, praying he could control his growing desire long enough to commence the next phase of his plan. Tonight provided just the right setting. He would not get such an ideal chance again.
Makenna complied and sank down in shock, wondering if she had just imagined it or if Colin really had called her “love.” It was a little name most men called their wives, but Colin had never once used it with her.
The night continued merrily, and Makenna forgot all about her apprehensions about the McTiernays and their plans. She and Colin had danced until her feet could take no more. More than once Laurel grabbed her to go visit with clusters of women around the room and outside the hall. And for the first time, she felt welcomed into their enclave, able to participate in their conversations about homes, husbands. Even the topic of children didn’t frighten her.
Ceridwin and Drake had disappeared soon into the festivities and had yet to reappear. Makenna had no doubt a wedding was imminent and could not be happier for them both.
Colin moved by the roaring hearth, adjusted the chair so that he could see across the room, and then sat down.
“Come here, m’eudail, I want to kiss you,” Colin beckoned.
Makenna blushed, as she knew that many had heard his endearment, and went quickly to his side lest he became even more vocal.
As soon as she came near, Colin pulled her into his lap and uttered a thick, husky groan as his body responded to the sensual weight of her. Makenna gasped at the feel of his hard, fiercely aroused body. She stirred against him in an effort to get up.
“Stay right where you are, lest I leave here to do what has been on my mind since the second I saw you.”
Feeling emboldened, Makenna turned and nipped playfully at his lower lip. “And would that be so bad?” she asked, twining her arms around his neck.
Colin buried his face in her hair and inhaled the scent of her, part lavender and rosemary and part feminine arousal. He knew she was already moist and ready for him. “Just a little bit longer, love. I promise you I will make the wait worth it for us both.”
Makenna leaned into him and tilted her head back for his kiss. Colin knew Conor was waiting for him, but he couldn’t resist the temptation and took her mouth hungrily. Begrudgingly, he ended the kiss.
“Do you trust me?” he asked, his voice thick with need and shades of uncertainty.
Makenna pulled back and held his blue eyes with her own. “Aye. I will always trust you.”
“Then, trust me now, love.”
Colin shifted her slightly so that she remained on his lap without impeding his view of his brother seated on the other side of the room. Makenna glanced around the room to see how many people had been staring at them. She was relieved to see most couples were engaged in conversations or activities of their own and were either oblivious of or indifferent to her and Colin’s passionate embrace. Laurel was situated very similarly across Conor’s lap looking like she, too, had been thoroughly kissed.
Out of the blue, Colin’s voice rang out loudly, cutting through the multiple conversations around the room. “Conor, how does Olave fare?”
“Very well. He has done much to unify the roaming clans in the north. He says they soon will be ready for a leader. He has hinted that they are hoping for a McTiernay,” Conor replied, his voice casual but loud enough for everyone to hear.
“I thought Olave would be seeking the title. Banded together, they will be quite fearsome.”
Conor shrugged his shoulders, somewhat exaggerating the gesture. “I told him he should be chief, but he doesn’t want it. He believes only someone from one of the nearby larger families can truly bind the sparse nomadic tribes and keep them together.”
Colin angled his head slightly and leaned forward to pick up his quaich. “There may be some truth behind his sentiments. The tribes would be more likely to unite if they knew their leader had the support of nearby clans.” Colin swallowed a gulp of ale. “But Olave has our support. This should not be a reason for his refusal.”
“It’s not,” Conor said in agreement while tapping Laurel possessively on the knee. “The man’s in love. Hazel finally convinced him to marry her.”
Colin finished off his ale and put the cup back on the table for it to be refilled. “Quite a determined woman, Hazel. Not many like her.”
Laurel gave her husband a sidelong glance and tried unsuccessfully to get up. “You are being quite loud, Conor, and seriously out of character. Since when do you talk of love, yell across rooms, and keep me planted on your lap in front of company?” she asked in hushed tones.
“Since now,” Conor whispered, hoping the tight squeeze of his hand on her abdomen would encourage her silence. It didn’t work.
“And is it a coincidence that Colin seems to be suffering the same bizarre inflection that has come over you?”
“What do you think?” Conor asked rhetorically before continuing. “Olave is a lucky man, very lucky indeed. How many women would spend five years of their life with a man who vowed himself against the evils of marriage?”
“Most people thought Hazel was a fool waiting for him,” Colin returned.
“Aye, but a dedicated fool. And it paid off. You know what he told me when last we met? That he had finally found where he belonged.”