Was there a part that bored or that you didn't really like in the book? *

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Even a character, a scene, or anything that you enjoyed.

For my next project you prefer... *

• New series started from scratch.
• A new sequel to an old series.

Do you like the single dad/single mom trope? *

• I love it! I love reading about the parent-child connection.
• Not really. I prefer stories where children come in the epilogue, otherwise the story is a bit child-centered.

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The chapel, Castle MacLeod, a month later…

Sofia, looking lovely in her dress, placed the coronet of white and pink roses atop Raven’s shining black hair and then looked in the mirror to admire her handiwork.

“Ye make a stunnin’ bride, Raven, truly beautiful,” she told Raven’s reflection with a smile of delight. “Dae ye nae agree, Dahlia?” she added, turning her sunny smile on Arne’s sister, who was wearing a bridesmaid’s dress that matched Sofia’s. It suited her icy blonde beauty perfectly.

“She absolutely is. Arne’s gonnae be thrilled when he sees ye, Raven,” Dahlia assured her with a smile. She produced a narrow ribbon from the bodice of her dress and gently took hold of Raven’s wrist. She tied the ribbon loosely around it and patted Raven’s hand affectionately when she had finished.

“Thank ye, Dahlia,” Raven said, her nervous anticipation growing apace.

Catalina, the wife of Arne’s other brother Ivar came to stand with them, looking at Raven admiringly, making yet a third bridesmaid. “Ye look radiant,” she said, smiling at Raven in the mirror. “Arne is a very lucky man.”

Raven looked at herself in the glass with wonder. “Is it really me?” she asked, unable to stop smiling. Her dress was cream satin, with a pale-blue jacquard pattern on the bodice. Its simple cut flattered her figure, and she loved it. “I dinnae think I have ever looked so sophisticated.”

“Well, make the most of it then,” Catalina joked, making them all laugh. Raven had soon learned after meeting the dark-eyed beauty that she was wickedly funny and fierce too. But she suited Ivar perfectly. He was a wall of a man, another blond-haired Viking like Haldor. He appeared quite intimidating until one got talking to him about his brothers. Then he turned into a different man, his deep love for them obvious. Raven had warmed to him right away as well.

“Now, if we are all ready,” Dahlia said at last, “I think it is time we left for the chapel. Ye dinnae want tae be late fer yer own wedding, dear, dae ye?”

Raven could not help laughing at that, and as they left the chamber, she felt buoyed up with excited anticipation. It seemed like a wonderful dream that in an hours’ time, she would be the wife of the man she adored.

Arne stood nervously at the altar, feeling hot in his full kilt and regalia as he waited for his bride to arrive. He could hardly breathe with excitement to think that in a short while his beloved Raven would be standing next to him and exchanging vows. Today, she would become his completely, forever. Despite his discomfort, he felt on top of the world!

When he heard the chapel doors creak open behind him and the congregation gasp, he could not resist turning to look. His breath left his body as his eyes alighted on her, her arm linked with Everard’s. His heart swelled with love and pride as he watched her standing there, a vision of beauty in her elegant gown.

In her other hand, she was holding Thorsten’s small paw. They both smiled at him, and Thorsten, looking unbearably adorable in his miniature Highlander outfit, waved at him merrily. Arne’s heart was in his throat as the procession made its way to the altar as fast as little Thorsten’s little legs allowed.

He could see the lovely bridesmaids carrying Raven’s train, but he really only had eyes for her. He hardly took in the guests seated in the pews, a mix of the MacLeods and MacNeils, friends and advisors, who looked on with smiles as she passed.

When Raven finally reached him, she smiled up at him, her eyes full of love. He thought she had never looked more beautiful. Dahlia came up and collected Thorsten, taking him back to sit with her and the rest of the family.

“Ye look stunning, bonny lass,” he whispered, his heart thumping. He took her hand in his and squeezed it as they turned to face the minister.

“Ye look very dashin’ yersel’,” she whispered back, squeezing his fingers tightly.

Their gazes locked as the minister intoned the immortal words, “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today tae witness the joining in matrimony of…”

After that, things became somewhat of a blur. There was the time for the handfasting. Ivar came up and joined the ribbon around Raven’s wrist to the matching one he had tied a couple of hours ago around his brother’s. The knot that formed when they moved their hands apart would be a lasting symbol of their union and preserved as a precious keepsake.

At last, Arne heard the minister say, “I now pronounce ye husband and wife. Ye may kiss the bride.”

Needing no second bidding, Arne enfolded Raven in his arms and pressed a sweet kiss to her lips, putting into it all his love and devotion and the promise of a lifetime of bliss spent together. Her warm, soft lips responded eagerly to his, leaving him in no doubt that she shared his sentiments entirely.

“Ye’ve made me the happiest man alive, Raven,” he told her as they stepped away from the altar, to be greeted by a chorus of congratulations and well wishes. He found himself deeply touched by the warmth they received.

She smiled up at him and squeezed his arm affectionately. “And ye’ve made me the happiest of women, me darlin’ husband.”

Arne kicked the marriage chamber door shut with the heel of his boot when the final member of the raucous party that had seen them to bed in the traditional manner had left.

“This is very romantic,” Raven said, standing on the rug in her wedding dress as she looked around the room. Lamps had been lit, and a good fire was blazing the grate. The whole scene had a warm, rosy ambience that Raven found perfect for their first night together as a married couple.

“Now, I have ye all tae mesel’, all legal and above board, eh?” Arne exclaimed playfully, coming over and backing her up against the edge of the bed. He gently pushed her down upon it and stood over her. Raven smiled in welcome and opened her arms to him.

“Alone with me husband, at last,” she whispered in his ear, her hands on his shoulders.

“Yer dress is lovely, but ye’ll look even better out of it,” he said in low growl, making her laugh and gasp at the same time as he suddenly flipped her onto her stomach. The flame inside her sparked into life as she felt his hands working rapidly at the fastenings of her dress. It was soon loose enough for him to pull off her bodice. Raven watched as it landed on the rug nearby, to be quickly followed by her stays.

Now clad only in her shift and stockings, she felt Arne behind her, poised above her. She shivered, sensing his eyes burning into her skin.

“Mmm, what a lovely view,” he murmured appreciatively. Then, Raven gasped and giggled when his hands suddenly slipped beneath her shift and cupped her breasts, pulling her upward against him, his warm breath tickling her neck.

She moaned softly as he rolled her soft globes in his warm, rough palms, squeezing the flesh and pinching the soft tips until they turned hard at his touch, sending shivers of pleasure traveling the length of her body. His mouth roved hungrily over her exposed neck and shoulders, kissing, nuzzling, sucking and biting. One hand trailed lazily from her breast, down her belly, where his fingers finally entwined in the soft, curling nest between her thighs.

Raven trembled with anticipation, reveling in the sensation of his right hand still playing with her breasts, while the other slid between her thighs, his thick fingers prizing them apart just wide enough to grant him access to her hidden folds, which were already growing hot and moist. He cupped her entire sex in his palm, working his hand back and forth, while his fingers delved inside her, first one then another, his thumb strumming at her sensitive bud, making her moan and tremble with wanting.

With one fluid movement, Arne suddenly turned her to face him, and just the sight of him, his eyes narrow and dark with desire as his head descended between her thighs, filled her with lust. His hot, questing mouth plundered her flesh, teasing and toying with her sensitive bud, his tongue flickering like lightening in and out of her alongside his fingers. It was not long before Raven felt the waves of tantalizing heat coiling up from her molten center, where Arne’s dark head was moving up and down as he worked his magic upon her.

“Ah, Arne, please, dinnae stop,” she cried out softly, gripping his hair, matching every thrust of his fingers with her hips, riding him as the inexorable waves of pleasure began moving up her body like concentric rings, drawing her once more by slow, deliberate degrees to the delicious edge of delirium.

Her head thrown back, she bucked against him as the pleasure reached its ultimate peak and shook her entire being with its intensity.

Dazed and sated as she was, she had little time to recover when she saw Arne standing above her, his face slick with her juices, his glittering eyes pinning her as he kicked off his boots and tore off his jerkin and shirt. She felt a burst of fresh desire to see his muscular torso revealed to her in all its masculine glory. And she knew there was more to delight her beneath his kilt.

“I’ll never get tired of looking at ye. I need more of ye, come tae me,” she enticed him, inflamed by his hunger for her.

He breathed, grinning at her wolfishly. As he came down on his elbows above her, power seemed to ripple through his entire body, the hard muscles flexing like ropes in his arms, shoulders, chest, and belly. Raven was entranced to see how the fire light made the silver trails of his many battle-scars shine like moonlight.

“Nay, ’tis mine tae dae,” she told him breathily, levering herself up and pulling him down onto the bed with her. He laughed delightedly as, feeling bold, she straddled his waist, pressing the hot wetness of her sex against his belly. With a groan, he grasped her and pulled her close, nipping and sucking at her breasts playfully before his mouth captured hers and declared his ownership of her in a deep, intense kiss. Very gently, careful of her still sore scalp, he buried his fingers in her inky tresses as they fell over him like a waterfall, mingling with his own long locks.

“I need ye, all of ye,” Raven whispered, excited to feel his rock-hard manhood pressing into her beneath the material of his kilt. Suddenly, she sat up a little and reached between her legs to capture him in her palm. Then, she guided the head of his shaft to her entrance and slowly, deliberately sank down up on it, her mouth fastened to Arne’s in a passionate kiss as she opened herself up to him completely.

They held each other close, their bodies and tongues entwined, Raven rising and falling, with Arne’s length throbbing inside as if it would split her in two. When they finally came, it was together, panting, slick with perspiration and each other’s juices. Raven collapsed on this chest, and Arne put his arms around her as they lay in the afterglow.

“That was magical,” she whispered, stroking his cheek and looking lovingly into his eyes.

He tilted her chin with a finger and kissed the tip of her nose. “Aye, that must be because ye’re a wee witch, and ye’ve put a spell on me. A spell I never want tae break.”

She laughed. “I’m so very happy, Arne. I dared nae dream of this day fer so long, but now, here I am, really Mrs. Arne MacLeod at last. I love ye so much, and I’m so proud tae be yer wife.”

Arne chuckled and hugged her. “I love ye with all me heart, and I’m very proud tae be yer husband, Mrs. MacLeod. I cannae wait tae spend the rest of me life with me beautiful clever, brave bonny lass.”

Raven smiled with contentment as they cuddled up cozily in each other’s arms, to spend their very first night as a proper married couple. The past was swept away by the bright, happy future that beckoned for their happy little family. She could never have asked for more.

The End.

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