Her Scotttish King_Loving World Read online

  “Aye, maybe you’re right,” he said, nodding thoughtfully. “Honestly, I have to take your word for it. Iain asked our mother to send away for a computer when he was six and he was programming by the time he was seven. But as for me, it was hate at first sight. Maybe because my brother was so obsessed with the damn thing. It all seemed like a dodgy piece of black magic to me. And I still dinnae like the way technology sucks people in and excludes them from the real world right in front of them.”

  He fits right in here, Tara thought with a shake of her head. “I see. Well, I love them,” she said, returning her eyes to her book. “I can’t imagine my life without them, so…”

  Nothing was said for a little while. The silence went on so long, Tara was itching to look up from the book she was pretending to read. But she couldn’t.

  She was actually wondering how long to wait before she should pretend to turn the page when he spoke again. “Tara, can you imagine your life without me?”

  She stilled, stricken. Not knowing why he would ask this or how to answer. “Is that an option?” she asked, honestly curious to hear his response after he’d put so much effort into tracking her down.

  His lips tightened, and she could feel his irritation at being asked a question as difficult to answer as his.

  Then his face relaxed and he reset. “Tara, stand. Let your king look at you.”

  She stood, recognizing the command in his voice. During their indoor babymoon, he’d sometimes go so far as to have her put on clothes, so he could have the pleasure of removing them. By the end of their time in Edinburgh, she’d felt bold enough to model for him, striking sexy poses that darkened his stone-colored eyes with desire and eventually made him abandon their game altogether.

  But tonight, she could barely bring herself to rise from the rocking chair. And she could no longer imagine a world where she was comfortably able to meet his gaze, much less strike a purposefully lewd pose for him.

  The small hiss of the room’s single propane light gave her just the excuse she needed to escape the command. “Does it feel a little cold in here to you? I’m just not used to managing without some form of central heating anymore. Let me go downstairs and turn up the stove. Or rather I can ask Naomi to do it, since I’m still not allowed to touch the stove—that’s a funny story for another time. But the stove heats the whole house, so…”

  Tara trailed off when Magnus stepped directly into her escape path. “Do you no longer trust your king to keep your warm?”

  “Uh…” she said.

  But then his expression sobered and his gaze became serious. “This scheme you’ve come up with…is it meant to replace you? What I mean to say is, are you solving my problem so you can check me off your list without feeling any guilt? So you no longer have to deal with me?”

  Tara was tempted to toss out her earlier “is that an option?” question. But Magnus sounded truly hurt and looked more than a little confused.

  “No, Magnus. That is not why I did this.”

  He tilted his head to the side and asked, “Then why are you suddenly finding it so verrae hard to look at me?”

  “I’m not. I mean, I’m finding it hard to have you looking at me.” She paused for a moment to collect her thoughts. “You…you wear your origins with pride. But I never felt as if I fit in here.” Tara’s eyes remained glued to the floor. “My parents are good, gentle people. So kind-hearted that they did not shun me when I decided to go to college. They taught and raised me well. But I never felt at home with them. I never felt as if this is where I belonged. And then I went off to university and discovered everything I’d been missing. I embraced my new life among the humans. It felt natural to me. And no one… and I do mean no one from my new life has ever seen me like this. Including Milly. I mean, our pack does not believe in pictures, so…”

  “So, I’m the first person from your other life to see you like this,” he murmured.

  She nodded, still unable to meet his eyes. “Having you see me like this…it…I don’t know. It makes me feel…weird. Vulnerable. More exposed than if I were standing before you naked.”

  “You feel exposed and vulnerable,” he repeated. “Are you perhaps scared I will hurt you?”

  Her teeth bit down, chewing at her bottom lip as she chewed at his question. But finally, she shook her head. “No, that’s not it. It’s just...you’re my mate,” she pointed out a bit lamely. Tara knew she wasn’t making this easy for him to understand.

  “Aye, I’m your mate. Are you…could it be that you are frightened of your mate?”

  Again, Tara struggled to give voice to her feelings.

  “Look at me, banrigh…”

  Her heart skipped several beats as she forced herself to make eye contact with him.

  As soon she did, Magnus cupped her face in his large hands and said, “Thank you, Tara. Thank you for coming back here to advocate for me and my kingdom.”

  “It’s really not that big of a deal,” she mumbled. As it turned out, she blushed just as easily as her mother under her mate’s appreciative gaze and comments. She was just glad her skin was too dark for it to be noticeable in a room lit only by a single propane light.

  “Ah, but it is a big deal,” he insisted. “You left this world behind. You never planned to return, did you? But you did. You faced down your past. For me. For my kingdom, which will be blessed with many births in the coming years if your plan works. No one has ever done me such a boon, Tara. And I am not sure if this lifetime will ever be enough to repay you. I am very much in your debt.”

  “You’re welcome,” she answered, her voice hushed with the newness of it all...of him. She was not accustomed to this version of Magnus. The arrogant king had been replaced by a man who sounded as calm and sincere as her father.

  “Now, Tara. I verrae much admire this bonnie dress of yours and I have no wish to bring it harm. I need your help.”

  She was confused for a moment...but the way Magnus held her gaze, she soon understood exactly what he was getting at.

  Tonight was different. They weren’t in Scotland anymore. And he wanted her to undress herself for him.

  Tara reached up and began to unsnap the buttons on her dress with trembling hands. “It may look complicated but it’s really not that hard to figure out. Like the humans we descended from, we make our dresses very simple and purposefully plain. All you have to do is pull open the snap. And there are only, like, five.”

  Magnus made a low appreciative sound and watched her unbutton every single snap as if she were performing a complex magic trick.

  She was almost relieved when the dress was finally off and she was standing in her familiar pink Boux Avenue plunge bra and matching mesh panties. But then Magnus said, “Those, too. And the bonnet.”

  “It’s actually a prayer covering,” she answered. “People get confused about it all the time. Bonnets are what we wear over our prayer coverings when we go outside.”

  Instead of responding, Magnus undid the single oblong wood button on his heavy wool shawl-neck sweater and pulled it over his head, revealing a wicked Edinburgh Rovers exercise tee. “Now you,” he said.

  With a small smile, Tara removed two bobby pins and removed her prayer covering, setting it carefully on the bedside dresser instead of letting it fall to the floor as she had the dress. There were just some habits she could not unlearn no matter how long she’d been gone from St. Ailbe.

  Magnus removed his exercise tee, and his eyes darkened with desire when she opted to go topless, too.

  Kilt and underwear. Socks and tights. Ghillie boots and practical black shoes. They all went into the growing pile on the braided rug until Tara and Magnus stood naked in front of each other.

  “This is the real us,” he said, his voice low and solemn. “Not where we come from. Not our titles or the clothes we wear for individual reasons.”

  Tara nodded, feeling the truth of his words. And just like that, the anxious, self-conscious feeling that had been dogging her since Magnu
s showed up at the town meeting, suddenly disappeared.

  “I don’t want to be chosen by your wolf or your human. I want you to choose me…all of you. So I ask ye again, Tara. Will ye choose me? Not just for your mate, but your king and your family?”

  This time, Tara did not hesitate. There was no shyness, only a step forward as she pulled him down for a kiss.

  They soon fell onto the bed, but Magnus didn’t take full control of their sex as he normally did.

  “Claim your king now, lass,” he commanded, rolling her on top. “Now that I have your whole story, claim me as your whole self.”

  Funny how good she’d become at taking orders over the last few days. Tara lifted and spread her legs wide before taking his large shaft in her hand.

  She angled his shaft and they watched his throbbing erection enter her, stretching her wide as she slowly lowered herself on him, inch by inch.

  “Magnus…” she moaned when he was completely sheathed. Her hips began rolling. “Oh…my goodness…Magnus.”

  He let her use him in this fashion for a little while. But then his breath seized. “Ah, feck this was a bad idea,” he rasped, his hands lifting to grip her hips. “I’m likely to come too fast at the sight of ye alone.”

  However, Magnus didn’t look away and his voice became serious as he said, “Tell me your true heart, Tara. Tell me ye desire me as I desire you.”

  “I do. I do desire you,” she gasped.

  His hands tightened suddenly on her hips, holding her still. “And the next time you have a notion to solve my kingdom’s problems better than I ever could, promise me you will not leave me to do it. Scream at me, punch me, stab me through with my own sword if ye must. Whatever it takes to get through this daft pride of mine. But don’t ever leave your king. Don’t ever leave me like that again.”

  “I won’t,” she promised, her heart softening at his words. “You’re my mate. The father of our children…and besides that, I will kick your ass before I let you yell at me in public like that ever again.”

  He responded with a low chuckle, his hands loosening on her hips as he guided them into a new rhythm. A good rhythm that she felt would set the melody for the rest of their life.

  “Welcome home, Tara,” he said, his eyes adoring as he watched her move on top of him.

  Somehow she knew what he meant. This was all of her taking, claiming, choosing all of him. And now that she’d done so, she finally found someplace new. Somewhere she could always go. Somewhere she’d always fit in, whether she was dressed as the old Tara or the new or completely naked. She’d found someone to accept her exactly as she was for all that she was.

  Home.

  In Magnus she’d found her true home.

  “Welcome home, Magnus,” she answered, sensing he felt the exact same way she did.

  And then the time for talking was over. She bent forward, needing his mouth, and they kissed each other hello before taking a new trip to the stars.

  When they’d first met Magnus had thought Tara a fierce hell wolf, in need of taming. But as he watched her go wild on top of him, near paralyzed by the intensity of his own release, he realized she was the one who had tamed him.

  They weren’t like his parents at all, he understood in that moment. They were their own distinct thing. And just like that, after years of bitterness, he let the dire “lessons” of his father’s pain go and vowed to write a new story. A true legend that would end happily with this she-wolf by his side.

  He lay contented with her afterwards in the simple, beautifully carved bed. And though her stomach was only slightly pooched, his hand rested there, an umbrella of safety for the life growing within.

  He’d always thought his Highland kingdom village to be quiet at night. But Tara’s childhood home was a quiet like none he’d ever known. And perhaps he would have fallen asleep in the simple bed, holding the female who’d finally chosen him without any equivocation.

  But then a new series of sounds cut through all the peaceful quiet. Soft whimpers, accompanied by low feral grunts and the fast creaks of a handcrafted bed being put to strenuous use.

  Tara raised herself to look over her shoulder at him. “Is that…?”

  As if in answer to her question, his mother’s voice cried out, “Si, Lachlan, si! I’m…I’m…” Whatever she was about to say was lost in a sea of Italian that despite having grown up with the sensuous romance language, Magnus steadfastly refused to comprehend.

  “Wow,” Tara whispered, turning to face him when the noise finally died down.

  “Aye, wow is correct,” he answered. “This pack town of yours seems to be a magical potion that dispenses with history and pride.”

  She snickered. “Or your parents were bored and really horny. My own parents are probably going at it right now. Seriously, sex is all mated couples have to do at night around here. My parents are just way…way quieter about it. How did I not guess your mom would be a screamer?”

  He chuckled along with her, but then he sobered, thinking of the string of petty arguments that had torn his parents apart. Because neither of them would bend…

  No, he wouldn’t be like that, he decided. He thought of her parents at the dinner table downstairs… the way her da’s story had perfectly encapsulated how it felt when Magnus first met Tara. As if she were the first wolf he’d ever scented… and that he should do whatever it took, change however he needed to change, to make her his.

  “I am your king, but you could rule me if you wished,” he said, his voice quiet in the dark and resonant with the absolute truth of what he’d said.

  “I don’t want to rule you,” she said, her voice just as fierce as his. “I never wanted that.”

  “But you could, if you wished,” he said. “Demand I move to the city and give up my throne, even though I have this vision of us. How good we could be if we compromised and split our time between the city and the country. But I can ken now why living as ye used to might not hold any more appeal to you than an early morning jump in our loch. So, if the city is how it needs to be, we can live in Edinburgh. I’m the king of Scotland, but you’re my banrigh. And I will humble myself in whatever way you wish so long as you’re by my side.”

  He waited. But no answer came. For so long he feared she’d fallen asleep in the middle of his impassioned speech.

  But when he looked over to check, he found her staring at him as if she’d merely been waiting for him to turn his head so they could have this moment.

  “Magnus, do you know how long I worked at building that wall around me. But you tore it down in less than a week. I came back here for you. Isn’t it obvious I feel the same? You could rule me, too, if you wished. Command me back to the country and I’d follow you, dutiful like how I’d been raised. Why do you think I was trying so hard to get away from you? Because I knew. I knew from the start that you could overpower me. Physically, emotionally, in every way that counted.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you,” he said in the quiet dark. “I’m sorry I was such an eejit that ye had to come back here alone.”

  “It just felt so obvious to me. But I didn’t know if they’d go for it. And when I tried to explain it to you…”

  “I was too caught up in my own ego to give your sensational idea a proper listen. That is not something I will be forgiving myself for anytime soon.”

  Her voice became soft again. “There’s…there’s nothing to forgive. I was scared of what was developing between us and I think you were, too. I think maybe we scared each other.”

  “Aye,” he answered. “I suspect that’s because I’m in love with ye.”

  She went stiff in his arms, and he waited for her to say something rude or sarky like, “Magnus, you great eejit. We barely know each other. What kind of git says something so daft within four weeks of heating a lass?”

  “Wow, you’re an idiot,” she said, shaking her head at him. “We barely know each other and the first time we met, you were holding a gun on me and Milly. Plus, w
e’ve only been wolf-mated for four weeks.”

  Almost word for word what he’d thought she’s say. But then she smiled and said, “So I guess that makes me an idiot, too. Because I love you right back.”

  A slow grin spread across his face.

  “Say it again.”

  “I love you right back, you arrogant Scottish asshole.”

  “Swearing at a king. That is most definitely against our laws…”

  “We’re not in Scotland,” she reminded him, sticking out her tongue.

  Nae, they weren’t. This was Canada. But as it turned out, Magnus’s leaf hadn’t quite fully turned over to a new page.

  Because in the next moment he lowered himself between his Tara’s legs and punished her dearly for her unlawful action in way neither of them were ever likely to forget.

  Epilogue

  One month. Magnus had convinced Tara to return to Faoltiarn and live there with him for one month. Just through the Autumn Test Matches…which he then had to explain weren’t actual tests, but showy international games. The Rovers would be at home, hosting the matches for three weekends in November before going on the road for a number of European fixtures—nae, that’s not an architectural term. Fixtures are matches against other rugby teams which were played at home and away. They were the matches that counted most because they resulted in cups and trophies—and, aye, his 100th cap—after which he’d been planning to retire….

  Like most wolves in professional sports, Magnus only needed to retire from the sport when he felt like it since his wolf genes helped him to heal faster and age more slowly than most human players his age. But he promised his mate if she truly did not like Faoltiarn, he’d delay his retirement plans. They would limit their time in the Highlands until the bairns were born, and she could even join him on the road if she so wished.

  Yet four months later, Magnus woke to find Tara’s side of the bed empty…again. And it occurred to him he might never have brought her home to Faoltiarn if he’d known he would be waking up alone for the remainder of the foreseeable future.