When a Scot Ties the Knot (Castles Ever After #3)(78)

“Mo charaid.” Logan reached to take the field surgeon’s hand. “I owe you a debt for saving my life. It willna be forgotten. Thank you.”

Munro nodded.

“That said, I hope you’ll take this in the kindest possible way. Get out. I want to be alone with my wife.”

The grizzled surgeon cracked a rare smile. “That I can do.”

Once they were alone, Maddie settled on the bed next to him.

“Come here, then.” He pulled her close, burying his face in her neck.

She resisted. “You just heard the man. That wound will take a month to heal. For the past several days, the both of us worked day and night to keep you alive. I’m not going to undo it all now.”

“If I have to wait a month to hold you tight, I swear I’ll die of wanting first.”

She stroked a hand through his hair. “I suppose a gentle embrace might be acceptable.”

He supposed he would take that.

She scooted her backside further onto the bed and cozied up to him, molding the curve of her body to his and laying her head on his chest. Her fingers stroked lightly on his collarbone, back and forth.

He pressed his nose to the top of her head and breathed deep.

She gave a soft laugh against his chest.

“What is it?”

“Oh, Logan. I hate to tell you this. But I think we’re cuddling.” She nuzzled into the linen of his shirt. “You’re doing a wonderful job of it, too.”

The little minx. Very well, she’d finally gotten her way.

They were cuddling.

And Logan rather liked it.

He loved it.

And it seemed she must truly love him. Or had succeeded in convincing herself that she did.

He slicked his hand down the tight braid of her hair. “You didna leave me.”

“Not for a single hour.”

He knew it. She’d been by his side through everything. The blood, the stitching, the cautery, the fever and racking chills. He’d felt her presence beside him, her arms holding him when he couldn’t cease shaking on his own. Her faint scent of lavender and sweetness had reached him even in sleep.

And the dreams. He’d dreamed of her, day and night, and for the first time in his life there was nothing cold or dark or lonely about those fantasies. They were flooded with more color and light than a circus tent.

Her shoulders gave another slight quiver. Was she laughing at him again?

He heaved a teasing sigh, then regretted it. Even sighing hurt. “What have I done that’s so humorous this time?”

She didn’t answer. Because, just as softly as she’d started to laugh a few minutes earlier, she had begun to cry.

“I was so afraid.”

“It’s all right, mo chridhe. It’s all right. I’m here now. I’m not going to leave you, either.”

He tipped her lovely face to his.

And then he kissed her. How could he not?

If he tried to speak, he would have failed. There were no words for the emotions flooding his chest. His heart pounded in his chest so fiercely that he feared it would break his ribs again—-this time from the inside. Or simply burst from being swollen with too much feeling.

Too much joy.

All that emotion had to go somewhere, or it would surely kill him. A kiss was the only answer.

She kissed him back, as though it meant her very life as well, sliding her fingers into his damp hair to hold him tight. Beneath the bed linens, sleeping parts of him began to stir and assert their vitality, making demands. We’re not dead yet, they said.

“I want you,” he whispered, tugging at the neckline of her frock and bending to kiss her neck. “Here. Now. Maddie, I need you.”

I love you. God, I love you.

The thought moved through his mind, and Logan fought the instinct to drive it away. He didn’t say it aloud—-but he didn’t chase it down and squash it like a bug, either. That alone felt like a victory.

He moved one hand to her breast, thumbing her nipple to a tight point and easing his fingers under the lacy neckline of her powder--blue frock to feel the delicate heat of her skin. A possessive growl rose in his chest.

“Logan . . .”

Despite her chiding tone, she let her head roll to the side, giving him more room to nibble at her earlobe.

“Let me have you, mo chridhe.” He slid his hand inside her stays, cupping her breast. “We won’t be disturbed.”

“Logan.” She pulled away with obvious regret. “Munro said no strenuous exercise. You know I can’t ignore his orders. I care about you too much.”

He let his head fall back against the pillow.

“So . . .” She walked her fingers up the center of his bandaged chest, until they reached his breastbone and her eyes lifted to his. “ . . . we’ll have to be very, very careful.”

Yes. Holy God, yes.

“I can be careful. I can be so careful.” Logan reached for her.

“Shhh.” She held those two fingers against his solar plexus and pushed him, gently but firmly, back against the bed. “I’m the one who’s going to be careful. Just let me do everything.”

“You dinna have to do everything.”

Her fingers pinned him to the mattress. “I’m going to do everything. And you must lie there and take it.”