Alec Mackenzie's Art of Seduction (Mackenzies & McBrides #9)(91)

“Have I embarrassed you, husband?” she asked.

“Not I. I’m looking forward to it. You’ll draw me in the morning, and we’ll work on Jenny’s portrait in the afternoon. That is, if we have any strength left.”

Celia gave him a mock astonished look. “Are you proposing we do something unseemly in the studio?”

“We’ll see about that, won’t we?”

He moved to kiss Celia, but she put a hand out to stop him. “Alec,” she said. “I’d also like to do a portrait of both you and Jenny, for the family.”

Alec nodded. “We’ll do one with all three of us. We’ll take it in turns.”

He said it offhand as he rolled Celia down into the bed.

“All four of us,” Celia said. “Sometime soon.”

Alec kissed her lips as she spoke, then he froze, his mouth fused to hers. After a moment, he carefully raised his head. “Four?”

“Yes, indeed. I talked it over with Mary, and we have decided that I am increasing. The child will probably arrive in early spring.”

Alec’s lips parted as he stared down at her, his freckles standing out on his paling cheeks.

“Bloody hell,” he whispered.

“It is the sort of thing that happens when a husband and wife enjoy each other as much as we do.”

“Bloody hell,” Alec repeated. His voice grew louder and more hoarse. “Celia.”

“Yes?”

His arms came around her, and he lifted her to him, pressing his face to the curve of her neck. “Celia, if I lose ye …”

Jenny’s mother had passed bringing her in. She sensed that worry in Alec take shape.

“I am quite robust,” Celia assured him. “And I have the determination of my mother. I will be fine, I have decided.”

Alec lifted his head. Tears stood in his eyes, which shone with hope and fear. “I’ll look after ye. Every day and every hour. You’ll have your portrait of the four of us, I swear it.”

“Excellent.” Celia drew him to her. “Until then …?”

Alec growled. He came down on her, kissing her hard, but he was gentleness itself as he slid inside her.

“I love you, my Celia,” he groaned.

Celia’s heart sang as she let him fill her, reveling in the beauty of her husband. “I love you too, my Highlander.”

Alec kissed her lips, her face. “My beautiful lady, my light. Thank ye for saving my life.”

“I always will, my love.” The words were meant to be tender, but as Alec’s thrusts began, Celia’s desires rose in a sweeping wave, and they came out a cry.

She gave up on words, and wrapped herself around her husband, the two of them entwined in heat and love as the twilight slid away and moonlight bathed them.



Kilmorgan Castle, 1892

Beth Mackenzie gave a contented sigh as her husband fell silent, the story finished.

“I love a happy ending,” Beth said. She and Ian were on the floor now, on a pile of worn rugs that had adorned Kilmorgan in one decade or another. Ian leaned against the desk, Beth lounging with her head on his shoulder, her plaid skirts billowing around them.

“Aye,” Ian said, his voice quiet.

“But don’t stop there,” Beth said. “What happened to Will? Did he marry? Was it Josette? Alec and Celia wouldn’t have mentioned her if she weren’t important, would he?”

Ian waited patiently until Beth’s questions faded. “None of that was in Alec’s or Celia’s journals that I found.” He caressed her arm with his thumb. “Though it might be in their papers I still haven’t decoded.”

“Decoded?” Beth sat up, her interest caught. “Some of them were in code? What sort of code?”

“A simple number and letter substitution. Many of the letters Will wrote after they settled in Paris are in this code. He couldn’t risk the letters the family sent to England or Scotland being intercepted.”

Beth’s fascination increased. “How intriguing. And you broke it?” She laughed and sank back to Ian and the comfort of his arm around her. “A foolish question to ask a man who uses Fibonacci sequences to send me notes.”

A hint of amusement glinted in Ian’s eyes. He enjoyed writing out the messages as much as Beth enjoyed receiving and untangling them.

“Will Mackenzie came up with the codes,” Ian said. “His personal ones are complex, but he also invented one his brothers, sisters-in-law, and father could use for their correspondence. I broke them using much hard work and patience.” Something like a twinkle entered Ian’s eyes. “And the key Will left for them.”

“Rogue.” Beth studied him. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were teasing me.”

Ian gazed down at her, his golden eyes intense. Beth loved it when he looked directly at her, which grew easier for him each year. She knew he saw only her, not anything else around him or what called to him inside his head.

“Aye,” Ian said. “Have I done it right?”

Beth snuggled into him. “You’ve done it marvelously. You know jolly well what happened to Will, and Alec and Celia’s children, and everything else I want to know, don’t you?”

Ian nodded. “But it isn’t in Alec’s story. It’s in Will’s.”