He must have read her thoughts for he held up his hands between them, rattling the chains and pointing out the first thing she must do. Her thoughts went blank when she tried to think of what she must do after that. Retrieving the key from where she'd hidden it, she began walking towards him. Padruig climbed to his feet waiting for her.

Panic was written in her eyes and in the frown that sat on her forehead. Padruig felt the need to ease her fears and allow her to keep her pride now that he understood more about what drove her to these daft actions. He'd allowed his pride to push her away and now he would have to bend to get her back. Though he was not usually the one to bend, he saw something in her eyes that promised such possibilities and such opportunities that he wanted to give her the chance.

"You have nothing to fear from me, Cat," he said softly.

She shook her head and he watched as the loosened tendrils of hair spun around her face, making her look softer than he'd seen. Her hands shook as she reached out with the key to remove the chains. When the chains fell away from his wrists, he stopped her from stepping away, taking her chin in his hand and guiding her mouth to his. Her mouth softened beneath his and he heard her breathing quicken.

More importantly, she did not pull away.

Her success at this was not hers to prove it was his. He should have known better that first night. He should have taken her gently and not let his anger over the marriage contract interfere with that first experience. He should have introduced her to the pleasures of the marriage bed. But, he had failed her that night.

Padruig would not fail her this time.

Reaching around her head, he did the thing he'd thought of doing so many times he tugged the leather tie free and let her hair unwind from its braid. Sliding his fingers through it, he tugged her towards him, holding her close as he deepened the kiss. He tilted his head and possessed her mouth as he'd recently fantasized about doing ... and he did it over and over until they were both breathless. She watched him through each kiss and Padruig saw disbelief deep within her blue eyes as her body reacted even before she understood.

But he understood and his body did as well, his cock hardening and lengthening and readying itself for what was to happen between them. The blood thundered through his veins, lust heating it and pushing it faster and hotter through him. He took in and released several deep breaths, needing his control so that this time removed all the memories of the last from her mind. Padruig held her face near hers, kissing her more gently now, and sliding his other hand down along her neck and shoulder and skimming over the fullness of her breasts.

She gasped at the feel of such a caress.

Catriona waited for the inevitable as she enjoyed his kisses more than she had the first time. His tongue slipped into her mouth when she gasped and touched hers, sending shivers and chills throughout her body. As his hand moved away from her head and his fingers touched her breasts and then eased down over her belly, strange coils of tension began to twist deep within her. Just when she thought he would touch her there, he paused and kissed her more fiercely, before resting his hand on her hip.

Sensations unlike anything she'd felt raced through her blood and her heart and her body, urging her to move closer, to open to him and to this enticing heat that built from within her. When he stopped and lifted his head, she recognized merriment in his dark green eyes.

"Disgusted yet?" he asked in a deeper voice than usual. "Any revulsion or other loathing?"

He was jesting with her, but all she could think of was how different his touch was this time, how pleasant, nay, pleasurable it was compared to their first night. If she'd felt these kinds of sensations that night, the last four months would not have been wasted and empty.

"Nay," she said, shaking her head and laughing gently. "None yet."

The expression that filled his eyes then made her lose her breath, for it was hot and lustful. Could this truly work between them? Padruig dipped his head closer and kissed her again. She liked his kisses and allowed him to repeat that melding of their mouths again and again. Her body grew heated and wet between her legs and a strange and wondrous ache began to throb there, too. The urge to rub against him and the hardness of his strong body grew and she felt herself arch against him.

Before she knew what he was about, he'd scooped her up in his arms and began climbing the stairs to the loft. She wanted to ask him so many things but the feelings racing through her pushed all her questions and doubts aside as she allowed him to carry her towards that scandalous bed.

Daylight entered the chamber from the small windows all around the perimeter of the room. Not so large that anything could fit through them, but large enough to allow a good flow of light inside the loft, these windows made it possible to see him as he laid her on the bed and loosened his clothing. Tempted to look away, his command, or rather his demand, surprised her yet again.

"Look at me, Cat."

She did, watching as his strong hands unbuckled his belt and then dropped it at his feet. His tunic and trews followed, even his boots and hose, until he stood naked before her. She felt the heat rising in her cheeks as she watched his body react under her gaze. Cat followed the dark thatch of hair down his chest, past his belly and then to where his manhood rose from the curls, proving his readiness to join their bodies. She swallowed and then swallowed again, fighting the fear that tried to replace the heat in her.

"Trust me, Cat." This time his words were spoken softly, a plea more than an order and it warmed her. She nodded, though truly not certain she could.

Padruig knelt beside her, watching as her eyes widened and as her gaze flitted to touch on his cock and then away. She'd seemed to enjoy kissing so he eased her back and touched their mouths together. Tasting and teasing her lips and tongue, he waited until she panted before touching any other place on her body.

Though he wanted to touch her everywhere at once.

He almost forgot how innocent she was. He almost forgot the last four months. But when she reached out and boldly wrapped her hand around his hardened flesh, he forgot to breathe and forgot how to think at all. Trying to distract himself from the arousing caress, he began loosening the ties of her tunic and undergown and leaned down to suckle on her now-exposed breasts.

Had they always been this full? Had the nipples been this enticing rosy shade that night too? Their joining had been quick and accomplished in the dark, giving him no opportunity to savour her beauty or her lush womanly curves. This time it would be different for both of them. When she arched against his mouth as he took the tip of a breast into his mouth, he swirled his tongue around it until it pebbled tight and hard.

The gasps turned to moans, his and hers, as they teased each other with tempting kisses, arousing caresses and the need to join their bodies together. When he felt the readiness of her body and the heat and wetness between her legs, he eased on top of her, spreading her legs with his body and rubbed the centre of her arousal until he felt her body begin to tremble. Then, he pressed his hardness deep inside her, inch by inch, allowing her body to adjust as he filled her to her core.

The sounds she made drove him insane with the need to claim her, to bring her to completion now, one that he'd not accomplished that first night, and one that he could not fail to accomplish this time. Easing back out until only the tip of his cock remained within her flesh, he thrust deeper and deeper, feeling her flesh tighten around his, increasing his hardness and readying him to spill his seed there.

Cat could not believe the way her body felt in this moment. Not invaded or violated, but filled with his flesh until they were one. He urged her towards something with whispers and words and caresses and his body until hers responded in kind, rippling from where he thrust, sending waves and waves of indescribable pleasure through her, body and soul. Her muscles tightened, that tension building deep within sprang loose and she moaned out even as he spilled his seed. Her flesh responded, softening and opening, giving over to his complete possession. When she came back to herself, he lay on her, panting softly in her ear. Padruig eased off her, drawing her into his embrace and yet remaining within her at the same time.

She lay silent in his arms, listening to the steady beat of his heart and trying to understand all that had happened between them. He kissed her forehead as he eased out of her body and the place there ached with an emptiness she did not know she could feel. Had she pleased him enough to make him give up Seana though? She feared asking him anything that would mar the wondrous satisfaction that filled her in that moment. Still though, she wanted to know. But before she could ask him, he spoke.

"Did you prove it to yourself, Cat? Can you find pleasure in my bed?" He turned on his side and touched her cheek, drawing her gaze to his. "Will you return to my bed and be my wife in all ways?"

Catriona understood the cost of his question to his pride. He was admitting his part in the debacle that had sent them down this path of separation and unhappiness. Padruig was giving her a chance at fulfilment and happiness ... and mayhap even love.

"Aye, if you'll have me, Padruig."

He smiled and her heart raced at the beauty of it the masculine angles of his face eased at her words and his dark green eyes sparkled in reply. Still, there was one matter that needed to be clarified between them.

"And Seana?"

He laughed then, kissing her on the mouth quickly before nodding. "She left a sennight ago, Cat."

Catriona sat up, gathering her garments around her and shook her head. "You sent her away? Why?"

Padruig pushed up to sit next to her, quite at ease with his nakedness. "I had this foolish notion to ask my wife to return to my bed. I would have, but I was kidnapped before I could discuss it with her."

"You jest!" she said, unsure if she could or should believe his words. "You mean none of this was necessary?" She'd risked so much, not the least of which was his brothers' relationship with him as brother and as their laird if he discovered their involvement in her plot.

"Not necessary but, besides the ambush, quite enjoyable," he said, laughing. He grew serious then and stared at her intently. "Did it please you, Cat? Did I please you this time?" Had it not been obvious to him? She'd melted in his embrace, her body played by his touch and his hands and his mouth. As though she'd spoken the words aloud, he continued. "What happened between us that first night should never have happened. Will you be able to put it behind us and forgive me?"

Tears burned in her eyes but she dashed them away. She nodded, believing for the first time that they did have a chance at happiness together, something completely unthinkable just days before. He kissed her, pulling her close and holding her to him.

"When will Dougal and Jamie return to free us?"

Cat drew back, surprised at his words. Did he know or was he seeking out information? His mischievous smile told her that he did indeed know.

"In two days," she answered, watching his expression change into something dark and enticing and wicked.

"Time enough to begin ..." he said, as he began kissing not just her mouth but her neck and then her shoulders and then ... and then ...

By the time his brothers arrived two days later, she could not move a muscle. His possession of her body complete and that of heart begun, she almost wished she'd told them to wait three days before returning.

Four.

With the excuse of seeking out the good wine from the storage room below, Padruig pulled on his trews and climbed down the stairs to that chamber. Instead of heading for the barrel of wine, he sought the hidden door behind a storage trunk. Making his way through the tunnel and along the stream, he climbed up to the path and returned to the front of the house where his brothers waited.

Giving no warning, he grabbed and tossed Jamie to the ground and then managed to land a solid punch to Dougal's jaw before they realized he was there. The feel of it was satisfying, for he was certain that Dougal had been the one who sent him to his knees during the kidnapping.

"What the hell?" Dougal said, rubbing his face.

"That was for agreeing to carry out her foolish plan without telling me about it," Padruig said. Dougal shrugged as though kidnapping your brother and laird was a commonplace thing.

"Did it work?" he asked. "That's all I want to know." He crossed his arms over his chest and angled his head while waiting for Padruig to answer.

"Come back in two more days and I'll tell you," he answered. Those were all the words he was willing to say right now.

"I was right, Padruig. Just admit it," Dougal pushed.

Padruig did not answer. Instead he walked away, retracing his path back to the tunnel. He heard his brothers laugh as he did, but he cared not. The entire clan would know soon enough that he'd claimed his bride, even if it was four months late.

After entering the storage room and finding the wine, he climbed back up to the loft with it. Cat lay as he'd left her replete and exhausted from his attentions. A purely male sense of satisfaction filled him now as well, knowing that he'd seen to her pleasure countless times already and would again now that they had two more days of privacy away from the world. As he climbed on to the wide surface of the bed, she stirred, reaching out and resting her hand on his stomach as he moved closer. He stirred, well his flesh did, and she welcomed him between her thighs with a delicious sigh he was coming to crave. When they could speak again, Cat reminded him that his brothers would arrive soon. Unwilling to confess that he could have escaped her at any time through the hidden door in the cellar, Padruig smiled and suggested that he remain kidnapped for two more days.

But it was four more days before the laird and lady returned to their keep.

Together.

Kissingate Magic.

Annette Blair.

The matchmaking fairy of Kissingate, Every year capitulates And brings a pair who hesitates, A love meant to be.

She's the shape-shifting fairy of Kissingate Nudging an intractable young prelate Who lost what he could never see straight: A love meant to be.

Kissingate, Scotland, 1846.

One.

Jacey Lockhart, hidden in the midnight shadows, fixed her hungry gaze on Gabriel Macgregor, the most formidable of the ghosts she had come home to face.

Gabriel the guarded named for the bright angel, when he should have been named for the dark lowered his head to avoid an old oak barn beam, the hint of a smile in his eyes ... until he saw her.

The knave stepped back, stretched to his full towering height, and squared his shoulders to a stunning span Lucifer, face carved in unforgiving angles.

Despite her resolve, Jacey wanted to catch the next train back to Essex, though she couldn't seem to move.

Here stood the father of her child, and firm between them, the lie she told denying it. In one stroke, she'd saved and destroyed him.

A horse shuffled in its stall, freeing hay musk into the air, breaking the silence, hazing the past, and allowing her to breathe.

As forbidding as her nemesis appeared in lantern light, dressed entirely in black, the tiny white lamb tucked into his frockcoat humanized him, the contrast bringing his cleric's collar into conspicuous relief. A rogue's heart, a vicar's trappings, and no one seemed to know, save her.

His face, lined and bronzed by age and parish responsibility, gave him a mature, patrician air. His hair, a tumble of sooty waves, thick and lush, showed grey at the temples. No ghost, but the bane of her existence in the flesh, more vitally masculine than ever.

He'd always been proud, even when they were children he, a poor vicar's son, she, the heir to a fortune. But she'd reversed their roles. Now, a disinherited outcast, she stood, once again, before the boy who adored her, then hated her, with all his heart. "Gabriel," she said, wishing her voice didn't tremble and her body didn't remember.

Two.

Gabriel wondered if the sum and substance of all his dreams, good and bad, could hear his stone cold heart knocking against his ribs. "Jace," he said, his rasp awkward.

He cleared his throat, but Suttie stepped up and kissed him on the cheek. Suttie, the ageless puppeteer whose gypsy wagon they'd once chased giggling down the High Street. "Welcome, both of you," Gabe said, his voice working, again, hope suddenly alive.

Suttie beamed. "I see you found the surprise I brought."

Found her? He thought. He couldn't take his eyes off her.

"Aye, Gabriel, I've come home. I'll stay in Suttie's wagon."

Gabe's chest ached for hiding his joy. "You'll both stay at Kirk Cottage. No argument, now."

Suttie beamed; Jacey looked terrified.

"Please, Lady Lockhart?" Gabe begged in the way Jace once commanded, for a piece of butterscotch pie, but the words evoked her fall from grace. "I apologise," he said. "That was thoughtless."

"Aye, it was." Jace turned to Suttie. "Can I stay in your gypsy wagon? I'll take the morning train back. I shouldn't have come."

Gabriel gave the lamb to Suttie, placed his hand against Jacey's back to propel her towards the vicarage, her body heat curling like a spiral around his icy heart.

Inside, she stepped from his touch. "I won't stay. I cannot."

If she left again, she'd never come back. The thought of losing her forever cut deep. Gabe turned to build up the fire in the hearth to chase away the damp, warm the lamb, and gather his wits.

Jacey, here, in his house, where he pictured her nearly every day.

His Jacey. As beautiful as ever. More.

No, not his. Never again. That was past.

He was a vicar now, in control, unemotional, his passion a vice overcome. Long-buried. Dead. He turned to his guests. "Mackenzie's asleep, so I'll ready your rooms."