The Wicked Deeds of Daniel Mackenzie

Violet tried a smile. “His inventions are very important to him.”

Ian’s expression didn’t change. “Family is more important. Now you are his family.”

And that was the end of the discussion.

The guests in the ballroom turned as Violet walked past them. They were all members of the family, or close friends and neighbors. No one else, Daniel had said severely. This was to be a private occasion, no showing off to the world.

For the private occasion, the ballroom was packed. Most of the guests were Mackenzies, the room filled with blue and green plaid. Some were McBrides, Ainsley’s brothers—the four of them and their families at the front of the room. Celine was there with Ainsley, looking ready to dissolve into tears.

Daniel had given the house in London he’d bought from Mortimer to Celine, who had been gushingly grateful. Celine planned to keep sitting the seances, she said, with Mary’s help. Her timely vision of Daniel needing help had made her more eager than ever to share her gift.

Bagpipes sang Violet down the aisle. Mackenzie clan members watched her come—tall men with hair every shade of red from darkest auburn to bright carrot. The Mackenzie, the clan chief, a straight and tall man with white hair, made Violet a bow as she walked by.

But when Daniel smiled at Violet as she stopped beside him, nothing else mattered. The warmth of Daniel, the gleam in his eyes, was the only thing Violet needed. He’d saved her life.

The bishop began. The ceremony wound its way along, and Violet made the correct responses, barely hearing herself. Only the words of the vows mattered—Violet plighting her troth to Daniel, he promising to care for her until the end.

Then she was wed. Daniel lifted the veil from Violet’s face and kissed her.

The crowd behind them let out whoops and screams. Pipes played, children shrieked, and shouts and laughter rang out.

The festivities began. There was the wedding feast, laid out across several rooms. Then dancing and flowing whiskey, the party lasting through the afternoon and on into the night.

Violet laid aside her veil and joined in the Scottish dances that Ainsley and Eleanor had taught her. Violet loved dancing alongside Daniel, holding hands with him, or threading through the other dancers in the line. The pipes, fiddles, and drums were energizing, the room filled with joy. At one point, Daniel was coaxed into doing a sword dance, which he performed with athletic grace. Then Jamie Mackenzie performed it, showing the same grace and skill, to the delight of all, and Ian’s pride.

“He’s a good lad,” Ian said to Violet, squeezing her hand hard. “My son. He’s happy.” The last was said with even more pride.

The Mackenzie children stayed awake long past their bedtimes, until they dropped off one by one. Gavina and Stuart begged to be allowed to have Violet and Daniel carry them up to bed, and Violet happily concurred. Violet too was wearying, though she was pleasantly tired, not exhausted.

“’Tis not really for us,” Daniel said, as he climbed to the nursery beside Violet. Stuart was already asleep on his shoulder, his golden red hair tousled, though Gavina resolutely kept her eyes open. “The wedding of a clan member reassures the others of the continuation of the clan. At least that’s the excuse for all the drinking and dancing.” Daniel winked. “And other things, as the night goes on. My family is not prudish.”

Violet laid Gavina in her bed in the large nursery, while Daniel tended to Stuart. Violet leaned down and kissed Gavina good night.

“Night, Violet,” Gavina said happily. “Since you’re married now, you and Danny can have lots of babies. Hurry, please.” She delivered her demand, then closed her eyes and drifted to sleep.

“My sister knows her mind,” Daniel said. He put a gentle hand on Stuart’s back, the fondness in his eyes plain to see. Daniel leaned down and kissed his brother’s forehead, then he took Violet’s hand and led her out of the room.

The hallway outside the nursery was deserted. Daniel leaned Violet against a wall by a large window and curved over her. “I know my own mind too. ’Tis a family trait. I’m dying for ye, Mrs. Mackenzie.”

His kiss took Violet’s breath away. Daniel had her pressed to the wall, his strength pinning her, the wooden paneling hard against her back.

The feeling of the wall behind her and a strong man before her stirred the fringes of Violet’s old panic. But Violet forced herself to the present. This was Daniel, leaning into her lovingly, his mouth coaxing, tender.

She and her husband kissing in the hall was now, her life. Daniel had taught her that a man wanting a woman could touch her gently, could draw from her the greatest pleasure she could feel.

Daniel kissed Violet until she knew nothing but him, this heat, his mouth, the caress of his lips. His hands warmed her, arms coming around her to pull her from the wall and into him. The panic floated away into the darkness.

Daniel stopped to kiss Violet several times as he led her down the stairs and to the large bedroom in the Cameron family wing. Locking the door behind them, Daniel pushed Violet step by step toward the bed, unbuttoning her clothes as they went. Violet, laughing, unbuttoned his.

Halfway across the rug, Violet was out of her bodice, Daniel, his coat and waistcoat. At the dressing table, Daniel’s collar and shirt came off as did Violet’s corset, lovingly unlaced by Daniel’s strong hands. At the chaise at the foot of the bed, it was Daniel’s socks and shoes and Violet’s petticoats.

When they reached the bed, Daniel lifted Violet into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist. He kissed her as he held her, hands firm on her back, then he laid her on the mattress and divested her of drawers and ruffled camisole. Off came his kilt then, landing in a pool of plaid on the floor.

Daniel, unclothed. Lamplight touched his bronzed skin, tanned from the sun, except where his kilt would shield him—there he was Scottish fair.

Violet loved looking at him. His arms were corded with muscle, his chest broad, the inked design of the dragon cutting across his forearm.

He looked her over in return, and Violet flushed with excitement. Daniel’s scrutiny of her bare body wasn’t debasement. This was intimacy, love, need.

Daniel gazed at her with slow desire, his eyes the color of whiskey in the darkness. He moved his gaze from her legs to the join of her thighs, up over her waist to the rise of her breasts. He lingered there for a time before his gaze rested on her face, the love in his eyes intoxicating.

Daniel climbed onto the bed, but instead of coming over her, he stretched out beside Violet, running his hand across her belly. His cock lay hot against Violet’s side, but Daniel didn’t hurry. As much as she knew he wanted her, Daniel was taking his time.

Slow goodness. Violet held her breath, uncertain she could wait for slow goodness tonight.

Daniel’s hand dipped between her legs, drawing from her a moan of delight. He kissed her, his mouth opening hers, while he let his fingers dance. Heat spiraled Violet upward, erasing all thought, all worries, everything but Daniel and the feeling of him touching her.

Violet caught his shoulders in her strong grip, pulling him to her. “Now,” she said hurriedly. “Please. Now.”

Daniel smiled, his wickedness returning. “My pleasure, love.”

His smile died as he moved over her. With one thrust, Daniel was inside her, and Violet rose over the top, any lingering terror chased away by a darker wildness.

Violet let herself be carried by the wave, Daniel there to hold her. He let her fly free, but at the same time he grounded her, keeping her safe.

“I love you!” Violet shouted it, no longer fearing the words. She was his, and he hers. Together. For now. For always.

“I love you, Vi, my sweetest Violet.” Daniel’s words came fast, breathy, his body rocking against hers. The joining was fierce, Daniel bracing himself as he thrust into her again and again.

They perspired in the warm room, the fires stoked high so the bridal couple would not grow cold. Violet ran her hands over Daniel’s body, welcoming him, loving him inside her. Daniel’s eyes widened as his end came, the sparkling depths holding the love of ages.