Unfortunately, he could never predict her behavior. If she left before he could reach her, she might make up her mind never to take him back. Hell, it might be too late anyway, after his own behavior over the last few days—but he had to try.

Deciding quickly, he rode straight for the registrar's. Doubts about the secrets of his past continued to resurface, but he pushed them away.Get her , his mind kept commanding.Make her yours.

Ethan would figure out the restafter he made sure she didn't leave him today.

He stormed into the registrar's office more frantic than he'd ever been. The village official was understandably terrified of the unshaven, scarred Highlander smelling of whisky and pounding his fist on the counter. Ethan dimly heard the man relating that it would take days for a special license, and himself replying that this was sodding Scotland, the land of marital loopholes—oh, and that he would build the village a grand new church in exchange.

A church—what a fitting penance. Forty-five minutes later, marriage license in hand, he ran from the building, mounting up and riding hell-bent for Carillon….

Ethan's father had once told him that a man would know the woman he was meant to be with because she made him weak. Till he claimed her and she made him strong.

Maddy had only been waiting for him.

His gut tightened when he spotted the posting coach up the hill, nearing Carillon, and he raced even faster. Barely beating it to the drive, he dropped from his horse, his wound aching.

He caught sight of her standing at the end of the drive, her bags at her feet. She looked like a perfect lady, wearing her black kid gloves and her hat with the sheerest black veil falling to her cheeks. But at the same time, she appeared cold as ice. He knew without a doubt that if he'd missed her, she would have left him and never looked back.

He wanted her so much, wanted her for the rest of his life. And the remarkable thing was that, as of yesterday, she would've accepted a bastard like him. Would she now?

Brows drawn, struggling to catch his breath, he held up the license. "Marry me, lass?"

She tilted her head.

Wee sionnach, wary as ever. And why wouldn't she be? He'd never made the smallest effort to make her feel comfortable or secure. She hadn't been selfish to insist on the marriage—she'd been savvy. "Ten o'clock tomorrow morning. If you'll have me, Maddy, I'll be good tae you," he said with conviction, withfeeling . Because he meant it. "I've been a bloody fool tae treat you this way."

"Why have you been so cruel?" she asked in an inscrutable tone. "Youcame to Paris forme, remember?"

He strode toward her. "And that was the best damned decision I've made in my entire life." He swallowed to see the coach was nearing. "Maddy, I ken I've been acting like a bastard. I said that you could no' do better than me, but that's no' true in any way. I know it more than anybody." He raked his fingers through his hair. "I never lived my life thinking another would share my name. My name and I are a bit…tarnished. You'd probably do well to leave me right now—no matter how badly I want you to stay."

She glanced past him to the coach. She didn't seem even to be listening to him.No, she has to stay.

When he stood just before her, he said, "Maddy, I doona know if I'll be any good at this, at being a husband, but Iwant tae be. I want tae assume my title again and watch over our lands. But only if you agree tae be my lady. If you can just see your way tae forgive me—"

"You're saying you will give up whatever your dangerous profession is?" she asked, still not facing him.

"If it means I get to keep you, then, aye, gladly."

"Is the marriage license why you were away for so long?"

He flushed uncomfortably. "I had to promise the village a new church to get it," he said, hedging.

"What's changed between this morning and now?"

"I finally saw what was right before me." At last, she met his eyes. "Say you'll marry me."

She was silent for what felt like an eternity before she murmured, "Very well."

He stared down in shock, knees about to buckle with relief. "You mean…you will…tae me…in the morning?"

She nodded. "But don't make me regret it, Ethan."

"You will no'." He clasped her to his chest with shaking hands and buried his face in her hair.That's the scent I like. "I was behaving like an imbecile before."

How in the hell had he thought to jeopardize this? He felt as if he'd just dodged a bullet—and having caught several, he didn't feel this lightly.

If she knew where he'd been, it would devastate her. She would gaze up at him, her big blue eyes spilling tears, and he'd tear at his chest, clawing out his bloodied heart in offer to get her to stop.

He squeezed her harder. When the coach pulled to a stop, he waved it away, calling out, "She's stayin'." Once the coach rolled on, Ethan turned back to her with a grin, but she laid her head against his chest as if just savoring the closeness.

"I've missed you, Ethan." Her voice was so sultry that he shuddered with instant lust for her. He hadn't touched or tasted her body for three days, but it felt like a lifetime.

He leaned down to steal a kiss from her, intending only a brief contact. But as ever with her, the kiss turned explosive. Holding her as he took her mouth again and again, he leaned her back over his arm, his free hand gripping her bottom.

When she moaned into his mouth, he somehow drew back, righting them. Shaking his head hard, he yanked his hand from her backside. "Someone will see," he grated. And for once, he cared. He'd not have his wife thought badly of.

"It's market day. Everybody's in town."

So that was why the tavern had been packed. Christ, had anyone seen him? Would it get back to her?

"Have you not missed me?" she asked softly, shyly, her meaning clear.

"You canna imagine, but I can wait until after the wedding. It's what you wanted."

"Can't we…be as we were before? During those nights?"

The idea of her yearning as he did was too powerful. "Anythin'," he rasped, swooping her up in his arms. "Whatever you like." He kissed her, even as he hastened inside, then up the stairs. He nearly stumbled on the landing when she cupped his face and lapped her little tongue at his mouth.

As soon as he'd kicked the bedroom door closed behind him, they were grasping at each other's clothes between frantic kisses. Once he'd gotten her down to her shift, he shrugged out of his shirt.

She worked on his belt with both hands. "God, I want to…" She trailed off, gazing at him with her brows drawn. "Ethan, why do you have lip rouge below your navel?"

Oh, bloody hell.

"In two different shades?"

Bloody, bloody hell.

"I…It's no'…"And he was so close to telling her some fantastic lie, but for the first time in his life—when he needed to the most—he couldn't.

Not even when her eyes watered and her bottom lip trembled and she whispered, "Ethan?"

The look she gave him before running to her room made him realize his bloodied heart was too black to be offered.