The Highlander's Lady Knight (Midsummer Knights #2) - Madeline Martin Page 0,38

Isolde complied, but intentionally omitted his armor. After all, she did have need of it the following day. He could do whatever he liked with it when she was dead.

The thought was a sobering one, which recalled the severity of the situation she still faced.

“I do not know if I will live past tomorrow,” Isolde said with sincerity. “But I do truly wish to marry you.”

Cormac gave her a wide grin that put his dimple on full display. “Ye needn’t worry about fighting Edmund the Braw anymore. I’ll be fighting in your stead.” Before she could open her mouth, he put a finger to her lips to still her protest. “Ye’ll be my wife, and I protect what’s mine.”

Isolde shook her head. “Nay, I cannot allow you—”

“I will keep ye safe no matter the cost.” He leveled his stare to meet hers, his words brimming with conviction.

“I cannot lose you.” The words caught in her throat. “There must be another way.”

He pulled her more firmly against him, drawing her to the wall of his powerful body. She nestled into him and breathed in his wonderfully masculine scent.

“We will think on it more in the morning,” he said into her ear. “Come, let us find a priest and be wed before anyone can try to stop us.”

Giddiness rushed through Isolde as she took Cormac’s offered hand. “Come be our witness, Matilda,” she called out to her maid. “We are to be wed.”

If Matilda had any reservations about the abruptness of her mistress’s decision, they were well hidden in the beaming smile. Together, Isolde and Cormac ran like children toward the heart of the village, their hands enfolded in one another’s.

Surely, a priest could be found at such an hour.

In Isolde’s younger days, when she’d always done as she was supposed to, she had never been impulsive. Now, in the span of only four days, she had poisoned her brother, stolen his armor to wear as she pretended to be him, fought for her own honor and won, and was now agreeing to wed a man she’d known only days. But her choices were ones she had made, without anyone’s permission but her own. It had all been liberating and empowering.

They slowed to a walk as they came to the village and looked at each other with joyfully shared laughter while they waited for Matilda to join them.

“Promise me something,” Isolde said.

“Anything.” It was in the earnest manner he readily agreed as well as the adoration evident in his eyes that Isolde knew he meant it. She could ask him for the very moon at that moment, and he would ensure she had it in her hands anon.

“Promise me you’ll never fill my life with rules and that I may continue to train with my sword.” Her words came out breathless from the exertion of their sprint and the force of her own excitement.

He held her face between his large hands. “I promise.” His mouth pressed to hers.

Isolde tilted her chin to better enjoy the kiss. She had been simmering with lust throughout the day at the recollections of their last one, of how he had awoken within her a burning need. Her tongue teased over his lips and they parted to allow his tongue to stroke against hers.

A groan sounded in his throat and sent ripples of pleasure prickling over her skin. She curled her arms around the back of his neck and pressed as close to him as possible, deepening the kiss as they had done earlier that day.

He nudged her back against the nearby hut, pushing her into it with his body. Brodie had done similar, although he had been forceful in his efforts, and such attention had been unwelcome. With Cormac, she wanted to part her legs and feel the full force of his desire against her most intimate place.

“A priest,” he growled against her lips. “We need a priest.” He pushed off of her and held out his hand, his chest rising and falling with the quickening of his breath.

A glance back at the field surrounding the village confirmed Matilda was nearly to them.

Isolde’s fingers shook with anticipation as she set them to his palm and allowed him to lead her into the heart of the village. It was difficult to walk at a steady pace when such a bone-melting kiss had weakened her knees.

Procuring a priest amidst a tournament had seemed an easy enough task. However, it proved to be a difficult feat. One that appeared