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Page 3


  He looked at me and frowned. "I don't understand. Who's been teaching you Scottish? What kind of butchered Gaelic is that?"

  "It's not Scottish." I snuggled into him. "It's Cornish. Which is Gaelic, too, just more like Welsh."

  His eyebrows rose. "What does it mean? Get your weight off me, you douche?"

  "Yes, that exactly," I said. "Depending on intonation." I was very sleepy again. "Or I love you. That's the more common meaning."

  "And do you?" he said.

  "More than I should." I closed my eyes.

  "You could never love me more than you should." He pulled a sheet over us. "You could never love me more than I love you, either."

  Chapter 3

  Blair

  The guys were in a jovial, conspiratorial mood as we rode one of the luxury sports tender boats from the yacht to the Haven, the bay and beach beneath Tintagel Castle, the location of the mystical Merlin's Cave. When the tide was out twice a day, you could explore the caves. It was a popular place with families for wading and exploring. The tide was coming in now. High tide would be in just a few hours.

  The day was clear blue and already warming nicely. The seas calm. The breeze, tinged with sea mist, felt fine and refreshing on my face and whipped my hair as the boat flew soundlessly over the water. The castle perched on an island outcropping overlooking the water and was accessible by a footbridge from the mainland. As it came into view, my heart raced.

  Austin sat beside me with his arm around me. He squeezed me and smiled, his delighted, eager expression mirroring mine. I snuggled into him. Even though the day was warming, it was cool on the water. At his encouragement, I was wearing one of my light sundresses, another of his favorites. Ordinarily, I would have worn shorts and a sweatshirt, but who was I to mess with the special day he had planned?

  The atmosphere surrounding the castle would have been more mysterious and Arthurian if it had been foggy. Or we'd had marine air, as we called it in Seattle. But I'd rather have the fine August weather, the gorgeous view of the Cornish coast, and the castle ruins over marine air any day.

  Yes, Tintagel was, sadly, just ruins. The castle had only stood a hundred years or so before the family who built it began neglecting it and it fell rapidly into ruins. The castle had never been built for any important purpose, like defense, anyway. So why pay much attention to it or spend valuable family funds to maintain it?

  Tintagel had been built in the 1230s by the Earl of Cornwall to play homage to the Arthurian myth. A castle built on fancy cannot stand long, evidently. But it can remain a tourist attraction for nearly eight hundred years. Richard, Earl of Cornwall, would be proud.

  As for myself, the silent approach by water made me feel something like Uther Pendragon, King Arthur's father, sneaking in. Not that I had any intention of sleeping with an enemy's spouse. I'd had enough of nearly sleeping with the enemy when my memory had failed me. My plans were much less nefarious—a fun outing with my guy and his friends.

  What must it have felt like to be enchanted to look like your enemy? Had being in his enemy Gorlois' form corrupted Uther? One could argue his lust for Igraine had already corrupted him. It had certainly gotten the better of him. Off he went to sleep with Gorlois' wife while his troops defeated Gorlois and killed him. But shouldn't a king like Pendragon be leading his own troops into battle? Staying home from battle and sleeping with a soldier's wife had gotten many a better king into trouble.

  But who was I to argue? That was how the Arthurian legend went—Uther Pendragon, the "chief dragon," father of Arthur, lusted for Lady Igraine, the wife of his enemy. So he had Merlin the magician enchant him to look like Gorlois and had sex with Gorlois' wife, conceiving Arthur. And now, honoring Merlin's part in this mischief, his image had been carved into the cliffs below Tintagel Castle, near the cave attributed to Merlin.

  The carving, like so much about Tintagel, was controversial. Many Cornish believed it was nothing more than vandalism. But if it was, it was no more so than the castle, which had been built on the wild cliffs based on myth as well.

  The guys sitting around me were dressed casually in shorts and T-shirts. Even Lazer. But Austin wore a kilt and sporran, which he kept close, as if worried he might lose it. It was a fine black leather bag, to be sure. But the way he protected it made me wonder.

  A guide and photographer waited for us on the narrow strip of beach that was receding as the tide came into the bay.

  My heart raced, goaded by panic. My hand flew to my throat. "We're being ambushed." I tried to sound jokey as I pointed to the photographer. Remembering the scene at Fowey, my mouth went dry. I had to fight hard to tamp my anger and fears down. Austin couldn't have betrayed me for publicity too, could he?

  Austin took my hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "No ambush. I promise. I hired the guide and photographer to capture our adventure here at Tintagel. But just for our use. Our vacation photos. So you can always remember your dream day at Tintagel and show it to Beth later."

  "Oh." Okay, chalk one up to overreacting. I blinked back tears and kissed him swiftly and urgently. "I love you." How totally different he was from Nigel.

  As we hit shallow water, Dylan and Jeremy jumped from the boat. Austin splashed out and carried me to shore as the camera captured our arrival.

  With my arms looped around Austin's neck, I looked at the cave longingly and then down at my dress. "I'm not really dressed for spelunking." At least I wore cute canvas shoes and not sandals.

  "Never mind that. Right now, you'd need a bikini. With the tide coming in, it will be full of water soon. We'll get to the caves later. If we have time. Come on. We'd better hurry if we want to enjoy our private time at the castle."

  It was a long climb up the cliffs to the castle. And, once at the top, a lot of stairs and paths and a bridge over a deep chasm to get from the mainland to the castle island. Our guide and the cameraman introduced themselves. As I was contemplating the climb, and whether I had the strength to make it so soon after my accident, a small helicopter appeared on the horizon.

  Austin grinned. "Your carriage approaches, milady."

  The helicopter landed on a wide spot of beach. Austin helped me in. The photographer climbed in after us. The pilot gave us instructions to buckle in, and we were off on an aerial tour of Tintagel.

  The roar of the blades cut the air, making enough noise to make being heard all but impossible. Austin took my hand and squeezed it. I smiled, kissed him, and sat back to enjoy the ride. The pilot flew us along the coast, past the cave entrance, past the carving of Merlin, past the statue of Arthur, and around the castle. Above it. All around it.

  I beamed at Austin. He beamed back. I could truthfully say I'd never imagined having a helicopter tour of Camelot. Or the thrill of it. The Cornish coastline was ruggedly beautiful, and highlighted particularly well by the sunny weather. The tiny, lightweight helicopter maneuvered around, banking and giving us a thrilling ride and view.

  Our photographer had brought a video camera too, and filmed the scenery for us, as well as snapping pictures of us for our scrapbook. I couldn't help myself—I hammed it up. For once grateful to be caught on camera, I caught Austin's face, motioned to the photographer to grab the shot, and kissed Austin enthusiastically. I hoped our photographer had pried himself away from the view long enough to capture the loving looks Austin was giving me—and my returning adoring gazes. When I was old and gray, I wanted to be able to dig out this video and relive the rush of love and passion I felt for Austin. To experience the magic of the moment again and again.

  I expected the helicopter to return us to the parking lot. After all, this was a National Trust site. It had to be carefully preserved. Instead, the helicopter hovered just above the lawn near some ruins on the main island.

  Austin jumped out and held his arms out to catch me. I leaned into them, laughing. He caught me by the waist as the breeze from the helicopter blades ruffled my skirt. His hands were hot and possessive as he grinned up at me, and I fought to k
eep my skirt from flying up around my hips. I licked my lips. My breath caught.

  Austin's eyes were round and dark, as if he was as excited as I was. His lips were a lovely, enticing ripe red.

  "Why is it that your skirt never flies up?" I wrapped my arms around his neck as he set me on the ground.

  "Kilts," he corrected, with a tease in his voice, "are made of heavy material to protect a Scot's dignity."

  I laughed again. My joy just kept bubbling up. "Is that so? Someone needs to talk to women's dress designers about dignity, apparently."

  He shook his head. "Absolutely not. Here. Let me help you protect yours." His hands slid down and cupped my butt, hot through the thin fabric of my dress as he held it down against the breeze.

  "Protector of dignity! My hero." I snuggled against Austin and wrapped my arms around him. I could never get enough of looking at him. How was it that he made me so happy? I pressed my lips together and tilted my head to encourage a kiss. I couldn't get enough of being near him again. At that moment, I thought that if we lived forever, I'd never stop longing for his touch and his kiss.

  Never one to need much encouragement, as I closed my eyes, he leaned in to take the kiss I offered. And managed it expertly—just the right firm, but gently enticing, pressure. Moist lips that parted at just the right time and made me melt in his arms. Austin paid particular attention to how I liked to be kissed. He didn't go overboard with the tongue. He tasted, as he always did, fresh. I only had to be near him, to look at him, to want him desperately.

  The cameraman disembarked and the helicopter flew off. I finally opened my eyes when the breeze from the helicopter stopped. "Do you think our intrepid camera guy got that epic kiss on video?"

  "Should we ask him and see? I'd be happy to repeat it." He leaned in to me again, tilting his head.

  I gave him a quick peck for his trouble. "Beth will blush when she sees it."

  "I think you underestimate her. She'll swoon and cheer."

  "You and Beth!" I shook my head and looked around, catching my breath from the excitement.

  We were standing on the bluff of the cliffs at the entrance to the ruins of one of the outbuildings of the castle. Birds flitted around us, singing. The Atlantic Ocean sparkled below.

  I couldn't imagine a more breathtaking view. "Where have the guys gone to, do you think?"

  My gaze landed on the site marker of the building ruins. Chapel. A florist's box sat on the crumbling remains of a wall nearby. Red roses and rose petals were strewn inside the roofless stone chapel. All that remained of the building were the remains of the exterior walls and gorgeous views. A round table set with sparkling crystal, a silver food warmer, a white picnic hamper, and a cooler sat at the far end of the room. A drone appeared and hovered nearby.

  Austin pulled a coronet of flowers from the box, complete with trailing ribbons that matched my dress. "For you, Blair, my princess. May I?"

  I bowed my head forward so he could place it on my head. "When in Camelot…" I raised an eyebrow and smiled, feeling my heart well with emotion. And my hopes soar. Hopefully not too high. But I thought… I hoped…

  Before I could thank him, he handed me a matching bouquet. Three knights and a squire in chainmail appeared from behind the building. The squire, who was definitely Lazer, carried a ceremonial sword in a scabbard that looked—very intentionally, I was sure—like one imagined Excalibur, and glistened beautifully in the sun. He held it out to Austin.

  I laughed. "Playing Lady of the Lake, are you now?" I winked at Lazer.

  "Hardly," he said.

  Austin took the sword and scabbard and put them on. He took my hand, squeezed it tightly, and led me into the chapel with the "knights" following. Dylan and Cam stood guard at the chapel entrance, swords crossed. Jeremy and Lazer came up on either side of Austin and walked with us to the center of the chapel.

  Austin went down on one knee on a bed of rose petals in front of what must have once been the altar and took my hand. He took a deep breath.

  I smiled encouragement at him, but I was trembling.

  "Dr. Blair Edwards, I love you beyond reason, beyond measure, beyond anything sane." His usually warm hands had gone cold. The poor guy was nervous, which was endearingly sweet. "When we're apart, all I can think of is you. I love you with all of my being, with everything I am."

  My pulse raced. My hand, also cold with nerves, trembled in his. Our gazes held, but my eyes were fast filling with tears of happiness.

  He released my hand, pulled his sword from its sheath, balanced it on his palms, and held it, gleaming in the August sunlight, out to me. "I relinquish my heart and my sword to you. And lay them at your feet."

  A little drone buzzed above us, the modern touch to this ancient site.

  Austin set the sword, which was engraved with entwined hearts and our initials, at my feet. "Blair, will you marry me and be my lady, my Southron, my wife?"

  I stared at him, at the guys, at the sword, and trembled with happiness and surprise. How could any woman say no to a man like Austin with his heart in his eyes?

  And yet I hesitated. Not because I had any doubts that I loved him madly and wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. It was…well…he hadn't mentioned the pregnancy. And yes, there really hadn't been a good time to bring it up. But I would have thought, if he'd known about it, he would have made some mention. Showed some deference for a pregnant woman. Been protective. Told me to get my rest for the baby's sake. Even now, he hadn't offered marriage to "make me an honest woman."

  And so I was led to believe he hadn't known about it. Didn't know about it. And, to be honest, the pregnancy had been in such early stages that it didn't seem real even to me. It hadn't seemed to matter. Until now. I'd meant to tell him the miscarriage. At the right time.

  Now it felt like there was a secret between us. Like it was something he should know about before I agreed to marry him. But how could I bring it up at a beautiful moment like this? With all the guys watching?

  No, it wasn't the time. I'd tell him, of course, before the wedding. The moment had stretched too long. I didn't want him to think I had any doubts or indecision.

  Choked with emotion, I finally managed to nod. "Yes." I wiped tears from my eyes with the back of my hand. "Yes! Austin MacDougall, I accept you as mine."

  His smile spread across his face. He jumped to his feet and pulled me into his arms and into a kiss. "I love you, Blair. I love you."

  "I love you too." I held him tight.

  The guys broke into a cheer and some kind of chant that I thought was supposed to be a medieval blessing. It sounded suspiciously like broken Cornish.

  I buried my face in Austin's chest and hugged him as tightly as I could. Finally, I let him go. He bent down and retrieved and sheathed his sword.

  Lazer slapped him on the back and congratulated him. Then he hugged me and kissed me on the cheek. The guys crowded around and took their turns congratulating us, razzing Austin, and hugging me.

  Lazer pointed to Austin's sporran and cleared his throat.

  Austin nodded and looked sheepish. "Oh, right. I knew something was missing." He took my hand again and pulled a ring box from his sporran. "I almost forgot." He popped the box open to reveal an engagement ring.

  "It's beautiful." I held my hand out for him to slip it on my finger. "Is this the one I picked out in Seattle? The one I hinted about?"

  "You remember!" His eyes lit up. He looked supremely pleased with himself at my reaction.

  "Of course I remember." I shook my head. "You're all going to have to stop being so surprised that I can recall things again. And stop giving me props for it."

  "Cut us a break, Blair," Cam said. "You gave us all a scare."

  I nodded. "I'm sorry about that." I admired the glittering diamond ring on my finger, blinking back tears again. I looked around at the guys. "So this is what you were up to?"

  They looked sheepish, but pleased with themselves.

  "I thought it would be in S
cotland." I turned to Austin. "I thought… I hoped you'd propose this trip. And I thought it would be in Scotland."

  He nodded. "That was the original plan." He scowled. "Until Nigel kidnapped you. I decided then and there I wasn't going to waste another minute. I was going to propose to you as soon as I could do it properly."

  "And you certainly did! You must have planned all this on the fly."

  "I planned it while I was the guest of the US government," he said. "But we implemented it on less than eighteen hours' notice."

  "I'll say one thing for you." I took his hand. "You were right. I had no doubt I was being proposed to. And in a chapel, no less. Which means before God."

  He grinned and tugged at the luckenbooth brooch I wore. "You do know this brooch was already a promise of sorts?"

  I laughed. "You do know that if this were really medieval times, we'd already be married?"

  He frowned, puzzled.

  "The words—I accept you as mine. They're all you had to say to be legally married back then. Preferably before witnesses." I glanced pointedly around at the men.

  "I accept you as mine," he repeated to me. "If only it were that easy." He kissed me again. "I intend to marry you as soon as I can. I'm not taking any more chances of you slipping away. And forgetting me again." He paused and got a teasing look on his face. "Does that phrase cover prenups, too?"

  "Prenups?" I said.

  "You should have married me before we sold our app. I'm a wealthy man now. I have my fortune to protect."

  "I'll sign anything you want," I teased. "As long as I get a fair share." I pulled him close. "But hear this—I'm not going anywhere. Once you marry me, you're stuck with me for life."

  "That's exactly what I intend," he whispered back.

  Dylan caught Austin's arm. "Stop flirting and let's eat. This is supposed to be an engagement celebration."

  Jeremy peered around him. "Where's the champagne?"

  "No champagne," Austin said. "And more importantly—no ale, my hearty fellows and lady. No alcohol in the park. We'll toast with real booze later on the yacht."

 

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