Love Came Just in Time by Lynn Kurland Page B

her head, with an amused smile. “You aren’t. Garretts generally do it right after the ceremony. It comes from having to wait.”
    â€œI see—” Miles trailed off. Abby had stepped up to him and put her arms around him. What was she about?
    â€œDon’t worry,” she whispered, still smiling. “I’m just going to lay one on you.”
    He realized, belatedly, that he wasn’t prepared for her actions. He and Abigail had kissed often enough, but this kiss rocked him to the core. Perhaps it was because he knew it could definitely lead to other things. Miles threw his arms around her and held on.
    Too soon, she allowed him to breathe. He blinked.
    â€œI think,” he managed, “I would like to have another of those laid on me.”
    She obliged him. Miles clung to her and hoped he wouldn’t embarrass himself by having his knees buckle under him.
    He’d planned to give her a goodly while to accustom herself fully to him, perhaps even a few days, but if she didn’t stop kissing him thusly, he sincerely doubted he would be able to do much but hold onto the ragged edges of his wits. And, after all, Garretts did seem to have a schedule about these things. If Abigail wanted him now, who was he to say her nay?
    He tore his mouth away. “I’m going to fall down soon, I think. Perhaps we could retire to the bed and go with the flow for a time.”
    Abigail laughed. “What is your family going to think when they hear you talking like a twentieth-century guy?”
    â€œThey’ll think I’ve gone daft,” he said, leading her to his bed and lying down beside her. “You should have seen the look the abbot cast my way at Seakirk when I told him to get the lead out.”
    â€œAnd where is the friar in question?”
    â€œIn the little room above the gatehouse,” he said. He buried his hands in her hair and turned her face to his. He smiled. He’d been itching to get his hands in her hair for what seemed like years.
    â€œIs he just a junior priest, then?” she asked.
    â€œNay. He’s a powerful abbot.”
    She choked. “I see your nefarious reputation has its advantages.”
    He grinned at her. “Are you sorry you wed with such a one as I?”
    â€œNo, Dastardly Dan, I’m not,” she said, tugging on his ear. “Come here and kiss me, you bad man.”
    How could he refuse? He kissed her as she wished, then he kissed her as he wished. Then he wished for less clothing between them.
    â€œOh, my,” she said, when his hand trailed over her increasingly bare flesh.
    â€œIndeed,” he said with a shiver, as her cold fingers wandered over his chest. He would have to build better fireplaces. Perhaps he would raze the bloody keep to the ground and start over again. Abigail’s hands found the warmth of his back and he yelped. Aye, more heat was surely a necessity he would see to as soon as possible.
    When tunics had been discarded, he pulled her close to him and relished the feel of her bare skin against his.
    â€œOh, Abby,” he whispered, closing his mouth over hers.
    She was trembling. He hoped it was from passion and not fear. He knew it couldn’t be from the cold. He was hotter than if he’d been standing in the midst of a pile of kindling.
    He kissed and caressed her until both their breaths were coming in gasps. Then Abigail tore her mouth from his.
    â€œDid you hear something?”
    â€œNay,” he said, trying to recapture her mouth.
    â€œIt’s a thumping noise, Miles.”
    â€œThat’s the blood pounding in your ears. ’Tis passion, Abby.”
    She eluded his lips. “Those are fists pounding on your gates, bucko. It isn’t passion, it’s company.”
    Miles lifted his head and frowned. “Damn.”
    Abigail froze. “Bad guys?”
    Miles looked down at her grimly. “Knocking? Doubtful, my love. Enemies generally prefer a