“Call me a modern girl, but I’m not paying more than a dozen sheep for you.”

He laughed against her skin, then halted and cocked his head, looking at her carefully. Despite the mischievous look in her eye, there was a resolute confidence, as well.

“You’re sure of this.” It wasn’t a question.

“I am. Getting cold feet now?”

He pulled away and looked at her. She was laid out before him like a gift. She was a gift. A heart created to love him. A mind to match his own. A body made to be worshiped. And a soul burned, but never destroyed. The fires that had touched her life had only refined her, molding her into the woman she had become. Strong. Loving. Courageous in ways that he could only imagine.

His mate.

Carwyn sat up straight and slowly pulled his shirt over his head, baring his scarred chest to her. Brigid’s eyes raked over his bare torso, and a possessive gleam lit in them. Carwyn pulled her up to her knees and placed her palm over the faint scar that still marked his skin. He swallowed the lump in his throat before he spoke hoarsely. “Brigid Connor, will you take me as your husband before God? For the rest of our days on this earth, will you love me and remain faithful to me?”

Her eyes filled with tears when she heard the words. She leaned forward, touching her forehead to his as she said, “Before God, you are my husband. You and no other.”

Had his heart ever beat like this before? His amnis reached out to hers. Heat against heat that wove them together as surely as their vows. He touched the face of the extraordinary creature who had claimed him, and returned, “Before God, you are my wife. You and no other.”

Their lips met in a single kiss before he drew away. “Is it enough?” he whispered.

“Is it enough for you?”

He nodded. “More than enough.”

She gave him a crooked grin. “Just make sure you follow through on the horse.”

Carwyn burst into laughter, and Brigid threw her arms around him, tackling him to the bed, which creaked at the motion.

“Brigid,” he said as she tore at the buttons on his jeans. “I believe—oh, that’s good—I am going to buy you a new bed for a wedding present.”

“What—oh!” He nipped at her collar, reached up, and tore the shirt she’d been wearing down the middle with his hands. He tossed it to the side as he stared at her smooth, bare skin. “What’s wrong with this bed?” she asked.

He quickly rid her of the scrap of lace she called an undergarment before his mouth latched onto her small breast. She gasped, and his eyes closed in rapture. Her skin was silk under his tongue. He lifted his mouth for a moment and smiled. “Sadly, my wife, this bed is not long for this world. And you taste like heaven.”

“We’ll give it a—yes, more—proper burial, then.” She hooked his pants with her toes and shoved them over his hips.

“Such a talented—oh, right there—woman you are.” Her body was a revelation. So many sweet curves and corners to explore. It would take years to learn her.

“I’ll return the compliment. And that’s… impressive.”

“I’m not going to say ‘I told you so.’ Just let me know if there are any pieces of furniture you’re fond of.” He braced his foot on the end of the bed and heard it give a solid ‘crack’ under the pressure as his body surged toward hers and he ripped the last of her clothing away.

She pulled him over her. “Wicked…” She let her fangs trail along the edge of his jaw. “Wicked man. Destroying the furniture like that.”

He stilled, everything coming into focus in that instant. Brigid under him. Bodies pressed together and amnis entwined. Her scent and heat were a drug to his senses, but he stilled. “No, Brigid. Not wicked,” he whispered. “Pure. I was made to love you like this.”

“Carwyn—”

He stopped her mouth with his, murmuring sweet words as her body cradled him. “‘You have ravished my heart, my bride, with one look of your eyes…’”

“I’m… I’m hot,” she whispered. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Shh,” he dipped down to her burning lips. “You would never.”

The fire that churned beneath her skin was building, almost startling in its intensity. Carwyn could see the air around her shimmer, and suddenly, he knew how to calm her. It was all so clear. He reached out and his amnis wrapped around her as he gently coaxed the heat away, drawing it into his own body as her flesh welcomed his and she cried out. He slid within her, staring into her eyes as they widened in surprise and joy.

Body. Heart. Soul. Together.

Brigid smiled and touched his cheek. “And the two will become one.”

Carwyn rocked in her, leaning down to taste her lips. He whispered, “‘Behold, you are fair, my love… your lips are like a strand of scarlet, and your mouth…’” He pressed another kiss to her lips as she gasped his name. “‘Your mouth is lovely.’”

His right arm slid under her shoulders as he braced himself and felt the bed crack again. Brigid’s eyes were glazed over as he made love to her, her body a shivering mass of coiled heat, waiting to release. He held her on the edge, slowly and thoroughly acquainting himself with the feel of his body and hers together. He clenched onto every ounce of control he owned so he could savor their union.

It had been so very long.

“What are you doing to me?” Her voice was a high keen and she clutched his neck, holding him so tightly he knew he would have brands in the morning. The thought only made him smile in sensual greed. Let her mark him. He eyed the curve of her neck, a thousand years of self-restraint falling away. He bared his fangs, bent down to her skin, and let them scratch slowly up from her collarbone.