Epilogue
Three weeks later
Iona
For the Friday and Saturday before my birthday Leith takes me to the Isle of Iona, which I’ve never been to.
We spend the whole two days hiking and making love inside and outside of our cozy cottage.
We visit the White Strand of the Monks, Iona’s Abbey and Nunnery, and St. Columba’s Bay.
Then we return and fuck on the plush sheepskin rug in front of the fireplace.
Lying naked in front of the fire, Leith looks like a Norse god, his lean muscles glowing.
“How are Heidi and Maisie working for you?” Two weeks ago Leith insisted I interview for two assistants to help me with my work.
“Och, they’re life-savers both. I don’t know how I managed before them.”
“Good.” He strokes my hair, lovelight shining in his eyes. “Did you finally catch up on all the DM’s?”
I laugh. “That, no. Maybe by twenty twenty-six.”
He reaches up to the sofa and pulls a box from under his jacket. “This is the gift you don’t want to open.”
My eyes widen. “What is it?”
“Leavy’s dick.”
My breath hitches, and I stare at the box for a long moment. “He’s dead?”
Leith holds up his phone. “I have pictures of every stage of his slow, month-long death. The last body part I flayed was his face. He didn’t survive more than a day after that.”
I clap a hand over my mouth, at once horrified and deeply at peace.
“I recorded videos of him writhing, bleeding, and screaming, for your viewing pleasure,” Leith adds.
I card my fingers through his thick mane. “Thank you, Leith. This means everything to me.”
A rueful smile lifts his lips. “But you’ve also taught me how to give gifts, Iona. This isn’t your real gift.”
As he drags a crate closer, I realize I did wonder why he’d brought that out of the car when we arrived.
I trace his strong jawline. “Leith, you give me so much every day. The choker, the dresses, this trip.” Yourself. “You don’t need to give me anything more.”
“Open it, wee Flame.” His tone is eager as he indicates the clasp on the left of the crate.
I unfasten the clasp, swing the top open, and suck in a breath. A stack of what look like first-edition Robert Louis Stevenson novels fills the inside. With shaky hands I slide out Treasure Island, opening to the title page and running my fingers over the 1883 publication date.
“It’s beautiful. They’re beautiful. You knew he was my favorite Scottish author?”
His smile widens. “I’ve read every post about the bookstagrammer that you’ve put up, going back years. You revealed that information in an early post.”
I’m more deeply moved by this insight than by the gift itself, which says a lot.
“Where did you find them?” I pull out a first edition of Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, my mouth watering at the gilt edges.
“Everywhere. The Kidnapped edition comes from Perth, Australia. The Black Arrow is from Atlanta, Georgia.”
My heart floods with love. “Thank you, Leith.”
“You like them?”
“I love them.” I pull out another. “It’s about time I re-read The Master of Ballantrae.”
He flips me onto my back, pinning me to the floor. “We’ll read it aloud together.”
“Och, could we? I’d love that.” Leith’s rich voice narrating the book is my idea of heaven.
Looking up at him, his sharp cheekbones outlined by the fire and his brilliant, slate-grey eyes blazing with possessiveness, I’m more smitten than ever. Just when I think I can’t love Leith any more, my heart bursts with a new flowering of passion.
“We’ll start now, wee wife.” He drops kisses on my clavicle, neck, and earlobe.
“Like this?” I laugh as he flips the book open to the first page.
“Just like this.”
* * *
Leith’s arms are so full of the crate and our bags that it’s up to me to the front door of our home the next afternoon.
“SUR-PRIIISE!” A host of voices choruses.
I jump back, resting a hand on my heart.
Everyone is here. I pan my shocked gaze over Maw, Lowden, Skye, Lachlan, Declan, Màiri, Darian, Sorcha, Diran, Nandag, Callum, Eiluned, Nairna, her boyfriend Eamonn, Chance, Isolde, Malcolm, Moyra, Zander, Reyne, Tess, Fraser, Grizel, Grizel’s boyfriend Harris, and several editors at Horizons Press whom I’m fond of.
Their love swells the room, making it even more cavernous than it was.
“Happy birthday, darling!” Maw calls out.
I tear up, turning to look at Leith, who smiles quietly, registering my reaction. I fling my arms around him, squeezing him tight. “Thank you.”
A chuckle rolls through his chest beneath my cheek. “Surprises are our theme, Flame. I wanted to be consistent.” He addresses the crowd. “We’ve set up a few bars out back behind the pool. I hope you’ll all join us.”
The garden is magical, even at this early hour.
Garlands of delphiniums and roses hang about the periphery, punctuated by a sunflower here and there.
Fire pits crackle merrily at intervals, and a jazz quintet plays standards on a small stage in the corner.
Leith has gone all out, placing three bars out here.
He’s had torches set up not far from the pool, hinting that the evening party will involve swimming.
Utterly enchanted, I remain glued to my husband’s side. “I can’t believe you organized all this.”
“I had Amanda, Elsa, and Draven’s help,” he demurs.
The next hour is a happy blur as my loved ones wish me happy birthday, toast me, and treat me to stories of their summer adventures.
Skye and Lachlan have come back bronzed from Greece, Malcolm and Moyra went to Prague and Hungary, and Reyne and Zander have spent the summer in the Highlands building our Girls’ Retreat, as it’s now officially called.
Chance and Isolde bear gifts from Portugal and Galicia, and even Maw and Lowden went on a proper honeymoon to Italy.
Pictures abound, exaggeration flourishes, and laughter rolls through our merry group.
Skye tosses me an insider’s wink as I sip my cranberry and sparkling water. She’s drinking the same. Her look says, We have a lot of catching up to do. I look forward to being preggers in tandem.
“We’re going on a proper honeymoon too.” Leith tightens his arm around my waist as he tips back a glass of sangria.
“We are?” I tilt my head in surprise.
“To Cuba.”
“Really?” I’m so elated I lift off the ground. “How?”
“In Diran’s private jet.”
“I mean, don’t you have to work?”
He crooks a smile. “I could retire today.” I give his ribs a light jab for this joke. Leith will likely never retire, and I admire him for that. “But I’ll wrap up this new case just before we leave.”
“When are we going?”
“In two weeks.”
I feign offense, pulling away from him. “Thanks for letting me know.”
By now, everyone has started talking amongst themselves, and we’re no longer noticed.
Leith wraps his fingers around my neck and brings my ear to his lips. I shiver at the possessive power in his words. “You’ll always fulfill your wifely duties for me, wee Flame.”
It’s true. There’s no point in pretending. I’m his, lock, stock, and barrel.
“I’ll show you no mercy, just because you’re carrying my child.
” His words are dark, twisted, and arousing.
His thumb brushes the skin behind my ear, back and forth, full of seduction, and his scent winds me up to a fever pitch.
“If you’re mine, you’re in for a rough ride, wee Scheherazade. Are you?”
“Aye,” I murmur drunkenly, though I’ve not had a drop to drink.
“Good girl.” He seals our lips in a searing kiss.
And with each lash of his tongue I’m more ready for the worst he can bring.
After all, we’ve been through a chapter or two already.
THE END