“But I already know that.” She shook her head again. “Mary is right, it is a guy thing.

But Robbie, women think differently. We don’t need a huge confrontation or some defining moment to tell us we’re over our problem. We only have to let it go in our own minds.”

“Then why didn’t you do that three years ago, when you divorced him?”

“Because I was still thinking like a victim. And when I came here and met you, and even after visiting Scotland, it was easier just to go along with your idea to confront Ron because I knew you would protect me.” She looked down at their clasped hands. “That’s the problem with falling in love with guardian angels,” she whispered. “It becomes too easy to let them take over.”

Still holding her hands in his, he lifted her chin with his knuckles and smiled. “It’s even easier for us guardians to take charge, because that’s how we think.” He leaned over and gently kissed her sweet lips, then pulled away only slightly. “I’m sorry, little Cat, for nearly taking away your power instead of helping you find it. That was the last thing I wanted to do.”

The moment he freed her hands, she wrapped them around his waist and hugged him.

“So, now we’re married in all times,” she said, her lips caressing his chest where she’d unbuttoned his shirt. “Does that mean we can finally start the honeymoon?”

“Aye,” he growled, lifting her off the counter and carrying her to the bed.

She jumped up the moment he set her down. “We have to light the candles,” she said, racing to the table and picking up the box of matches. She stopped, looked from the matches to him, and tossed them back on the table. “You light them, husband, with your magic.”

He walked over, took her hand in his, and held it to the candle on the table. “All you have to do is wish for the energy to show itself,” he told her, touching their fingers to one of the wicks, then pulling it away once the flame appeared.

She gasped and looked up at him.

He moved their hands to the next wick and repeated the magic, then moved to the third, releasing her fingers. “Just ask, Catherine,” he whispered. “See the flame in your mind first, and expect it to appear, and it will.”

“But I can’t do magic,” she said, despite holding her finger to the last wick.

“But youare the magic, little Cat,” he whispered, smiling as she tried to all but glare the wick into lighting. He took hold of her shoulders and added his own will, catching her when the wick suddenly burst into flame.

“You did that!” she said with a laugh, turning and wrapping her arms around him.

He kissed her deeply and quite thoroughly, then lifted her off her feet and carried her back to the bed. He set her on the quilt and stared down at her.

Again she got up but knelt on the mattress, pulled his shirt from his pants, and pushed it off his shoulders.

He unknotted the shawl she’d brought from Scotland.

She unbuckled his belt.

His wife had him half undressed before he could even get her blouse unbuttoned.

She pushed his hands away and stepped off the bed, facing him as she slowly undid her own buttons, looking up with the smile of a woman who knew exactly what she wanted.

And damn if Robbie didn’t feel his toes start to curl as she slid her blouse off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor, revealing a lace bra that lovingly cupped her plump breasts, her two beautiful pink nipples straining against the satin material.

Completely forgetting his own need to get undressed, Robbie reached out and ran a trembling finger across the top of the thin lace, marveling at the contrast of his large, dark hand against her pale skin.

She was so delicate. So utterly feminine. So… his.

The candle on the windowsill above the bed burst into flame, reflecting in Catherine’s shining eyes as she unfastened her skirt and let it slide to the floor, revealing matching panties that were more lace than material. She stood in the pool of her clothes, her eyes dancing with blossoming excitement. Robbie tucked his hands behind his back and balled his fists in an attempt to control his own volatile energy.

A second candle on the windowsill flared to life.

“You have the most beautiful body,” she whispered, sliding down the zipper of his pants with maddening slowness.

Another candle—this one clear across the room on the counter—flared to life.

“You’ve done nothing but tease me with your body since I met you,” she continued, her voice husky as his pants fell to his own feet. She looked up at him, her womanly smile widening. “And now you’re all mine,” she whispered, walking her delicate fingers up his stomach, sending ripples of desire quivering through him.

She covered his chest with both hands, lightly feathering her fingers through his chest hair, and leaned forward and kissed one of his nipples.

The candle on the bedside table flared like a blow torch before settling into a gentle flame.

“Touch me, husband,” she whispered, pulling his mouth down to hers as she pressed against him. “Set me on fire.”

As difficult as it was, since his toes were curled so tightly, Robbie finally scuffed off his shoes, wrapped his arms around her, and stepped out of his pants. He lifted Catherine out of her own discarded wardrobe and carried her to the bed, setting her on the quilt and quickly lying beside her before she could jump up again.

Not that she tried. She rolled toward him, entwined her arms around his neck, and kissed him with the eagerness of a bride about to share her greatest gift with her husband.

Robbie kissed her with the eagerness of a bridegroom about to explode.

One by one, the candles scattered around the cabin began to flicker to life as their wedding bed heated with an energy unlike anything Robbie had ever experienced.

She was so tiny and delicate yet so trusting and suddenly bold. Her hands were all over him, caressing, exploring, exciting him until he could barely stand it.

He didn’t know how it happened, being so busy reeling with sensation after sensation, but his bride was suddenly sitting astraddle his hips, her fingers kneading his chest and her moist, puffed lips curved into a smile.

“Am I going too fast?” she asked, looking not the least bit worried that she might be.

He took hold of her hips, stilling her movement. “Aye, I’m thinking ya are, lass. If we don’t slow down, this whole place will go up in flames.”

She blinked in confusion, looked around the cabin, then shot him a glorious smile. “Did you do that?”

“Nay, little Cat, you did.”

Her lovely chest puffed up until her breasts all but spilled from her bra. Robbie reached up and covered them with his hands, feeling her nipples pushing into his palms through the lace. She reached behind her back, undid the clasp of her bra, and slid the straps off her shoulders until only his hands were holding it in place. He let the bra drop down to his own chest and quickly returned his hands to her naked breasts. She threw her head back with a moan of pleasure, placed her hands over his, and moved her hips along the length of his shaft.

Robbie could no longer stand the sweet torture. He rolled until she lay beside him and spanned one hand across her chest to keep her in place while he propped his head on his other hand so he could stare down at her.

Satisfied that she’d stay put, though unable to still her restless movements, Robbie leaned over to kiss her—but shouted instead when she wrapped her strong, delicate fingers around his shaft. “Nay,” he growled, quickly trapping both her hands over her head. “You’ve had weeks to explore my body, little Cat. Now it’s my turn to become acquainted with yours.”

“But I haven’t exploredall of you,” she countered, sticking out her lower lip.

“Aye,” he said with a chuckle, kissing her pout and then letting his mouth trail down her chin to her neck. “But ya needn’t worry,” he whispered at the base of her throat. “We won’t leave this bed until ya have.”