Beautiful in My Eyes (5 page)

BOOK: Beautiful in My Eyes
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“So, it was all a dream,” I said, smiling.

“Maybe,” he said, a slight smile playing on his lips.

With all the detail with which he told the story, I might have actually believed him, if I hadn’t known better. “Well, even if it was a dream, it was a good story.”

“Aye. Ye ken, I never eve' told ma
faither
tha
' story.”

“Really? Then I feel very special that you shared it with me.”

“Ye
are
special,” he said, kissing me. “The most special person in the world ta me. An'
wha
' made the experience eve' more special was the fact
tha
' it happened o St. Patrick’s Day.” He grinned and winked.

I chuckled. “Now that’s classic.”

“Ye
cannae
tell anyone. If it got
oot
tha
' I was
dreamin
' o the wee green guy, the Scots would run me
oot
on a rail.”

“All right, I promise not to tell a soul.” In return for my promise,
he gifted me with a kiss so full of passion
,
it left me weak
. I definitely had sweet dreams that night.

The next day, after spending an hour at Loch Ness, hoping in vain to get a photo of the famous
Nessie
, Julian took me to see the Sir William Wallace monument. Standing in front of the imposing structure, wrapped in Julian's arms, I was awe-struck.

I relaxed against him. “I wonder what he was really like?”

“Good man an' a great
warrior,
but complicated. Did ye see
Braveheart
?”

“Yes, I loved that movie.”

“Nice movie, but no completely accurate. Then again, movies seldom are.”

“True, but hey, it's Mel Gibson! Seeing that man in a kilt is the stuff of dreams.”


Dreamin
' o Mel Gibson, are ye?” he growled against my ear.

“Yeah, but that was before you. I'm sure you look a thousand times better in a kilt.”

“A thousand? Ye thin' so?”

“Definitely. But getting back to the movie, you
gotta
admit the love story about him and his probably-fictitious wife makes good Hollywood romance.”

Julian laughed. “
Och
, aye.
Yer
right
aboot
tha
'. Which is why I wanted ta bring ye here . . . ta propose ta ye in front o Scotland's greatest warrior.”

“What?” I whispered, turning around. He knelt and my emotions bubbled to the surface, accompanied by tears.

“I ken I'm no a knight, but I promise ta be as
faithful  an'
honorable as a knight, ta love an' treasure ye with all
tha
' I am, if ye will be ma wife.” He pulled a small box from his pocket and opened it, revealing a ring–a single solitaire surrounded by tiny emeralds and set on a white gold band.

“Will ye marry me,
darlin
'? I love ye with all ma heart an' I
hav
' ta make ye mine.”

I was so overcome with emotion
,
I couldn't speak
. With tears splashing down my cheeks, I nodded. He smiled and placed the ring on my finger, and then he stood and took me in his arms.

 

After taking me to Edinburgh to meet his parents and his brother and sister, Julian moved to the states and we were married two months later. We went back to Scotland for our honeymoon and had a traditional Scottish wedding ceremony
for his family. I got to see Julian in a wedding kilt twice, and he was definitely a million times sexier than Mel.

Since then, our love for each other has increased with each passing day. Sure, there will always be obstacles to overcome, but we are both determined to do any and everything we can to insure that our love will stay strong enough to withstand anything.

Even hair loss?

My thoughts return to the present as I pull into the driveway. I say a quick prayer for Libby and John before going into the house. Julian is standing at the kitchen counter buttering a piece of bread.

“How was
yer
visit?”

I walk over to him and wrap my arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.


Wha's
this for?” he asks, his deep voice soft.

“I’m just so happy to be your wife.”

His embrace tightens. “An' I’m glad ta be
yer
husband.” He draws back a little, looking into my eyes. “Did
somethin
' happen?”

I take his hand and we move to the table. While Julian eats, I tell him about Libby and John.  The news takes him by surprise as well. Swallowing the last of the bread, he scoots
his chair closer to mine. “Ah,
darlin
', I
cannae
imagine
wha
' they must be
goin
' through.”

I nod, heaving a small sigh. “She is hurting so much. I feel sorry for them.”

Julian takes my hands in his. “
T'will
be hard, but they will get through it somehow. Libby is a strong woman an' I'm sure she appreciated
havin
' ye ta talk to.”

I flick a tear away. “Julian, promise me we will always be close. I don't think I could bear it if we weren't.”

Pulling me from my chair onto his lap, he wraps me in his warm embrace. “We will,
mo
nighean
donn
. I promise.” He meets my lips with his, kissing me tenderly. “I love ye, Giselle. An'
tha
' will never change.”

“I love you,” I murmur against his mouth.

Then, deepening his kiss, he endeavors to prove his words.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 4

Let there be nothing within thee that is not very beautiful and very gentle, and there will be nothing without thee that is not beautiful and softened by the spell of thy presence.

James Allen

A
s soon as we get past some major turbulence, I loosen my death grip on Julian's hand. “Sorry,” I say as he flexes his fingers.

“Tis all right,
darlin
'.” He gives me a reassuring smile. “I
wouldnae
give up the use o ma hand for anyone but ye.”

“Thanks,” I say, leaning over to kiss him. “Is that better?”


Weel
, let me see.” he again flexes his fingers. “
T'will
do for now.” I elbow him and he grins, lacing my fingers through his, kissing my hand.

A male flight attendant, making his way down the aisle, stops by our seats with the service cart.

“What would you like, Ma'am?” The young man's grin widens as he leans over Julian to serve me. Julian releases a low snort and I nudge him.

“Can I get you anything else?” he asks, turning on his best southern charm.

“No, thank you,” I say, glancing
at
Julian’s amused expression, and then across the aisle at Dad's matching grin where he sits with Aidan.

“Well, if you need anything else, don’t hesitate to let me know.”

I wait to see if Julian will receive the same syrupy hospitality, and I'm actually kind of surprised when he doesn’t. The attendant serves Julian his drink without conversation.

“Now, as I said, if you need anything,” he says, putting emphasis on
anything
, “don’t hesitate to ask.” His eyes never leave mine as he makes this offer, and though I am flattered–especially now when my confidence is so floundering–I almost want to punch him in the eye with my wedding ring. And it is obvious that Julian is thoroughly enjoying this. Once the attendant moves up the aisle, I playfully punch him. “Oh, you!”


Wha
'?” he asks innocently.

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