Now she was luring him into passion’s dark fire, tempting and teasing, and Hugh braced himself against the onslaught of lust that hardened his body, resisting his body’s call to plunder her sweet depths. He had no wish to be faced with the guilt and remorse that would surely plague her if he did so. “Lass, ye hae tae stop this.”
“Shh,” she blew against his ear, kissing his jaw and neck. Then her hands were beneath his shirt, her palms on his stomach, his chest, pushing it upward. “Lift your arms.”
The request was so faint Hugh wasn’t entirely sure if she voiced it or he imagined it, but he lifted his arms and helped her pull the shirt over his head. Then her hands were on his chest again, burning a path around him as she pressed a hot kiss there. She rubbed her cheek against him, purring like a kitten as she kissed her way upward once more. Her lips were hot, her tongue unbearably arousing as they grazed his neck and the underside of his chin. With a groan, Hugh looked up at the ceiling, praying for help as her mouth closed over the base of his throat.
Then she was tugging at him again, forcing him to look down at her. Those purple eyes were dark and heated. Insistent. “This isnae what ye want, lass.”
“Oh, but it is. It is what I’ve been waiting for all night,” she whispered, stretching to kiss him once more. Then she took his hand and pressed his palm against her heart. It was beating erratically, matching her breathing. “I want you, Hugh. My heart is pounding like this for you.”
By God, but Hugh had never wanted a woman as badly as he wanted his one. He wanted to possess her, become one with her, but he wanted to be completely alone with her. To have her be his fully. “I told ye, I cannae share ye, lass. I want ye too badly tae hae ye hold back.”
“I won’t,” Sorcha offered the softly spoken promise as her arms twined together behind his neck and she lifted herself, her lithe body pressed against the hard length of him. “I couldn’t.”
With a groan, Hugh surrendered to the heady desire raging through his veins.
With a powerful arm around her waist, Hugh lifted Claire against his muscled chest as his lips took her with all the passion and desire that had building between them for the last several days. His mouth devoured hers as he carried her into the bedroom, his tongue plunging as a groan rumbled deep within his chest. Breathless, Claire clung to him in complete surrender, allowing him to plunder at his will. Her head was already swimming, but when Hugh cupped her bottom and lifted her against his rigid length, her head fell back dizzily as her blood surged and roared in her ears.
Yes, this was exactly what she needed.
“Oh, God,” the words escaped her with a moan as his mouth descended on her neck, nipping and licking at the side of her throat. She ran her fingers through his hair, knotting, pulling him closer. “I feel like I’m going to faint. It’s so … so … mmm … ohh, Hugh.”
“I want ye, lass. I’ve ne’er wanted anything so badly in my life,” he growled thickly. His hand was up the back of her shirt, his hot, rough palm searing her skin as he pushed her shirt up. He tugged then swore, easing back from her. “Ye hae too many clothes on.”
Claire swayed unsteadily, her head spinning euphorically when Hugh set her back on her feet and began to pull her shirt up … then down. He swore. Then reached to unzip the North Face fleece vest she wore and Claire looked down, realizing what the difficulty was. She did have too many clothes on. In typical Seattle fashion, she had dressed for the unpredictable May day in layers. The vest over a long-sleeve T-shirt with another short sleeve T under that. Helpfully, she shrugged out of the vest and pulled the first T-shirt over her head before Hugh helped with the second.
“My fumbling wi’ yer masculine attire belies the fact that I was once skilled at undressing a lady,” he murmured in a thickened brogue as it came off.
Claire smiled at that. “I bet you were.”
He reached down to unbutton her jeans. “I ne’er tried to remove another’s trousers before.”
“I should hope not,” she teased, pushing down the jeans and stepping out of them only to hear Hugh release an anguished moan. “What is it?”
Hugh cupped her breasts through the lacy cups of her bra, squeezing gently before thumbing her bra straps off her shoulders. He bent his head, kissing her shoulders as he removed the straps. One hand skimmed over her bare ribcage, over her hip, and dipped into her panties to cup her bare bottom. “When I imagined ye without yer clothes on—and I hae a hundred times—I dinnae think ye’d be dressed like this. I would hae had ye naked in an instant if I had. Yer so bonny, Sorcha. Bewitching. Och, lass, ye’ve been driving me mad!”
His lips were on her neck once more, his hands everywhere, moving over her as if he couldn’t get enough of the feel of her bare skin. Claire reached behind her to unclasp her bra and let it fall down her arms and then his hands were there as well, massaging and tweaking her swollen nipples. She gasped and clung to him once more as Hugh pushed down her panties and lifted her off the floor, inviting Claire to wrap her legs around him, and she did.
Never had she felt so beautiful, so light and fragile. In contrast to his big body, she felt wonderfully petite. “I’ve been driving you mad?” Claire said incredulously. “Really?”
With a growl, Hugh lowered himself down until he was looming over her, braced by a hand on either side of her. His head bent until their lips were inches apart, waiting, and Claire threw her arms around his neck and pulled him down to her. His lips took hers with none of the tenderness he had displayed before. His mouth slanted across hers, kissing her passionately, deeply, until Claire was clinging to him, whimpering with need as she tried to raise her body to his or bring him down to her. But Hugh did not relent. He kissed again and again, nipping and sucking on her lips, sweeping his tongue across hers until his breathing was as labored as hers.
The denim of his jeans chafed against the inside of her sensitive thighs as he moved lower, his hands, mouth, and tongue exploring her entire body, licking and sucking until her body was on fire, tensing. Panting desperately, Claire tugged at his hair, lifting his head until his blazing blue eyes met hers. “Please.”
Nostrils flaring with lust and desire, Hugh stood and reached for the button of his jeans, his eyes never leaving hers as he kicked them off. Then he was over her once more, pressing Claire into the bed and lifting her legs around him. His lips took hers fervently again as he pressed against her then thrust deeply, filling her, stretching her. “Ahh!” Claire cried out, throwing her head back as she clutched him to her. Her thighs trembled with ecstasy as he withdrew and plunged hard. She clenched her thighs tightly around him but couldn’t stop the release that came swiftly and unexpectedly, sending throbbing delight coursing through her. Sobbing with the intensity of her climax, Claire held Hugh’s body close to her. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just …”
Hugh shushed her, his lips tender against hers, as he began to move inside of her again. “Nay, lass, I’m nae done wi’ ye yet,” he murmured thickly as he thrust slowly. “Ahh, my bonny lass.” His hand slid up her bottom, lifting her hips higher against him. Desire rekindled into a flame, and Claire rose to meet him as his pace increased until she was at the precipice once again. This time she wasn’t alone. Hugh’s arms were shaking, his hands trembling as he took them over the edge together. His lips captured her cry of release only to join her with a low growl of pleasure as he came hard against her womb, flooding her with scorching heat as she throbbed around him.
Wrapping his arms tightly around her, Hugh rolled onto his back, carrying Claire with him until she was sprawled across his heaving chest. His lips skimmed down her throat lazily. “Mé gráigh tú. Mé adhradh tú. Mé grá tú, mo Sorcha. I gcónaí,” he murmured against her as his hands stroked down her back.
Claire nuzzled her cheek against his damp neck, inhaling the musky scent of his skin as she snuggled against him. “What does that mean?”
Hugh shook his head, his hand sliding down over her bottom once more. “It means, I am glad that
we hae another day together before we must leave.”
She didn’t believe that but Claire wasn’t in the mood to question him. The moment was too magical, too extraordinary to question. Instead, she sat up, straddling him and spreading her hands over his chest. Brushing her lips across his, she whispered with a smile, “For you, I would make all the time in the world.”
Olson, one of that fool Nichols’s junior agents, was hopping from one foot to the other in Jameson’s doorway as if he needed to use the G.D. John, Jameson thought irritably as he slammed down the phone. He’d be damned if he was going to take on one more academy stripling after this fiasco. “What is it?”
“Sir! Well, shit, sir! I can’t believe it, really,” Olson stammered excitedly.
“Spit it out or you’re fired!”
“She turned on her phone … Claire Manning, that is,” the junior agent said, bouncing on his toes. “Who would have thought …” Olson paused at the look on his superior’s face. “We were able to trace her, sir. I mean, she didn’t have it on long, but we’ve definitely narrowed it down.”
“Who did she call?” Nichols asked, stepping into the office.
“N-no one, sir,” Olson stammered. “That’s why I can’t believe it. She just turned it on and then off again a few minutes later.”
Jameson hid his surprise well. After days of nothing, he wouldn’t have thought the woman would be stupid enough to get caught twice in one day. “Where is she?”
The junior agent was hopping again. “She wasn’t on long enough to pinpoint her exact location but she’s somewhere on Bainbridge Island.”
Blood surging with satisfaction, Jameson pounded on his keyboard, looking up the location. “Get Marshall. I want men on that island now. Lock down the ferry. Do a door-to-door search of every building on the fucking island if you have to, but I want her found. Now!”
“Y-yes, sir,” Olson piped and was gone.
“You don’t have enough evidence to get a warrant to do a sweep like that,” Nichols said, closing the office door behind him. “Might I remind you that all you have is the fact that she left work early one day and left Spokane when the lab closed.”
“Probable cause excuses everything, Nichols. I thought you knew that by now.”
“You have nothing. We should be focusing all our efforts in the Spokane area instead of going off on some wild goose chase.”
“Dammit, Nichols, I understand you’re hovering on the edge of retirement but some of us still have to do our jobs if we want to suck off the government tit for the rest of our days, too.”
Nichols frowned. “You think I’m being complacent because I’m not jumping at shadows? Maybe I’m just as sure as you that this entire line of investigation is absolute bullshit!”
Jameson pinned the INSCOM agent with a murderous glance that would have had young Olson fainting at his feet. “Then who attacked my agent this afternoon, Nichols? Huh?”
“Marshall said that he never saw the man who grabbed him and that the guy spoke with a Southern accent,” Nichols reminded unnecessarily. “Hardly one of your savages. He was probably a tourist who thought Mrs. Manning was being mugged or something.”
Given that his life was practically on the line, Nichols was proving to be surprisingly resolved in his need to follow the protocols, which demanded some evidence of culpability before such extreme measures were taken. Jameson didn’t give a rat’s ass about protocols. What the evidence said and what he knew were two different things, so to hell with it all. “Get her, Nichols,” he growled. “If she gets off that island, Colonel Williams will be looking at you for answers.”
“And if she comes out of this clean, it will be your balls in a sling.”
Spreading his hands across his desktop as Nichols left the room, Jameson felt a surge of primal satisfaction, and a satisfied sneer curled his lip into some semblance of a smile. Soon, every one of his naysayers, like Nichols, would see that his gut had been right all along when he had Claire Manning, and by extension his missing anomaly, in his grasp.
Fuck the warrants. He’d burn down every building on the island if it meant proving himself right.
Chapter 34
Hugh turned and spooned behind her, slipping his hand up to cup her breast comfortably as he pulled her snuggly against him. She’d forgotten how good that could feel. What a safe and warm place it was. How it made a woman feel sheltered and protected. Right then there was nowhere Claire would rather be.
She sighed with contentment, but misreading the exhalation, Hugh shifted behind her, lifting his head to look down at her with his brow furrowed. “Are ye well, lass? Do ye … hae regrets?”
Claire almost snorted at that. Her regrets were many, but none of them fell where she might have thought they would. Lying there in the bed with Hugh after they made love, she had waited for the guilt and regret to flood her over what a week before she would have considered a betrayal to Matt, but Claire had known almost instantly that they weren’t going to come. What was happening between her and Hugh felt right.
What she did regret was that she was going to lose Hugh and that she had no choice in the matter. Claire skimmed her fingers over Hugh’s cheek and stretched up to kiss him softly. “No regrets. It was incredible.”
“And it will be again. I told ye I am nae done wi’ ye.”
The husky words were possessively spoken, and Hugh settled in behind her once more, his hand at her hip, pulling her back against the arousal already hardening again against her bottom. Her wild Scotsman was proving insatiable, but after a week of simmering lust, Claire was happy to have as much of him as possible before they were forced to part. Wiggling against his groin, she was rewarded with the press of his hot lips against the nape of her neck as he murmured foreign words similar to those he had whispered before into her ear in a thick, sensual brogue.
What did those words really mean, she wondered? His answer before hadn’t felt honest. His hoarsely spoken words had been too tenderly voiced to be mere sex play. Was it possible that he was beginning to feel the same as she was? Had he come to care? While the thought thrilled, Claire conversely hoped that wasn’t the case and did not ask him again about his words. One broken heart out of this mess was better than two. Especially when Hugh’s heart had already been broken by too much loss recently.
“Yer mind is wandering,” he whispered in her ear, enfolding her more tightly against his chest. “Are ye wearied of me already?”
A chuckle of incredulity escaped her and Claire hugged the burly arm wrapped around her waist against her tightly. “No, not at all. If it helps, I was thinking about you.”
“A pleasing thought if it has kept ye from fretting over other things.”
“Oh, I’ll always do that,” she confessed lightly, shifting onto her back so that she could look up at him. No man should be so beautiful, but Hugh was. With his blue eyes lazy and warm, his often fierce expression softened, and his broad chest covered with nothing more than shadows, he was every woman’s fantasy of an impassioned lover. Claire smoothed a hand over the bulge of his pectoral, feeling the rigid line of a long-healed scar there.
Hugh had fought a great many battles, but what might be the greatest of them all awaited him in the days and weeks to come. If only Hugh knew that there was so much more she worried about than their escape from Seattle. She worried more over how Hugh would proceed with life once he was safe with his new identity. Danny was right, of course. Hugh was smart and resourceful. He learned quickly and adapted even faster. No doubt he would thrive on his own, but Claire hated the thought of him returning to Scotland without her. The world was a hard place for people today to make their way in without a friend at their side. She felt like Moses’s mom must have, putting Hugh out in a proverbial basket on the Nile to fend for himself.
“Have you given any thought to what you’d like to do when you get to Scotland?”
“Am I tae assume ye are speaking of something more than my desire tae set foot on the land where Ro
sebraugh once stood?”
“Yes. In the big picture, what do you think you might want to do? Go to school, maybe?” she asked. “Learn a trade?”
“Ye think me a tradesman?” Hugh asked in surprise. “I may nae longer be a duke but I was raised tae lead nae tae serve. Nae, my love, fret not. I hae already a verra excellent notion of how I might earn my living.”
“Really?” she asked, surprised by the confidence in his voice. To her mind this was the one downfall of Hugh returning to Scotland and a major source of the anxiety she bore for his solitary return. “What is it?”
“I plan tae trade in the commodities.”
Claire blinked. That was not what she had expected at all. “What? How do you plan to do that?”
“In my own time, I invested heavily in the London Exchange and was always quite successful,” Hugh told her. “I’ve been reading yer uncle’s books on the subject and his news sheets and I cannae see that the foundation has changed much. Do ye recall what I said about being good at puzzles and the like? Part of it is seeing patterns others cannae see. That is all this trading is. Applying variables tae the rhythm of the market and extrapolating a course of action. Some of yer businesses today I dinnae hae any expertise wi’ tae predict such a thing, but the basic commodities hae changed verra little over time. I’m certain I can make a go of it once I learn the use of the proper technologies.”
Impressive, Claire thought, feeling proud that Hugh was so self-assured in building a financial future for himself. It was an ambitious endeavor. “You’ll need capital to begin, though.”
A Time & Place for Every Laird Page 27
