The Draig's Woman

by Wadler, Lisa Dawn

  Ian surprised her. “It had great value to you.”

  Claire sighed as she replied, “My mother gave it to me when I graduated high school. Her mother, my grandmother, had given it to her for the same reason years ago. I have no idea if it was real silver or just pretty. But it was going to be the start of a tradition.” She paused to look at Ian as she spoke. “I appreciate you wanting to replace it, but you can’t. Let’s just call it done.”

  “‘Tis nay finished. I see only pain in your eyes at the loss of something so dear to your heart.” He picked up his dagger and held it out for Claire to see. “‘Tis the way of my people to pass items through the generations, too. This dagger was carried by the first man to call himself the Draig Laird.” He showed Claire the dragon wrapping around the handle, a head on the top and the bottom of the beast. “This came to me from my mother’s hands. The tales say that every Draig laird has given this dagger to the woman who captured his heart. Someday I hope to see it placed in the hand of my son to give to the woman who captures his heart.” Wrapping his hand around hers, Ian continued, “I can feel your loss this night. You had hoped to do the same for your daughter, to give her a piece of your life. ‘Tis a fine thing to ken your cherished items will be cherished by those who come after you.” His green gaze bore into hers. “I swear this now, you will have your jewelry back.”

  Stunned by the sincerity in his tone and how much Ian had just shared, Claire covered their joined hands with her other hand. “Thank you, Ian.” Sitting next to him in front of the fire, she felt her body relax despite their location. She enjoyed the warmth of his hand until grunts and groans from the next room broke their comfortable silence.

  Shifting uncomfortably, she was again aware of how little they wore and was very grateful for the blanket she now wrapped a little tighter around herself.

  Ian interrupted the awkward moment. “I am surprised you told me of your money problems. ‘Tis nay something many would speak of to anyone.”

  “I never saw it as something to be embarrassed about. It happened. There was no fault. Our world simply changed after Dad died. Besides, it’s over now. Mom’s pay improved significantly two years ago. Then she met David, and now it doesn‘t matter. My stepfather has plenty of coin.”

  “So that is why she remarried.” Ian’s statement was full of confidence.

  Claire practically yelled her next words. “No! I hate when people assume that. The money had nothing to do with it. They met, and they enjoyed each other. My mom didn’t know he had money until after they were engaged. David didn’t want someone like that, someone who wanted him only for what he could buy. They married because they love each other, the way it should be.” After her small tirade was finished, she realized her mistake. Ian was marrying for money and nothing else. “I’m sorry, I’m not judging. Things are different in my place and time. At least for most they are. I’m sure your reasons are perfect for this time.” She paused to gauge any reaction. “Really, I’m sorry. I don’t want to offend you.”

  Taking a long drink from his cup, Ian stared into the fire. “You dinna offend. You are speaking truth. A man and woman should wed by choice, nay the way I am going about it.” The sadness was all too clear in Ian’s reply.

  “Then why are you? Is it that bad financially, I mean, with coin at home?” Hers was a question that shouldn’t be asked.

  “I have no choice. If I did, I would nay have agreed to such a thing. I have been raised to want more. I wanted a companion in my wife, someone to help me care for my clan. I wanted a wife who would wish to spend quiet evenings with me before the fire talking and maybe even dreaming out loud. I wished for children that would not only be heirs, but also be blessings to be shared. I wished for the love and passion every man truly seeks. I wished for a great many things, but that is not the path I walk. I have never voiced these thoughts before.”

  “Then why are you marrying her?” She had never heard anything more eloquent or more heartfelt. Claire felt his pain for what he chose not to have, the things that mirrored her own desires and wants for life.

  “My clan needs the coin. We are behind in our taxes, mayhap a year or more,” Ian said. “The last several winters have been hard and the summers not fine for my crops. My stores are nearly depleted, and if we have another hard winter, my people may starve.”

  Claire could only stare in response. She knew what it was to be broke but not like this. Broke meant a small apartment, doing without luxuries, and a secondhand prom dress, not a slow death.

  “I provide all for the clan and most for the village. ‘Tis my fault we are in this situation. I should have paid more attention, should have focused on my accounts. Mayhap this could have been avoided and prevented. I dinna ken, and it does nay truly matter. The bride’s dowry will pay my taxes and provide for this winter, and we will start fresh and hopefully do it better. I have nay your skill with numbers, lass. I tend to avoid the work I should be doing.” He glanced guiltily at Claire. “Such things I have also never spoken before, just ken I am aware of my faults.”

  “I could look at your books. Maybe I could help find something you missed,” Claire offered.

  Ian shook his head. “Nay, you will be a guest. It would be wrong to ask this of you.”

  “Considering I’m to be a somewhat permanent guest, I am happy to help. Besides, I’ll need something to do. I need a purpose, a reason to get up in the morning. Really, I think this will help me more than it helps you.” Claire looked at Ian, hoping for his approval.

  A job will keep me focused, I need a purpose.

  A genuine smile crossed Ian’s face. “Then my books are yours for as long as you would like to manage them.”

  Claire’s returned smile was his reward. Instantly, he knew he would do anything she asked. Ian also noted her tired eyes. The cold and hard travel had taken their toll. She needed to rest and to sleep. His eyes found her bruised hands holding her cup, so many bruises, some to save him and some to save herself. It dawned on him then. I am not only a fool, but also an arse. No wonder she stormed away from me this morning. Two men attacked her, both intent on raping her. I am no better. He thought back to the way he had touched Claire while she slept just hours later, lost in her lush curves pressed against his body. His need had flared to life before he had truly woken. There had been no thought of what she had been through. He tried to take what had not been offered. How could I have been so blind! Ian had always thought himself better than that. I will be better . . . starting now.

  Speaking softly, he said, “Enough talking tonight, lass, and into the bed with you. It has been a hard day, and tomorrow we ride until we reach my lands. It will be another long day in the saddle. But tomorrow night you will sleep in a clean chamber safe within my walls after a fine meal and a hot bath. This I vow to you.”

  Claire’s eyes lowered to her cup. “All of that sounds really great.” She paused, shifting her gaze to the dirty floor. “You need to sleep, too.”

  Ian smiled at her thoughtfulness. “I will, before the fire. I wish to stay awake until this place quiets for the night, just to be safe.” He knew instinctively that he could not leave her alone if he shared the bed. There was only so much temptation a man could bear. Claire was temptation wrapped in his own shirt. The pleasure of her company before the fire was one he would treasure. She is such an amazing lass, yet not one meant for me.

  “Let me know if you want me to keep watch so you can sleep.” Claire’s eyes darted to the flimsy door.

  “Your offer is kind, but nay, I will sleep here soon enough. Pleasant dreams.”

  Claire rose quietly, making her way to the bed. Ian watched as she carefully placed one sheet to cover the filthy mattress.

  “I have no excuse for my actions this morn. Sleep at peace. I vow to leave you undisturbed.” Ian heard her intake of breath at the statement. He turned to see her
, and for just a moment their eyes met across the room. In a rush, it all came back to him, the passion too easily kindled in the quiet of dawn. He offered her a small smile as he remembered the rest, the many reasons to leave her alone. Ian turned back to the fire as he listened to her settle on the bed. Never had he realized that taking the correct path could be so hard.

  Chapter 4

  It was noisy, much too noisy. Maybe I fell asleep with the TV on again. Claire’s illusion lasted briefly, and then awareness quickly flooded in. Opening her eyes, she saw Ian standing at the door listening. She rose from the bed to join him. Ian made room for her, but kept his focus on the noises from below.

  “And I say you can nay just barge in here to question my customers.” Thomas’ voice carried above the rest.

  “Mayhap you are nay paying a good mind to the situation. I have over two score of men here who say I can. Be a good man, serve us drink and rouse your women. You may yet live to see the dawn.” A cold voice spoke with blatant authority.

  It seemed Thomas was not a man to back down even when threatened. “Men pay a fine coin for what I provide. You disturbing them will end that. None will come here. My family needs to eat.”

  Laughter answered Thomas. “I like you. We will find the middle ground together. You two men go upstairs, and any man nay currently enjoying the services of the fine place is to be brought down for questioning. The others can be questioned when they are finished. Does that bring you peace, old man?”

  “It will have to, I suppose,” Thomas answered begrudgingly.

  “Have you seen him, this laird we seek?”

  “I dinna ask for names. But, nay, a laird does nay sound like a man I have met,” Thomas answered quickly.

  “Why are you men still down here?” the leader spoke again.

  A new male voice answered. “Just finishing a quick cup. ‘Tis a foul night to be hunting.”

  The commanding voice said, “Be quick about it. I want this done and the reward purse in my hand.”

  Claire turned to look about the room. The window was too small to climb out of, plus they were above ground level. The only stairs she had seen were those that they had climbed, which led straight into the waiting men. They needed time to find a way out.

  Over two score. How many is a score? Is that like a dozen or something?

  It was too many to fight, that much she knew. Ian was speaking, but she couldn’t focus on his words. Claire knew what they would be as she had heard with her own ears the conditions imposed. She knew how they could buy more time and what was needed to prevent him from being taken downstairs. Seriously, to buy more time?

  Ian took her chin between two fingers to raise her face to his, to make her see him. The top of her head barely reached his chin. “Claire, I need to ask this of you. I dinna see another way.”

  “I was trying to think of something . . . something else, anything else, I . . . I . . .” Her voice faded.

  Still holding her eyes, Ian said, “Ken this now, Claire, I wanted you the moment I saw you in your time and every moment since we met. I wanted you, but I wanted you with passion in your eyes, nay like this.” Ian spit out the words. “Nay forced.”

  She stared at Ian. Disbelief filled her mind until she met his eyes, the intense green showing only want and something that looked like hunger. She turned away from the intensity of the moment.

  I need to do this now? Here? There has to be another way.

  But they needed to be seen together, very together. She looked again at the door and the view to the bed. They needed to be seen looking like they were intimate.

  BINGO! We need to look like we are, but that does not mean we actually have to be intimate. We could pretend.

  Claire’s mind raced, trying to decide how to best pull it off. “Tell me what you were thinking. How were you going to prevent them from seeing your face?” Ian’s smile let her know he had been thinking a bit too much.

  His smile broadened as his hands reached for the blanket wrapped around her. He removed it and placed it on the end of the bed with the sword underneath then positioned himself on the bed. Finally, he pulled the sheet from his body, draping it over his lap. He sat lengthwise on the bed facing the door. “If I am here, I can see the door and the man who enters. If need be, I can reach the sword. If you are facing me, you need nay see any who enter. I can keep my face hidden against your neck and most likely see through your hair.”

  Ian continued without the smile. “There is only disbelief that I have asked this of you, Claire. Never would I imagine using any woman as a shield, especially you.” He held her gaze. “I meant my words. I want you willing and with greed in your eyes and nay with the fear I see on your face.”

  Claire’s answer was halted by his last declaration. Greed in your eyes. For just a moment, she was all too certain she could provide the look of hunger he wanted. He awoke longings that she didn’t expect or quite know how to handle.

  Her rational mind pushed aside the lust-inspired thoughts as she remembered her goal was to not have sex with him to save their lives. “What you said about where we position ourselves makes sense. I can work with that.”

  “Your agreement surprises me. I feared having to convince you of the need for this, for you and me to be together. Claire, I meant what I said. I would have preferred this to be because of want and nay necessity.”

  She looked Ian in the face and only the face, glad for the dim light. She didn’t want to look at him, not like this—naked, sitting on the bed, waiting for her, half bathed in the light of the dying fire. Claire moved to the bed, and on her knees, made her way toward him. While moving to sit on his extended legs, Claire held the hand that would have removed the sheet. His look of shock was priceless.

  “Ian, we are going to pretend. I can’t really just . . . I can’t, and there is no reason to. We need to appear like we are, well you know, not actually . . . um . . . well . . . you get what I am saying, right?”

  In a daze, Ian nodded. “Aye, lass, I see your plan. Forgive me, as the thought should have been mine. I am a fool for nay thinking of this.” He held his hands out to her and held her by the waist and then set her down facing him. With her legs parted, she now rested on his thighs. He felt her tremble from the contact of their skin, and he struggled as he felt only the heat between them. Her hands moved to the laces of the shirt she wore, but his hands stopped her motion. He said gently, “Nay, I dinna wish them to see you.”

  Her motion and words stunned him. Claire removed his hands and continued to untie the laces. “If they are looking at me, they may not be looking at you.” With that said, she removed the shirt. Her eyes came up to meet his. Even in the dim light, a blind man could have seen the blush covering her cheeks. Ian tried to stay focused on her eyes, but the temptation proved too great. He looked at what had just been revealed. He had touched her, but her clothes were still on. He had not seen her, not like this. Suddenly, Ian wished for a hundred torches. He wished to see every inch of her, not just the outline the dying fire left for his vision. Even in the dim light, his eyes feasted on her. Her clear skin, long strong legs tucked against him, the curve of her hips, and breasts firm and full greeted his eyes. Never had he seen such a vision. Claire was perfection.

  Ian’s hands settled on each side of her waist. He could feel her skin, as soft as silk. His thumbs moved in slow circles with hands hesitant to break this moment. Finally, he pulled the sheet to cover the view from the door. Any entering would see their hips wrapped in a sheet and hopefully never know the rest. He gritted his teeth as the space between their bodies grew smaller. Never in his life had he known such temptation.

  She moved closer to him and placed trembling hands on his shoulders. Face to face, they looked at one another. Their upper bodies were not quite touching.

  “Do you think this will work? What do you ne
ed me to do with my hair to help hide you?” Her voice shook with the softly spoken question.

  Running his fingers through it, he fanned it out over her back and shoulders. It was a slow movement, as he was simply enjoying the feel of her soft tresses. Moving his face down to her neck, his mouth just below her ear, he whispered, “Perfect, I can see the door and keep myself tucked away from sight.” He felt her sigh as his lips brushed her neck. Ian inhaled deeply and said, “Even now, you smell like sweet summer berries.” Her small nervous laugh lit a fire deep in his belly.

  Ian shifted to face her. His hand touched her cheek, a simple gesture with just the back of his fingers grazing her skin. It was meant only to reassure her, but Claire’s breathing hitched at the contact, and her hands gripped his shoulders. Ian’s own breathing rapidly increased at this small touch. For just that moment, it was the two of them, their bodies touching and the air still. The thought of danger was gone from his mind with her in his arms. Letting out a sigh, he cupped her cheek.

  “You are beautiful. I could never have imagined a want such as this.” His voice quieted to a soft whisper. “Tell me, Claire, do you feel this between us, this need?”

  Her eyes searched his as she gave him a small nod. In a quiet voice she answered, “I just don’t understand why I do.”

  He answered her in a soft whisper. “Nor I.” He wove his fingers through her hair. “Such a fire I have never dreamed.”

  Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, and Ian needed no more of an invitation. His first kiss was soft and gentle, his lips brushing hers softly. The next was not. His lips parted as his tongue sought entrance to her mouth while holding her face. She returned the kiss and gave him what he sought: the surrender of her mouth. He kissed her hard and deep, tasting her, savoring the feel of this kiss, and passion returned. Holding her body to him, with one hand buried in soft hair, the other found what it wanted, her breast. So soft, yet so firm, his hand had never felt anything like this woman. His thumb moved to circle the hardened peak. The sounds she made and the way she moved, leaning into his hand, spurred him on. This passion between them quickly took hold, the feel of flesh combined with the taste of her mouth and the promise in both.