The door slamming open halted the moment. Moving his face back to the shelter of her neck, he could see the men through her hair. “Get out!” Ian snapped. He felt her flinch with the door and more with his harsh words.
Both men chuckled and looked at them. One said, “We’re looking for a man, a laird.”
“So am I,” Claire spoke with a small laugh and then turned to look at them. She shifted her body at the waist just enough to give the men a full view of her bare chest and perfect breasts.
Does her bravery know no bounds? She had captured their attention immediately. They did not even see him anymore. He vowed silently to kill them for looking at her, for seeing what was his. Ian’s hands clenched her hips, pulling her body closer. He needed them out now. He growled, “I said get out. There is no laird here. You are wasting my time and my hard earned coin!”
The same man responded. “No need to yell, I hear you just fine. Be a good man and come down when you’re done. Just a few questions, that’s all. Agree and we leave.”
“Fine, I will see you on my way out.” Ian watched the man turn to go. He had never felt such relief. Unfortunately, the second man didn’t move. He just stared at Claire. Now the other one waited, too.
The man asked, his gaze never leaving Claire’s body, “Is the whore worth the coin then?” The back of his hand wiped his mouth as he spoke.
Ian answered with a glacial tone. “The lass? She is just a warm body on a cold night. But a body I paid for, so leave. If I have to leave the woman to remove you, we will have a problem.” He felt her cringe at the icy words, and his hands moved softly over her back to offer some comfort as he prayed the man would leave.
“I have a few coins in my pocket. Be a good lass and come find me later, aye?”
Claire twisted again, looked him up and down. “Aye, I’ll find you,” she said, and turned her back on the intruder.
Ian felt Claire shake, felt her fear. He hated that there was no way to save her from this torment.
The men turned to go and closed the flimsy door behind them. However, they did not leave. They stood and watched through the cracks in the door.
Ian whispered in Claire’s ear. “They are still there outside the door.”
She said nothing. Ian kept his head seemingly buried in her neck to keep an eye on the door. To his amazement, Claire began to mimic the joining he craved. Her hips moved against him in a slow torment as her hands gripped his shoulders and her breasts pressed against his chest. Ian’s hands went beneath the sheet of their own will, pulling her by the firm backside to meet his mock thrusts. Listening to the soft sounds she made, he prayed they were real. His mouth tasted her neck, covering her with kisses as her soft mounds pressed into his chest. In another time and place, Ian would have killed for a moment such as this.
The sounds of the men’s voices carried into the room. Ian heard all their crude comments, the way they spoke of her, and what they were seeing now. One day he would kill them simply for having seen his woman and for thinking they had any right to her.
The men had seen enough, and Ian could take no more. Lifting and turning them gently, Claire now lay on the bed with his body covering her. Bracing on his elbows and knowing they were being watched, he shifted and placed himself where he desperately wanted to be. His manhood was against the vee of her thighs and, cursing the sheet between them, he thrust. Grinding against Claire, he relished that she moved with him. Even the mimicking of passion with this woman brought pleasure Ian did not believe could exist. With a comment about what they could no longer see, the men were gone. Claire and Ian were now alone.
He stopped. “They’re gone, sweeting. ‘Tis just us.” Claire’s eyes remained closed. He waited while his body fought its stillness. After what seemed an eternity, she looked him.
“I dinna ken how we will get out of this place. ‘Tis my fault we are here. I should have taken more care and nay brought us here. I promised you safety and only delivered danger,” Ian said softly, attempting to slow his ragged breathing.
“It’s not your fault, Ian. There weren’t a lot of options available.” Claire paused to catch her breath. “What do we do now? Should we get up and get dressed or should we stay like this?”
Plenty of things crossed Ian’s mind. Looking at the beautiful woman beneath him, he saw fear and something else in her eyes. Ian needed to move away to keep his promise to leave her alone. Away from her soft skin and the feel of her warmth. Away from her soft breasts pressed against his chest. Far away from the temptation he swore to avoid. A good man would ignore the soft hands on his shoulders. A better man would not note the firm thighs cradling his hips. A strong man would ignore the promise of passion in her eyes. He knew he should, at the very least, answer her question.
Instead, Ian kissed her, placing a soft kiss on her lips, then another and another. It started as a question: Would Claire allow this? Did she need this too? It started slowly as he felt her hesitation on the first touch. When her mouth began to reach for his, it rapidly spun out of control. Lips captured hers and nibbled her lower lip; his tongue invaded, invited by her gasps. Her mouth took his in return, tasting and tormenting him, but it wasn’t enough. The question had been answered. Now Ian needed everything.
He left her lips, his mouth travelling down her neck, lavishing hot, opened-mouthed kisses across her shoulders and down to her breast. When his tongue found her hard peak, her soft cries threatened to rush his need. While his mouth devoured one breast, his hand caressed the other, his thumb mimicking his tongue. Not yet satisfied with her ragged breathing, his mouth moved to the other to give it the same attention, to feast with the same greed.
Claire’s hands caught in his hair and pulled him harder onto her. Ian’s fingers danced in circles across the silken skin of her stomach, and the thought that this had gone too far evaporated. Instead, his mind and body insisted it could never be enough. He willed his head to turn away from the breast to see her. Her eyes were half closed, and her breathing came in gasps. In a flash, his mouth was on hers, demanding, taking, and giving. He ripped away the sheet between them. When his hand moved to her soft curls, Ian groaned into her mouth. There was no denying what her body told his hand. Claire wanted him.
Ian’s kisses grew fierce as his fingers found what they sought. He entered her, and her soft moan echoed in his head. His hand mimicked what his body craved to do to her, and she whimpered and clung to his shoulders. When his thumb moved in small circles between her legs as his fingers continued their movements, her hips lifted to take what was needed. Claire shattered against his touch, and he savored her sweet cry of passion fulfilled, and he could wait no longer.
In a heartbeat, Ian was on her, poised over her and ready to take her. He waited, needing her awareness of him and of this moment between them. “Claire. Open your eyes and see me.” Ian’s voice was rough with need, and his body shook with it. “Let me love you, Claire. Here and now, let me love you.”
Her eyes opened, and the sight pleased him greatly. She was drunk with passion. With eyes barely focused, she pulled him down for more kisses. Ian’s mouth greeted hers again as he entered her slowly, too slowly for his need, swearing he fought her body for entrance. The sound she made was different. Have I hurt her? Then he knew as he felt it inside her—a barrier he did not expect. Ian, Laird of the Draig, was not a man who bedded innocent women.
Claire’s soft hand cupped his bearded cheek as she whispered, “I want this, Ian.”
Shuddering at her words, Ian wanted her with a need he could barely control. As her hips shifted to grant him better access, Ian groaned. Finding a voice Ian did not know he still had, he said, “I would honor this between us, Claire. I need you to accept me. I need the words from you. Tell me. Tell me that you are mine. Say this to me, please, Claire, say that you are mine.”
Ian knew he pleaded and did not
care. He needed her in a way that he did not understand. At this moment, he wanted her to want him with the same need. Not because the promise of tomorrow did not seem to exist, but because there was no choice. They were meant to be together. Lost in her warm embrace, words ceased to matter to him. All that mattered was that she was his and his is what she would be.
Not waiting, Ian took what Claire had saved and smothered her soft cry with his mouth. Holding his body still, he savored the contact, the heat of her, and the intensity of the moment. Waiting for her to relax enough for her body to accept his, he placed feather soft kisses on her face and neck.
“We should nay be in this place, sweet Claire. We should be locked in my, nay, our chamber. You should lie on soft linens and softer furs with a massive fire to warm your skin while dozens of candles light our way as we discover one another. We should have spent the whole of the night preparing for this, readying you for me. Ah, sweet Claire, you are mine now, you are mine.”
The kiss started slowly. As his body began to move, it deepened. He felt her ready for the passion to come. With a single motion, Ian had claimed her completely, giving her all of him. Her gasp was one of pleasure, and it encouraged him. He loved her slowly and completely. He savored the feel of her hands as they explored his back and her leg as it moved to wrap around his thigh, pulling him toward her.
Ian thought he had wanted other women, and now he knew that all meant nothing. Claire was more than he could have dreamed of. They fit together with a harmony beyond imagination. He was awed by the passion she shared as much as by what she had shared before the fire this night. Though they had just met, he knew she was for him. Claire was the woman who should stand by his side and be just like this each night. A fire burned between them as he plunged deep inside her and he wanted more. He wanted everything she had to give. He held her gaze as he moved slowly in and almost out of her body only to claim her deeply again and again. In that moment, he saw what could be a lifetime filled with love and passion.
He was lost in ecstasy as Claire’s body moved to meet his, his hand holding her hip, pulling her to him, the other hand taking one of hers, entwining their fingers together. He loved her soft sounds as his body found the spot she craved. Ian felt her pleasure build and heard her cry of release. No force could have stopped him as her passage gripped his length. He called her name as he found his release, shuddering deep inside her. Never had he known such pleasure. Never had anything held more meaning. Claire was his.
Ian covered her face with small kisses. He kissed her lips, her closed eyes, and her neck. He tried to regain his breath and waited for her to do the same. He was afraid his weight would hurt her, so he removed himself from her slowly. He hoped the small sound was not from pain but from the mutual loss of their joining. Shifting to his side, he pulled her close and kissed her hair as he tucked her head under his chin. His hand moved softly on her back as she nestled into him. Her hand traced the dragon he bore on the side of his chest. ‘Tis fitting she find the mark of my clan, for she is one of us now.
Neither spoke. The danger had not left. It was merely postponed. The storm had ceased raging. Only the sound of gentle rain still remained.
If they were in his chamber, Ian would have been able to clean them both, to wash away her discomfort. If they were in his chamber, he would have carried Claire to the baths, washed her properly, and soaked with her in the tub. They would have talked of many things, the future they would build, the bairn they would have, and they would have touched. Ian let his thoughts wander to rekindling their passions and carrying her back to his chamber and spending the night discovering how to please her. He knew instinctively that she was everything he wanted from a woman and probably more. Instead, this quiet moment might be all they ever have.
He knew he should speak, that this sweet lass in his arms should hear of his joy and the contentment in his heart with her tucked within his arms. Never had anything felt so right, so perfect. These are the words he would give her. “My sweet Claire . . .”
A soft knock at the door held his tongue. Quickly, Ian covered her with the blanket while freeing the sword for his hand. Thomas entered, surprising them both.
“If you dress there may be a way out. But it needs to be now.” Without waiting for reply, Thomas left and stood outside the door.
“Do you think it is some kind of trick, maybe a trap?” Claire’s voice quietly questioned.
Turning to face her, he saw a vision before him with her hair messed and lips swollen. Ian answered, “We need to leave, and this may be our only chance. We have no choice but to trust him.”
In a flash, Claire was out of the bed and reaching for her clothing. She handed him his own and then made quick work of dressing. Now Ian knew what the strip of fabric she had placed before the fire to dry was for. He watched her dress and was awed by her grace. He frowned when she pulled her hair back and tied it; he already greatly favored her hair free for his greedy hands. Ian grabbed the blanket from the bed and draped it over her while placing a small kiss to her lips. The smile was all the thanks ever needed. With his saddlebags on his shoulder, Ian checked to be sure they left nothing behind. His eyes caught on the stained bed linen. This, too, went in his bag, as it was needed to hang in the hall.
Opening the door and facing Thomas, Ian demanded, “Why do you do this?”
Thomas answered without hesitation, “My daughter lives in your village, her and her man. She has four wee lasses and a bairn on the way. They need to be protected. A land without a laird is a dangerous one. I do this for them, nay you.”
Looking Thomas in the eye, Ian said, “I will do right by the village, I swear to you.”
“Keep your voice down and move quietly.” Thomas led them down the hall and opened a door, the one before they reached the stairs. It was another guest room. He kept moving toward the back wall. Moving aside a curtain, he revealed another set of stairs. “This leads to the kitchen, and there is a door leading out to the stables. ‘Tis the best I can do.”
“We are grateful. How much time can you give us before we are noticed?”
“Verra little. There is already talk of coming to find the woman.” Thomas’ eyes darted to Claire before once again settling on Ian. “Go now and have a care for my Margaret.”
They were gone in a heartbeat, down the dark stairs and though the kitchen and finally out into the rain. Grabbing Claire’s hand, Ian ran for the stables.
Chapter 5
The chase was on from the moment they left the stables. Dark gave way to gray light as the rainy day began. The sounds of many horses were always behind them, tracking their every move and never ceasing their pursuit.
As they evaded the riders, the morning became a rainy, dark afternoon. Stopping only once, they made a quick trip into the woods for them both. There was no conversation as the pair met again by the waiting stallion. As Ian held Claire by the waist to place her back on the beast, he placed a soft kiss to her cold lips.
Ian offered the only words time would allow. “Come, sweeting, by nightfall we will be safe. I swear this to you.” He prayed silently that they could evade the men for another half day and find the safety of his keep.
The horse jumping another fallen branch brought Claire back to herself. I didn’t know that spring rain could be so cold or even last so long. It was never like this in Arizona. Have I ever been this cold? Sure I was, last night. But then I was so warm. She shivered this time not from cold, but from memory. Then Ian’s arm tightened around her waist, holding her even closer. She felt his warmth against her back as they rode.
I shouldn’t be thinking about that, not now. I should think about the fear, the danger we had been in, and that we’re still in. I should think about the men that stood there, that I talked to, that had watched. Fear and shame gripped her again in a rush.
What have I done? Why? Ha! Like I thoug
ht at all. Being with Ian was like a force of nature, and there was no stopping it. The feel of Ian, his hands, his mouth, the warmth of his skin, and the pleasure I never knew existed . . . I lost all reason and all control. Maybe it was the fear of capture or the fear of death. No, there is no rationalizing this. I simply wanted him in a way that defies explanation. For that brief time, nothing else existed. Only us. Ian’s words painted such a wonderful picture, the image of a beautiful beginning. I had no idea I could feel so cherished, so wanted, and then so alive.
His. This is what I can’t think about. What he had asked me to agree to. Even then, caught up in the heat of moment, caught in the madness of my desire for him, I knew I couldn’t say it. I’m not his. How could I be? He will never be mine. There was someone else. Somewhere there was a bride, and she would be his.
Ian pulled Claire closer when she shivered, holding her to him as they rode. He knew she was freezing. The rain and wind chased them, as did the men. Upon reaching his home, he would see to a bath to warm her skin and a fine meal to fill her belly. Images of the two of them sharing a meal in his chamber kept him spurring on his tired beast. He would spend this night apologizing for the last one. There were many ways he could apologize, and in his mind he saw them all. When Claire was sated, he would hold her through the night.
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