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 need 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.
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.