The Draig's Woman (7 page)

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 thought 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.

On the morrow, he would see her dressed in the finest he had to offer. Ian would see that she wore his plaid over her shoulder, the Draig colors marking Claire for all to witness. The clan would be pleased. His sister would approve, more than approve, and he could see them as friends. The sheet would hang over the fireplace in the hall. Their vow would be repeated for the whole clan to hear. The women would welcome her, and the men would be pleased. She would be recognized as a part of his clan. Their beginning would truly start. Claire was his now.

Ian had never been so grateful to see his lands and to not hear horses in the distance. They had kept their lead. Changing paths again and again had worked. It had made for a much longer ride, but it was worth it.

“Do you see it before you, sweeting? It lies just ahead.” Ian knew his voice was filled with pride.

Ian could only see the outline of stonewalls in the dark night. The keep itself was only visible due to the torchlight from within. The smell of the sea offered a balm to his tired soul. Even from where they were, he could hear the crash of the waves against the cliffs that guarded the far side of his home. In the distance, the village looked safe and secure as the storm raged.

Ian needed only to bring Claire inside the walls. The threat was gone. He had brought her to safety. He had brought her home. Safe at home with Claire was a thought that held much meaning for him. She had gifted him with a vision of the life his heart wanted. Ian wondered how many other things in his life truly had value. His family, of course, his lands, his clan, and this place he was not sure he would have ever seen again. For the first time since becoming laird, there was a sense of well-being in his heart.

They would be warm and safe in only a few moments with his gates in sight. Ian should prepare her for the reception she would receive. It was not every day he rode in with a wife in his arms. Despite the cold rain and wind, he smiled. The entire clan was waiting to hear that their laird would marry. They waited for news of the prosperity the match would bring.
News of prosperity . . .

The clan was waiting for word that Ian had agreed to the betrothal, a marriage with a dowry to ease their worry and his burden. It all flooded back in, every reason he was on the road and every reason he had refused to acknowledge for the past day and a half. Taxes, not enough coin or wealth to provide for his people, a promise of a marriage contract and the dowry so desperately needed. Clan wars had started over broken contracts. He had lost his way, lost sight of his path. So captivated was he by the lass in his arms that he had forgotten his duty.

In a single heartbeat, Ian saw his dream of a happy future with Claire fade. Responsibility and duty were the first lessons given to him by his father. He was tormented by the paths that lay before him. He had a duty to Claire. He had taken what belonged to her future husband, what she had saved. He had claimed her, and she had said nothing in return.
Did she not want me? Or did she remember what I had chosen to forget?

“Why d-d-did we s-s-stop?” Claire’s teeth chattered.

Ian’s arms tightened around her waist, turning her slightly in the saddle to see her face as he spoke. “I need to ask you a question, one of great import.” Ian tried to search her eyes in the dark as his hands brought her face to his and then leaned in with their foreheads touching. With a voice full of urgency, Ian posed his questions. “I claimed you, Claire, I ken well you heard my words. Why did you nay agree? Why did you nay give me the words in return? I can still claim you as wife, do you ken that?”

“What do you mean, your wife? I don’t understand. She doesn’t arrive for a while yet.”

Laughing at the response, Ian said, “I mean you, Claire, you are my wife. There is nay a man or woman on my lands who would deny that what passed between us was anything less than a marriage.”

There was no laughter returned as Claire replied, “I am not your wife. Why would I be your wife?”

Ian didn’t understand how she could doubt him. In his eyes, he had treated her as his wife.
“
Claire, I told you last night I would honor our bedding. I claimed you as my own. On the morrow, we will say the words before all who gather in my hall. ‘Tis all but done.” He was satisfied now she would take him at his word. Ian would do his duty.

Claire’s eyes widened at his statement.
“
Ian, that doesn’t make us married, it just . . . it just doesn’t.”

“Among my people, what happened between us does mean we are wed. Come into my walls as my wife.” Ian knew his voice had taken on a pleading tone.

Claire looked up at him, startled by his tone. “Married
?”

Ian studied her like a hawk. Taking a breath, he told himself she just needed a moment and then she would see he was right. She would acknowledge him and what had passed between them. Unable to wait any longer, he kissed her. No small kiss, but a hungry kiss, one that would remind her of their passion, one that would leave her breathless and wanting more. He took Claire’s mouth captive and kissed her with everything he had. She melted into him and his fire.

When he released her, she was exactly as he wished, breathless and not done with him. Holding her face with both hands, Ian stated, “You are my wife.” As Ian spoke, he tried to wipe the rain from her face and hair.

For a moment, Ian saw what he wanted, soft eyes holding his, and he could read the agreement in her expression. He placed a gentle kiss to her lips. “You are mine, say it.”

With a shaking voice, Claire replied, “You are already supposed to be marrying someone else. I think we both know we shouldn’t have made love last night.” Her eyes closed. “I understand you are trying to do right by me. There is no way I can hold you to something said when we thought we would never see tomorrow.”

Weighing her words, he knew she was right. Their time together the previous night hadn’t been some quick tussle with a lass. Claire spoke true; he had made love with her, and he wanted to spend every night with her in his arms. Ian knew she was the one he wanted, not only in bed, but also by his side.

“I claimed you because I want you by my side. That you were untouched had little to do with my offer. I want you, Claire, for all my days and nights. Spend your life with me.”

Opening her eyes, Claire finally met his gaze. “I can’t pay your taxes or provide for your people. I thought that was what you needed.”

Ian wanted to fight but couldn’t. The hope had been that she would agree and the decision would be made. The dream that he would marry for pleasure and not profit died painfully. The full weight of what had been set in motion sat upon Ian’s chest like a dead weight. This chance at happiness was gone. It had been just a brief respite from his fate.

Answering his unspoken thoughts, Claire continued, “Ian, I can’t be with you, not if your people would suffer because of me.”

“I should make you marry me just for saying those words.” Holding her face in his hands, Ian wished he could argue away the truth.

Trying to find a way, any way that she would demand he claim her, Ian’s next words were strained. “Then tell me, why were you untouched? Were you waiting for your husband?”

“I never assumed it would be with the man I would marry. I . . . I . . . I just wanted it to matter.” Her answering voice was soft and steady but held little conviction.

Ian heard the lie mixed with truth in her answer. “It did, sweet Claire, I swear this to you.” Ian’s voice was strong and clear. “I never kenned it could matter so deeply.” He wanted her to know this, needed her to know this. There were no words to impart how she had touched his heart. He added, “I dinna have the words to tell you how much I regret nay bringing you in as my wife.”

Holding his face in her hands, she gave him a soft kiss, sweet and chaste. Without looking directly at him, Claire said, “Let’s go inside, Ian.”

Gazing at her face with only sadness and longing for what could not be, Ian answered, “Of course, Claire. You must be freezing.”