Page 23 of To Serve a Laird
However, his scent was there, the spicy male cologne he wore, the smell of saddle leather, and the musk of his skin. It wasa heady combination, and Claire inhaled it with great pleasure; it was yet another thing about him that aroused her primal, animal urges.
Claire took the towel she had been carrying then placed it on the bed, and arranged his robe beside it, then turned to leave, but at that moment the door opened and a very sweaty and dishevelled Laird walked in.
He was running his hands through his damp hair to sweep it away from his face, and for a moment, he was unaware of her. He gave a great sigh, then unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged it off to reveal his beautifully muscled body once again.
Unable to help herself, Claire gave a strangled squeal then stepped backwards, her foot hitting a book that Iain had discarded on the floor. She almost tripped up, but managed to right herself at the last moment.
Iain raised his head and his blue eyes widened with shock when they met hers.
“Claire,” he cried, then he smiled, a slow, wicked expression that sent a shiver of awareness straight to her core. “You have ambushed me yet again. My god, am I not safe anywhere?”
Once more, Claire felt her cheeks heating up, and she stuttered an apology. “I-I am so sorry, my Laird,” she replied. “I didn’t mean to disturb you. Here is your bath water. I will leave before it becomes too cold.”
She took a step towards the door, but Iain stopped her.
“Would you not like to stay and wash my back?” he asked, chuckling. “All that fighting has made me very sweaty, and I’m afraid I cannot reach that part of my body.”
He sounded regretful, but Claire knew it was an act that he was putting on for her benefit.
“I am afraid I’m not qualified to be a gentleman’s valet, my Laird,” she answered stiffly. “Perhaps you should ask one of the manservants to help you.”
She curtsied and tried to leave yet again, but once more Iain stopped her.
“I have something for you, Claire,” he said, as he opened the top drawer of the chest of drawers beside his bed and pulled out a letter.
“Rose!” she cried joyfully, stretching out a hand to receive the letter.
However, it seemed that Iain was not willing to relinquish it easily. As Claire’s hand almost closed around it, he held it up as far as his arm could stretch, smiling at her wickedly.
“If you want it,” he said, “come and get it. I will not keep it from you.”
For a moment, Claire was nonplussed. There was absolutely no way she would be able to reach the letter unless she stood on a ladder or a piece of the furniture, but then he would just walk away from her and take it with him.
A wave of fury overtook her, and she flew at him, jumping as high as she could, clawing at his chest in desperation. She tried three times, and on the fourth her fingers almost closed over a corner of the paper, but Iain raised it higher, and it slipped out of her grasp.
Claire growled with anger, then tried one last time, but it was no use. Iain was not going to let go of it, so eventually Claire gave up and her shoulders slumped as she walked to the door.
Iain had been surprised but extremely pleased to see Claire in his room. It was as if she had read his mind, since he had just been thinking about her. Her letter had been delivered to him that morning, but instead of summoning one of his servants to deliver it to him, he had decided to do it himself.
She had been waiting for her sister’s letter for weeks, and now here was her employer acting like a clown as he dangled it in front of her for his own amusement. He suddenly felt wretched as he watched her turn away, and reached out to grasp her wrist.
“Take it,” he said, his tone suddenly gentle.
Claire grabbed it from his hand, but her eyes were blazing with fury. She opened her mouth to thank him, but she never got the chance.
“Claire…” Iain began, but his hand was still holding hers, and he never finished what he had started to say.
He pulled Claire into his arms and lowered his lips to hers with a long, fervent sigh of relief. How long had he waited for this?
Claire froze with shock for a moment, but as she felt Iain’s arms encircling her and drawing her close, pressing her against his body, she gave herself up to him.
She seemed to have no will of her own, and as she felt his tongue sweeping into her mouth, she felt a jolt of pleasure that went all the way to her core. She moaned in delight because this was something she had never experienced before, but it was blissful.
Iain’s hands had moved from Claire’s waist to her hips. He was tempted to move them downwards to cup her shapely backside, but restrained himself at the last moment.
She tasted sweet, so sweet that he never wanted to stop kissing her, but he knew he had to let her go, so with great reluctance, he drew away from her and looked down into her amber eyes.
She was furious, he could see, but he could see something else there. Did she want him just as much as he wanted her?
