Page 31 of To Serve a Laird
“I think you should trust my judgement,” Iain said sternly. “I am in charge, and I am the one who caused this. Have the wound cleaned before it becomes infected, then come back to me.”
He was still holding her, but as he released her, Claire saw that the expression in his blue eyes was soft and a little anxious. Claire suddenly felt that he was truly concerned for her, and her anger melted away. When he let go of it, her hand suddenly felt cold.
She longed to tell him that she was fine, that it was not his fault, but she simply followed the corridor to the healer’s quarters.
14
Claire was not used to being a man’s maid. It was quite a different kind of work from that which she usually did, which was extremely physical and tiring, but left her time to think and dream. However, looking after Iain Ross was not monotonous by any means. There seemed to be something different to do every five minutes, and as well as that, there was the distraction of the man himself. It was extremely difficult to avoid feasting her eyes on him at every opportunity.
She poured his tea and fetched him considerable quantities of food, but when she placed them in front of him, she was always acutely aware of his nearness. Claire tried as hard as she could not to touch him, and always kept a short distance between them.
As she was in the middle of all the sweeping and dusting, she thought again about the confrontation between Dougal McMahon and Iain; she had never actually seen two men fighting before—it had seemed almost primitive, like two stags fighting over a doe. But what had they shouted at each other? That intrigued her more than anything else, and gave her a better idea of just why Iain Ross sometimes looked so angry.
The elders—who she had learned were imperative for the clan—were clearly trying to pressure him into marrying someone, and he was obviously resisting. This was something Claire understood because she had seen a few of her own acquaintances married to men they actively detested, and their lives were miserable as a result.
Yet, Iain Ross’s circumstances were vastly different to hers. He was a Laird with a duty to his clan, so surely he was not holding out for a love match? Perhaps he had also been reading too many silly romances.
Then she had another notion. Could it possibly be because of her? Surely not as a wife, but Dougal had suggested a mistress, implied that Iain already had a lover and suggested that he take “a whole harem” of them. It did not sound like the advice of a person who was concerned about Iain’s happiness.
She felt the urge to ask him more. “Mr McMahon seemed very upset, my Laird,” she said carefully. “Are you quite all right after your disagreement?”
“Fine,” he replied, hardly looking up from his work.
“I wondered why you do not wish to be married,” she persevered, trying to sound matter-of-fact.
Again, Iain stayed focused on his work. “I have my own reasons,” he replied.
In truth, he was trying to keep his eyes off Claire because she was distracting him in a quite inappropriate way.
Claire had been cleaning the wooden floor, but after a while she had to stand up and stretch her aching back. As she got to her feet, she put her hands on the small of her back, pulling her shoulders behind her and thrusting out her chest.
Her gaze strayed to Iain, who was staring at her intently, his lips parted, eyes focused on her breasts. Claire was astonished, and her instinctive response was to straighten up and cross her arms over herself. However, something inside her refused,and she stayed in the same position for a few more moments, pretending not to notice.
She felt triumphant and powerful, seeing that this big handsome man was absolutely transfixed, but she herself was becoming aroused, feeling a pleasant throbbing between her legs. Gradually she lowered her shoulders then looked him in the eye, meeting his sky-blue eyes fully.
Iain had been trying to ignore Claire’s presence in his room by throwing himself into a pile of correspondence, but no matter what he did, he was acutely aware of her. When she leaned close to him to place a tray on his desk, a thrill shot through him, making his shaft harden almost painfully. She was so, so tempting, and Iain had been starved for the pleasure of a woman’s touch for so long that he would have happily taken her right there and then if she had allowed him.
And yet, there was more. Everything about Claire Tewsbury was fascinating—her character, her sense of humour, her intelligence.
As their gazes met, a current of something infinitely powerful crackled between them, and they were mesmerised by each other as amber eyes gazed into sky-blue ones, both unable to look away for a moment.
Claire broke the spell first as she dropped to the floor again and began to scrub it furiously. Her cheeks were flaming, and her feelings of desire mixed with embarrassment almost overcame her. However, she persevered with her work, although she thought she could feel Iain’s eyes on her every moment, almost as though his hands were caressing her.
She sneaked surreptitious glances at him from time to time, but their eyes did not meet again, since he seemed focused on his work. If she had known the truth, she would have discovered that he had lost all concentration and was desperately trying not to look at her.
At last Claire could scrub the floor no longer, and she stood up again. Iain looked up suddenly, hoping that she would stretch her back again, but he was disappointed, since she merely smiled at him.
“Am I doing good enough work for you, my Laird?” she asked. “If I can do better, please tell me.”
“You are doing well,” he answered, shrugging. “I have nothing to complain about.”
“That is good to hear. Thank you.” She frowned. “You must know that I heard everything that went on between you and Mr McMahon this morning, and I feel that I could help you further if I knew why you are resisting the idea of marriage so much. Is it because the elders have picked someone for you whom you dislike?”
“I really do not think that is any of your business, Claire,” he snapped, his good mood suddenly fading away. “You were not meant to hear what went on between Dougal and me. It was unfortunate that you did, but if I hear it being gossiped about, I will know who started it.”
“Whatever I hear within these four walls stays here, my Laird,” Claire stated firmly. “Have they chosen someone for you yet, or are they still looking, perhaps giving you options? Are there no ladies you like?”
Despite his attraction to her, Iain was now thoroughly enraged with Claire. “Whether I marry has absolutely nothing to do with you.”
