Page 37 of To Serve a Laird
“I like it,” she said, nodding with appreciation. She finished everything that was on her plate and sat back, full and sated.
Iain poured them a glass of wine, then they sat in silence for a while before he put his hand over hers and looked at her, a slight frown on his face.
“Claire, do you like it here?” he asked, watching her face intently.
Claire was startled by the question, and for a few seconds she could think of nothing to say. At last, she answered, “I am very grateful to you, Iain.” She looked down at their hands, avoiding his eyes.
“Lass, that is not what I asked,” he said.
“I have not had a chance to really see the whole place,” Claire answered evasively. “I am always so busy.”
There was another silence before Iain spoke again. “When you buy your freedom back, where will you go?”
He watched Claire as she struggled for an answer to his question.
“I suppose I will go back to see my sister, Amanda,” she replied at last.
Then Iain said the last thing Claire had ever imagined that he would.
“What if I asked you to stay?” he asked, his voice gentle. “Would you stay here for me, Claire?”
Claire was startled, and her eyes widened with surprise. “I-I would think about it,” she replied at last.
Iain took her hands and lifted them to his lips. “You are such a beautiful woman,” he whispered, then, to her amazement, Iain drew her from her chair and onto his lap. “But you are too far away.”
“You are the most handsome man I have ever seen,” Claire replied, smiling. “But then I have very little experience with men.”
Iain laughed. “And you are also the funniest,” he added. “Claire…” Iain looked into her pale brown eyes for a moment longer, then he kissed her, more softly and tenderly than he had ever done before.
As he drew away, he said huskily, “I cannot resist you. I have never desired any woman the way I desire you. I hope I never do because you are my everything.”
He looked deep into her eyes for a few seconds, then he kissed her again. Claire felt herself melting into him; she could not have moved away even if she had wanted to, which she very definitely did not.
“I want all of you,” he said as he drew back. “I hope I will be your first lover, and if I am, I will be the most fortunate man on earth. Ever since I first saw you, I have longed for you.”
Claire smiled, and reached up to rub the palm of her hand over his cheek, loving the rasp of his bristles on her skin. “As I have longed for you,” she murmured. “And you are my first, Iain.”
And, hopefully, my last,she thought.
Iain said nothing more, but swept her into his arms, then kissed her tenderly again before carrying her over to his bed.
He undressed her slowly, undoing the buttons on the back of her dress and kissing his way slowly down her neck as he did so. “You smell divine,” he whispered. “I have always loved your scent.”
Claire could say nothing. She was lost in the sensation of Iain’s lips and tongue as they travelled down her back, licking, tickling, teasing. She heard a frustrated grunt when he came to the barrier of her chemise, then he pulled her dress over hershoulders and let it drop to the floor before turning her to face him.
He cupped her breasts in his hands, squeezing them gently before untying the lace that held up her chemise, then slid it over her shoulders. He quickly disposed of her stockings and drawers so that her whole body was exposed to him.
“Oh, god,” he breathed. “Claire, I never thought any woman could be so lovely.”
He looked his fill of her, the creamy globes of her breasts tipped with rose pink nipples that were now peaked and hard with desire. Her slender waist flared into curved, womanly hips and long, shapely legs. Every inch of her was perfect.
“Thank you,” Claire murmured. Her instinctive response had been to cover herself up, never having had a man see her almost totally naked before, but she knew Iain would step forward to stop her. “Now you, my Laird.”
She stepped forward to begin undressing him, but Iain was too quick for her. He stripped his clothes off as if they were on fire, tossing them all over the room. At last, he stood in front of her in all his masculine glory, and Claire gasped. He was beyond handsome. He was like a marble sculpture made of flesh.
His shoulders were wide, his chest broad and flat, his arms so muscular that it looked as though he might be able to lift trees! If she had not known better, she could suppose that they were two different kinds of creature altogether.
Claire’s gaze travelled down to his legs, to his powerful thighs and calves, and then to that part of him that marked him as a man, which was erect, pointing at her, almost threatening. She had felt him before with her hands and her lips, but not seen him properly, and now, to her inexperienced eyes, he looked enormous. Surely, she would not be able to accommodate that?
