Flora didn’t understand these fashions that required aid for dressing. So impractical. Isaac lay in the bed, his gaze turned toward the wall, affording her some privacy as she removed her gown. Luckily, this one, she managed without assistance. As she kicked off the slippers and peeled the stockings from her calves, instead of feeling relieved from the loss of the garments she wasn’t accustomed to wearing, she had a tightness seizing every inch of her body.
Did she want to give herself to Isaac? She’d never felt this way, had never yearned to have a man’s lips claim hers and teach her how to be a woman. But as much as she wanted to tell him to show her, she could not risk bringing a babe into this world without a stable home life, and as much as she loved children, she would never have that. The best she could do was ensure that her brothers and sisters were given the opportunity to do so.
So, she flattened and folded this desire coursing through her, just as she would the gown she peeled from her shoulders. She hid the yearning where she hoped it wouldn’t resurface and consume her, because that was what it was doing—devouring all her senses, even making her forget the danger she was in, and would have to face once this weekend was over.
To ease the pressure, she started talking, keeping her eyes pinned his way to ensure he didn’t turn as she pulled the skirts from her waist. “How long are ye in Scotland for?”
“I should already be on my way home.”
Well, that wasn’t the right question, but maybe reminding them why they were here would cool the longing she’d seen in his gaze. The one that had heated her flesh and made her pulse beat faster.
“It seems like ye have enough money to buy more jewels if ye wanted. Ye own an estate and a carriage and can afford to stay places like this.”
“A drought destroyed my crops this year. I can’t maintain the land without the income from my ships.”
She didn’t see what that had to do with anything, but he’d turned over, and his intense blue eyes studied her. At first, she thought there was anger there, but his gaze softened. She attempted a smile to diffuse the uncomfortable silence, then something else swirled in his eyes, and the desire she’d seen there before returned. That was when she realized she only wore her shift, and suddenly she felt exposed and bare before him.
Tearing her gaze away, she padded over to the window and gathered the curtains together, hoping if he couldn’t see her, she would be able to fight off the warmth gathering in places she thought immune to men.
Strolling to the bed, she glanced down, still able to make out his questing gaze. “Will ye move over?”
“And trust you not to sneak out during the night?”
She sighed. “What do ye want me to do then?”
“Climb over me.”
Her breath seized. That seemed so wrong, but she did as he’d instructed and was met with a groan as she straddled him. Suddenly, he was flipping her onto her back as he loomed over her. The covers he’d been wrapped in and their clothes were the only things separating their skin from touching. He studied her, gauging her reaction. Her mouth watered and she licked her lips as the force of his heated stare did strange things to her. It was like the effects of strong wine. Her limbs were weak, and everything around her blurred.
“I would like to kiss you again. May I have your permission?”
Her lips parted, and she thought she nodded but wasn’t certain because her chest was tight, and now all she could do was look at his eyes as his mouth inched closer, stopping so near that the scent of mint on his breath reached her nostrils.
“I have to know it’s all right to kiss you.” He looked pained and on the edge of breaking.
“Yes. Kiss me.” She didn’t know where the words came from, but she knew they had escaped her lungs before the logical side of her could form an objection.
Lips collided with hers, gentle and seeking. She shut her lids, tilting her head to give Isaac better access—och, to give her better access. The sweet velvet of his mouth sent shivers through her as he deepened the embrace, his tongue prying its way in and dancing with hers, sending sensations swirling and cascading over her in a heady crash of vibrations as her whole body melted.
Without ending the kiss, he shifted, moving so that the covers between them were dislodged, and she could feel the silky smoothness of his thigh against hers. He propped himself next to her, and one hand threaded through her hair, drawing her in, and she felt his hand clench and grip possessively at the base of her neck.
His grasp lessened, and his hand drifted down her arm, leaving tingles in its wake. Then his hand was on her hips, exploring her curves until it found the end of her shift and pulled up. His warm fingers glided across her thigh, and shivers ran up her leg. A gasp escaped from her throat, or at least that was what she thought it would have been, had it not been caught by Isaac’s mouth. His hand traveled up, and just before he reached the juncture between her legs, some semblance of self-preservation broke the spell.
She drew back, hoping he would understand that she wouldn’t be able to stop him if he didn’t give right now. She was melting in his hands like spent candle wax and could be molded into whatever he wanted at that moment. Crossing her legs, she gazed up at him and pleaded silently as she shook her head.
The longing in his eyes matched what she could feel to her toes. His breath caught. That was fine because she didn’t think she’d been breathing since the second he’d touched her. His intense stare begged as he implored, “Trust me,” and she knew she was done—there would be no stopping what was about to happen.
“I won’t take you tonight, but I want to watch you come apart.”
What did that mean? But it didn’t matter—he was going to keep touching her, and she was done. She couldn’t pull back now. She wanted this.
His hand peeled apart her legs, and deft fingers traced across the delicate inside skin, up and down as sensations spread across her flesh and let herself relax into the sweet caress. Then he continued all the way up to the curls that covered the mound above her woman’s area. Awareness assailed her as he continued to move, but this time down. One finger slipped across the nub at her center, and a spasm rocked her so hard it had her grasping for him, holding onto his arm and clutching as her gaze widened on him, asking him for more, even though she didn’t understand.
He studied her as he continued to glide up and down her sensitized skin. One finger slid inside her passage, and she felt her eyes roll back as she arched into the touch. When her gaze returned to his, it was to see that his blue eyes had darkened and dilated—he looked dangerous and protective at the same time.
Without removing his finger, his thumb danced across her bud, and her mouth fell open. He did it again, and then it was moving back and forth in a rhythm that kept her on the edge of a fulfilment she longed for. Suddenly, her body started to splinter into a million pieces, and she grasped tighter for purchase because surely the bed had swallowed her, and they were falling. Then, his mouth was on hers again, claiming, possessing, and branding her with something primal as she completely fell apart. Waves of pleasure rushed over her, bursting into unimaginable bliss, and she was only vaguely aware of whimpering into his mouth.
When he withdrew, she felt replete, and some strange satisfaction washed over her. Like she’d been starving for his touch for years, and he’d just fed her the meal of her life. His intense stare remained on hers as he gently pulled his hand back.
"Touch me,” he pleaded, but his voice was hoarse and strained, his breath shallow.
He took her hand and wrapped it around his engorged member. It was much larger than what she’d expected, and at first, it scared her until she realized he didn’t plan to fill her with it. He just wanted her to do to him what he’d done to her, so she sat up to get a better angle.
Flora felt emboldened and oddly in control. Guiding her hand up and down the length, Isaac instructed her on what he wanted, and she continued to caress his penis as his eyes glazed over and he fell onto his back.
Encouraged, she increased her pace as he inhaled sharply, then threw his head back. She pumped methodically, reverently as she studied his lean form, his muscles tense as he reacted to what she was doing to him. Spasms racked his body as his hands tightened on her side, and his seed shot from the tip of his manhood.
When his breathing slowed, he rose, his regard intent on her as he moved in, easing her back on the bed and kissing her with such fervor she thought he might want to start again.
Then he collapsed onto the bed, his eyes closed, and he let his breathing even out as she studied the satisfied smile he didn’t even try to hide. There was power in knowing she had made him feel what she had, and the effects still lingered. But still, she didn’t know what to say, so she remained quiet, waiting on him to acknowledge what had happened between them.
To her, at least, a monumental shift of trust had sprung from what they had done.
He said nothing.
He maneuvered to grab the blankets and draw them up to cover them both. Then, he draped his arm over her, obviously no longer concerned how his touch affected her and closed his eyes. She was surprised a moment later when his breathing evened out, and he’d fallen asleep.
As she lay there, it hit her that she was afraid of what had just happened. Because although she didn’t understand it, she wanted it to happen again. Wanted to experience this with him—no other man, only him. If this were why women found themselves in trouble, she was headed down a road of destruction she’d never intended to travel because if he wanted to do that again, she didn’t think she would have the power to resist.
Isaac awoke to his arm draped over Flora’s waist. She rested on her back, and somehow, he’d nuzzled up next to her, thighs touching, manhood erect. He was utterly content not to move, to relax into the comfort of the embrace and let her scent wash over him.
This was not supposed to happen.
He should be sated. Should be ready to go about the weekend and then retrieve his belongings. Be done with the criminal in his arms. But instead, the only thing he could think of was sinking into her and never stopping.
He shifted, trying to relieve the pressure, but all he succeeded in doing was waking the lass who turned toward him and gave a lazy smile, which she most likely wasn’t aware made her look sultry and inviting.
“I hope you slept well,” he said as he backed up and tossed the covers aside, putting distance between himself and her temptation.
“Aye, I did.” Even the sound of her voice was now stirring desire as the cords vibrated through his ears. He had to remember that looking at her was what had gotten him into this mess to begin with.
She climbed from the bed and sauntered over to the window to glance out. She looked lovely in her shift, the backside of her shapely legs teasing him with a glimpse of her glowing skin. A vision of her standing in his study—staring out the window, her long hair unbound and falling in chestnut ribbons to her waist—flashed in his mind. It was so sudden and unnerving he had to turn. But it was too late.
He wanted that. He wanted to be able to take her home and see her enjoy his view.
A sane part of him said, but what will she take from you if you let her into your home? Clenching his fists as reason returned, he retrieved his clothes and started to dress.
“You will probably have a nice view from the house windows this weekend.”
She smiled, and it pleased him until he noticed a sadness creep in.
“Do you have an objection?”
“Aye, but ’tis silly.”
“What is it?”
“It will make it difficult to face my view when I return home.” Then her shoulders drooped. “Well, until I go to Edinburgh. It doesn’t matter what the view will be there because no matter how beautiful, ’twill be a cage.”
“Once you have returned what you took, I’ll see to this Alastair character for you.”
She stiffened and straightened her shoulders. “I will take care of my own problems.”
Now she was just being stubborn. He wanted to help. It was what he did best, and by damn, he might not approve of what she did, but he would not leave Scotland with her in trouble. And he would have to see to it that William stopped her from stealing in the streets. The next time she got caught, it could mean jail or worse. He couldn’t let that happen.
Pulling his boots on, he started, “Fredrick should . . .” Before he could finish, there was a knock on the door. “Ah, that would be him now.”
Sliding the trunk from its protective spot, he cracked the door to see Fredrick and Isobel waiting outside. “I need to run out. Please see to it that everything is ready to go when I return. I’ll join you to break my fast when I return.”
“Yes, my lord,” Fredrick said.
“Ah, and please see to it that a bath is brought up for Flora while I’m gone. I shall also require one when I return.” He left without saying goodbye to Flora. After all, she was the reason he was in this state.
What felt like hours later, having failed in his mission, he joined them to discover the table had already been cleared, and they were ready to depart. Instead of ordering something to take with them, he urged them toward the door. Because despite, or maybe because of the relief Flora had given him last night, he was tempted to haul her back up to that room and relive the evening.
He was in a foul mood. After visiting every establishment in the small village, he’d failed to find any form of contraceptive and had come away with nothing but old wives’ tales on how to prevent pregnancy. He knew there were options, but nothing he could get his hands on.
The carriage ride did nothing to improve his mood. Although it was a beautiful sunny day and the traveling was smooth, Flora was so close he could smell her, and all he could think about was wanting to explore her curves.
By the time they pulled up at the Stonehaven estate, he felt sure he’d murder someone if he didn’t either get some food or a bed that he could toss Flora in and sate the lust that had taken root. He shouldn’t have touched her last night. Then he wouldn’t be feeling this. It was all his fault.
He slunk down from his seat, and his boots landed on the packed but still moist earth with a heavy thump. Servants rushed the carriage, helping Flora down before he had the chance to take her hand, something that he’d wanted to do from the moment they’d entered the confines of the small space.
They were escorted to the front door, and he turned to her and whispered, “Are you ready for this?”
“Aye. I am quite capable of being civilized.” She snapped at him, which did nothing to improve his mood.
After he announced himself to the butler, the man said, “I’m sorry, my lord, but the rest of the guests are out riding on the property. You just missed them. I will get you settled in your rooms, but they should be back for tea.”
They followed the butler in silence as he led them up a flight of stairs and down a hall to the two rooms at the very end. At least some luck was with him today. The Stonehavens had seen fit to arrange that Flora’s room was directly across from his. It would make it much easier to keep an eye on her. He had not been looking forward to sneaking far to find her. There was no way he was letting his guard down and allowing her out of his sight this weekend, which posed another problem—this damn urge to claim her fully.
“I’ll see to it that your things are brought up straight away.”
“Thank you.”
Flora was already pushing in the door to her room, but she froze, her hands falling to her sides, fingertips slightly curved. His gaze was drawn to the movement of the butler as his footfalls retreated down the hall with barely a sound. He smiled, realizing the hall was carpeted and would make no noise when he snuck over to Flora’s chamber.
Turning his attention back to his thief, he noticed she still hadn’t moved. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She skirted in and attempted to shut the door behind her, blocking him out, but he stuck the tip of his boot in before the barrier could close. She didn’t walk over to the window as she had at the inn; she paced to the side of the room and stared down at the fireplace, most likely upset that he’d ruined her plans of taking anything valuable from the room.
“You will not be left alone this weekend.”
Her whole body tensed, and he wished he’d used a bit less bravado in his tone.
Flora’s gaze shifted toward him, and a spark lit her eyes. “You have no right.”
“Yes, I do. Until my items are returned, I won’t be letting you out of my sight. Despite your charms, I haven’t forgotten who you are.” He regretted the words immediately and knew his claim wasn’t true.
She was so much more than who he’d originally thought. He was enthralled by her, despite his efforts to keep his wits around her. His reluctance was more than a lack of trust; he didn’t want her running about unsupervised. He didn’t know how many men were about and if any of them were like John.
He wanted her safe, and he wanted her to be his, but she never would be.
And why did she not glance outside?
He stepped closer, and she stood her ground, meeting his gaze with defiance, angering him farther.
“You are only here because you stole something from me, and until I know I can trust you, you will not leave my side. Do you understand?”
She gave him her back.
He’d never had someone flat out ignore his requests before. “Flora.”
Her hands, still slack at her side, curled into fists. Swiveling back around, she ground out, “I do not belong to anyone. You are lucky I am here, and that I might still return your trinkets.” Taking a step toward him, she motioned around the room. “Look at this place. Is it like yours? If so, you don’t need them.”
“If I did not have to keep up appearances in front of the Stonehavens, I would haul you back to the watchman. Your lip is healed, and there is no reason to think I have done anything untoward. And now I have witnesses that you have willingly stayed at my side. Or I could make a deal with Alastair,” he taunted, then regreted his words immediately. He would never do anything to harm her.
She stepped away, turning to the side so he couldn’t see her eyes. She leaned against the wall facing away from the window, tilting her head onto the deep rose-colored paper hanging in the room. The hue reminded him of the dress she’d been wearing the first day they’d met. She looked defeated, and that was the last thing he wanted, which made him furious with himself.
What was wrong with her view? He wanted her to smile again, missed her childish delight of simple things. If she would only glance out, perhaps she wouldn’t look so forlorn.
Then he blurted out, “Why are you not looking out the window?”
“Because ye have reminded me that I am nothing more than a thief. I ken the view is more than I could ever dare to hope for.”
Hell, he’d not meant to remind her of her station. He’d only wanted her to himself and only wanted to bring her joy.
Moving closer, he reached out and grasped her hand, but while she didn’t resist his touch, she didn’t look at him. He’d felt so close to her this morning, and now, all he wanted was to have that back, to erase his rash words and let her know what he thought of her.
Things he couldn’t tell her until he knew she was going to return his ships. He couldn’t risk her knowing how he’d already do anything for her, so instead of telling her how selfless she was and how he thought her the kindest, most generous woman he’d ever met, he only entreated, “I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I am hungry and sometimes overreact when I’ve not had proper nourishment.”
She nodded, and her glare became neutral. “Thank ye.”
Pulling her away from the wall, he grasped onto her other hand and drew her nearer.
“I ken how hard those words are.” She inhaled, her chest rising, then falling slowly as her gaze remained riveted on his. His pulse quickened.
“Am I forgiven then?”
“Aye.”
He’d never thought about how she was almost a full head shorter than he, and now, he longed to see how she would feel crushed to his body. “May I have a kiss to know you are sincere?”
Her cheeks reddened, and every muscle in his body tensed with anticipation. Flora’s lips fell open, and then she gave a small nod. He lowered his mouth to hers, and tasted sweet honey and wine, tasted innocence and desire, tasted everything he’d ever wanted in a woman but had never found. He knew once he left Scotland, he would never find this again. Someone who made him feel like he had before his youth had been yanked away from him, free and alive.
She moved closer, rising on her toes and deepening the embrace. So he let his hands slide from hers and wrap around her waist, reveling in the feel of her as she became flush with his chest. She kissed as if she felt the same way he did—like she knew this was something special and that it would soon end.
He hardened and then remembered that he’d had no luck finding any forms of birth control this morning. He was supposed to be passing Flora off as a respectable woman. The last thing he could do was ask someone here—that would be one of the fastest ways to destroy her reputation with these people.
And even worse, he couldn’t go back to England thinking she might be with child. He’d only known her a short time, but he knew it would tear her apart to become pregnant without a husband. Her story with the blackguard who had taken advantage of her proved it. He would not be that person.
Pulling free before the temptation to make her his completely overwhelmed him, he let her go. “I’ll give you a few moments to rest. We will need to go down to join the others for tea soon.”
“Thank ye. Will ye trust me then?”
“Yes, for a few moments alone, but you do have to admit that I am a fool to do so.”
The corner of her lip lifted, and her mischievous gaze lit on his. “Aye. Ye can never be too careful.”
“I’ll escort you down in about half an hour. Can you be ready?”
“Aye.”
He strolled from the room. Shutting the door behind him and entering his room. He left his door slightly ajar so that he could see if there was any movement from across the hall.