He leaned forward and grabbed one of the glasses. The brandy went down smoothly and soon his heartbeat had calmed. Iain had convinced himself she would never carry through with it. She was a lady, he a mercenary businessman and so far below her on the steps of the ladder of polite society—the knighthood aside—that she should have run in the other direction.
Clearly, he’d been wrong about her again.
Iain slid his fingers in her hair and twisted a length of it around them. Like the softest silk, wrapping his fist in it while fucking her from behind had fulfilled his fantasy. His cock stirred a bit, but it would take even him longer to recover from this act of sheer satisfaction.
Besides that, this was theironce. And, being honest with himself, if they did nothing else, he would walk away perfectly happy. She had reacted to his commands in a way he never expected. He liked control in sex and Clare responded to it by accepting it, obeying him and being aroused as hell by it.
The way her body wept at his vulgar words, uttered while taking her to the thin border where pleasure meets pain just confirmed that there could be so much more pleasure between them. And, with her agreement to give him one day and one night, he could show her many paths to pleasure.
Clare roused a short while later, opening her eyes slowly and glancing around before she met his gaze. Would she be embarrassed by what they’d done, by what she’d allowed him to do to her? Would she decide not to return?
When she realized her position, she slid off his lap to sit next to him. He leaned up and got the other brandy for her. Taking it from him, she sipped it without looking at him.
“Are you hungry? Should I call down for a meal?”
“Will we stay here for the night?”
“Night?”
“Do you not expect me to stay the night? And the day?”
“This was our once.”
“Oh dear.” She drank the rest of the brandy in one gulp. “If this was once, I did not think I will survive a night with you.”
His masculine pride swelled at her words. In spite of knowing now that she was so inexperienced in bedplay that she overestimated his abilities or what had happened between them, he was pleased.
“You are good for my pride, Lady Clare. Very good for it.” He reached over and placed his hand on her leg. It felt incredibly intimate to touch her so, inexplicable since he had just been inside her body. “Tell me the truth now—did I hurt you? I’m afraid I let my despicable lust run free once I got you in my clutches.”
She laughed at his remark, and he drank in the sound of it.
“I am fine,” she said softly, a blush rising in her cheeks.
He lifted his hand and rubbed the back of it against her face. “I had hoped for better than simply fine. And you never answered my question about a meal.”
“I am hungry,” she said. Turning to face him, they each maintained a polite façade. “And you did not answer mine.”
“I did. This was not the night I have planned for us.” He stood and retrieved the brandy, filling his glass and adding to hers. “So, we can enjoy a nice dinner now that we have...” There were a number of ways to express what they’d done—none of them suitable for an overwhelmed lady. “Now that our business is out of the way.”
“Aye. Our transaction,” Clare whispered back.
Iain went to the bellpull and summoned a footman. As he passed the dining table, an unusual but unmistakable wave of regret pierced him. Staring at the place where he’d literally had his way with Clare, something bothered him. Which then bothered him because he did not suffer regrets in his life. He glanced back at the lady who sat calmly on his couch sipping her brandy after he’d practically ravaged her.
She was an enigma. And a wonder. No one else in his life had surprised him as many times as she had. No one challenged him as she did. No one made him laugh like her.
The lady stood and nodded to the retiring room. As she closed the door behind her, he realized he had two regrets about the Lady Clare Logan.
The first was that this was all a transaction, a quid-pro-quo, for them. Oh, he lived his life by paying his way and charging for his services, so he understood it was the norm for him. But he hadn’t wanted this to be the bargain they reached.
The second regret was that it could not continue once the bargain was done. Though wealth and power and his minor courtesy title could be considered equal to her wealth and ancient title by some, making some longer claim on her would bring a different kind of attention to him. The family lines in family bibles or old neighbors or vicars to vouch for a family’s history were lacking for him and he could never prove his identity.
For the first time in his ill-gotten life, he wished it was not so. That he was... worthy of a woman like her. As he stared at the closed door and then down at his blood-stained hands and felt his black heart beat, he knew he could never be. All these years he’d been quite content, happy, satisfied even, with the life he’d carved out with sheer ambition, effort and work.
When, if, he married, it would be the daughter of some business associate who needed him more than common sense could negate. Iain would get her with child and install her in a lovely, expensive country estate with servants aplenty and carry on making more money, acquiring more businesses, and running the ones he owned.
The soft knock at the door interrupted his maudlin musings and he was glad of it.
Several waiters entered, set the smaller table which they moved at his direction to the center of the room and presented their meal. As he expected, Clare did not return while they were in the room. And when she did, he knew it was better if all they had between them were transactions.
