“As long as the new countess is at his side and misbehaving with him, he does not give a rat’s arse what they think.”
Iain watched as their friends and associates all greeted her warmly and understood why the act of kneeling before her had not been humbling but rather freeing. Nairn must have known his thoughts for he clapped Iain on the back.
“I told you it would work,” the marquess said. “When you do it right.”
If it ended with Clare being his, it was the right thing to do.
Now, all they needed to do was... he pushed aside all the arrangements and scheduling they would have to do to accomplish a wedding and moved to her side. If he truly was handling this the right way, he might be able to convince her to anticipate their vows with another sea voyage.
In the end, he needed little of his negotiating skills and just needed to point out the ship waiting at the dock with her name on it and she agreed.
In fact, by the time they married four weeks later, he’d enticed her throughpleasurableandimpoliteand had made good headway intounspeakable. He just hoped he was strong enough to survive being the last man Clare would ever love.
Epilogue
Ardgour House
Lochaber, Scotland
Clare studied thesurface of the loch as she waited. The sun peeked through the thick layer of clouds and skipped its way across Loch Linnhe, illuminating tiny ripples in the water. Although she loved living in the city, this place had become special to her since Iain had been granted his title and the lands attached to it.
There was more to the way the title had been granted but she was not certain if she should believe what he’d said or not. When he’d approached the Prince Regent in an attempt to accept the previous offer of a hereditary earldom, he told her that he’d jested he would take a title with lands attached over any seat in the House of Lords and so the Prince Regent accepted him at his word. Since his title was part of the Scottish peerage, unless named a “Lord of Parliament,” he would not be seated. Considering his businesses, their businesses and their marriage, Clare was pleased when he’d refused that offer.
These last three weeks had been their first significant separation since their marriage a year before and she decided quickly that she did not like it. She preferred him close, in their house, in the office... and in her bed.
She missed him. She missed sleeping in his arms. She missed arguing with him over meals and missed making up from those arguments. Shaking her head at that admission, Clare moved from the windows and made her way to the entranceway to the large manor house to wait. Her efficient butler approached but a quick shake of her head sent him off to other duties.
She’d sent Peffers away in an attempt to prevent another embarrassing moment like the one that had happened when Iain had returned from a short visit to Glasgow. Not expecting him back so soon, she’d been in the drawing room that faced the mountains and did not realize he’d returned. One moment she was working on a report and the next, she was lying on the desk’s surface with her skirts tossed up and her husband, so impatient that he’d not closed the door behind him, between her legs. Peffers had followed Iain in and by the time either of them noticed, the butler stood shocked and still with his rapidly blinking eyes as the only sign of life.
Clare laughed then, remembering how difficult it had been to face the man for days after that. Though he spoke not a word and gave no hint of what he’d witnessed, Clare knew. And she truly did not wish to repeat the situation, here in Ardgour House or at their house in Edinburgh or in her house that was now Samantha’s. The door opening drew her attention back and her breath held in her chest at the sight of him.
He’d not changed before leaving the ship, so he stood before her looking like a pirate—trousers so tight they outlined the muscles of his thighs, a white shirt with the laces hanging and the neckline open exposing the wide expanse of his chest and his black hair hanging loose and windblown. Leather boots that reached his knees encased his lower legs. Her hands itched to touch him, to trace her finger along the muscles and to run her hands through his hair and grab hold and pull him to her.
He had done this to her. He had freed her from inhibitions and limitations and allowed, nay encouraged, her desire for him. And he refused her nothing, whether pleasurable, impolite, or downright unspeakable. No touch, no taste, no act of joining their flesh was forbidden between them. Any request was honored between them. Her body trembled in anticipation of what magic he would weave between them as he closed the door behind him and dropped his bag on the floor.
Each step he took closer sent her blood heating and racing through her. The place between her legs ached. Her mouth went dry and by the time he stood within reach, Clare was so breathless that she could not help but fall into his arms.
“Lady Clare.” He wrapped his arms around her, holding her soft curves against his hard angles. “I have missed you.” His mouth lowered to hers, he thrust his tongue in, tasting her deeply. Clare raised her hands and slid them into his hair, clutching him and keeping his mouth on hers. He lifted his head and met her gaze. “Are you well?”
His hand slid down to cover her belly as he studied her face. Resting it there, he spread his fingers until they lay over the small but expanding bump. She released his hair and reached down to cover his hand with hers.
“I am well, my love,” she whispered. A hint of wonder filled her voice, for this was something she never thought she would experience. Each previous pregnancy had ended by this time, so Iain had convinced her to have a little hope. The slight movement under their hands, like the touch of a fluttering of wings within her, made her smile. “We are well.”
He laughed as he bent over and scooped her into his arms. Walking through the entryway to the grand staircase, he did not pause in carrying her up to their private apartments on the second floor. Someone had left the door ajar, and he did not pause as he opened it with his shoulder, swinging her carefully through, and then kicking the door closed.
He tossed her on the bed, taking a bit of care in his handling of her now, and watched as she slid back against the pile of pillows in front of the elaborate carved headboard.
“How were the seas?” she asked. Clare would not get many questions answered before he joined her in their bed, so she asked another. “And your business in Glasgow?”
He tugged the shirt over his head and threw it onto the floor near the foot of the bed. “You should join me in Glasgow next time, love. The building is next to the shipyard and it is magnificent to see.” He sat on the bench at the end of the bed and loosened his boots before working them down and off. “The seas were challenging. We ran into a storm coming back from Glasgow as we approached Oban and the loch. The winds were strong enough to blow us out past Mull, but we were able to steer into it and to the calm of the loch.”
He was aroused, aye, and still excited by the physical struggle against the storm and their success in bringing their ship through it. Clare understood this about him—she’d learned it when he’d revealed the lower level of The Cock’s Spur and its activities in that month before their wedding.
When she watched him fight, bare-knuckled and bare-footed, stripped down to his trousers, she was paralyzed with fear and anxiety seeing this Iain Buchanan, or rather Freddie Dubh in action. The façade torn away, the true man underneath was exposed in all his brutal, ruthless glory. And that was even more frightening.
Then her emotional reaction when he won his fight was a mix of arousal and terror and anger. She’d cried first, then swung at him, slamming her palms against his chest inconsequentially until her hands ached. Iain did not stop her. The passion that overwhelmed her did not seem to surprise him, and he allowed and then encouraged her to express it. And she did—ravaging his mouth until he carried her upstairs to a private chamber where she took the rest of him. It took some time to work the terror and excitement out of her body and soul.
Iain had that same expression in his eyes now as he made his way around the bed and stood staring at her with open desire and what she knew now was love. He let out a ragged breath as he spoke.
