Regardless, there was nothing pressing in my schedule, allowing me time to devote to showing her Scotland's hidden gems. A loud crash, followed by a forceful “ouch!” pulled me from my musings.
Luna was down for the count, a piece of luggage on the floor beside her. I could tell by the look she gave me that she was angry and had passed her limit some time ago. She glared up at me and the flight attendant beside me, who'd been hovering too close since I boarded the plane. Little Luna was jealous, and I'dbe a liar if I said it didn't please me. She'd felt something for me, attraction most likely. Turning that interest into a deep-seated, passionate need was on my new to-do list—a list that had Luna as a top priority.
“All you had to do was ask, lass,” I said, handing her the heavy bag from the overhead compartment. I spoke quietly enough, but her stiffened shoulders spoke volumes. When she crossed her arms, wearing an adorable pout, my palm itched to spank her naughty bottom and have her lips part in an “O” as I pleasured her instead.
“Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't want to interrupt the good time you were having.” She quickly uncrossed her arms and pressed them down her sides. Her eyes turned glassy as she fought back tears. Whatever internal battle she'd been waging to get here was about to get the better of her. I didn't chase her when she pushed past everyone to get to the front of the plane and the exit door.
I watched from the stairs as she raced across the tarmac without a jacket, and I swore I'd punish her for not taking care of herself. With my long strides, I soon caught up to her and remained a few places back in line as we passed through customs.
My heart ached when I saw the defeat and indecision in her eyes as she took in the weather and the lack of transport. Although the weather was typical for the Scottish born, being September Stateside, it was relatively warm in most places, and she'd clearly come from one of those.
Time for me to come to her rescue, whether she wanted my help or not. When I approached her, she acted like a brat—no surprise, as I was sure acting bratty was her modus operandi when she was overwhelmed.
She might not know it, but the light was behind us and shone in her eyes despite the gray day. The moving clouds reflectedthere were a clear reminder of how stormy her feelings were at the moment.
“How do I know it's safe? I mean, how do I know you won't hurt me?”
“Oh, I'll most certainly hurt you, but not in the way you're imagining. Did you know that when one's arse has been striped with a belt and the blood flows to that area, the entire body heats up?” Being upfront was the only way to push through her defenses, and I had no compunction about being honest with her.
“You mean you're going to spank me?”
“Oh, most definitely.” I smirked at the look of desire in those beautiful blue pools.
With the redirection of her thoughts, she appeared to settle and consider my words. “What if I don't want you to?” she asked, with a hint of challenge in her eyes.
Was she really trying to challenge me? Adorable!
“I'd call you a liar.”
Her gasp was audible, even in the stormy weather with a host of chattering Scots surrounding us.
“By agreeing to the offer of a ride, am I also agreeing to be spanked?”
“I'm not rude, lass; I would still offer you a ride, but it would end there. If you agree to a well-deserved spanking, then you're agreeing to more than that.” She may as well know now that I wanted to spend time with her and get to know her better and her reasons for being here. “Come with me. I will drive you to your hotel, and then we can go for dinner. If your mind isn't made up by then that I'm not a criminal out to harm you, we will part ways amicably.”
After taking my photo and typing in my name, she sent it to a friend. I was happy she was finally thinking and taking her safety seriously. She called me, and when I answered, I asked hera question, using the phone as a device to hopefully set her at ease.
“Do I have your permission to take you on a date and show you around my home?”
“Home?”
“Aye, Scotland.”
She appeared to be considering my proposal, one could almost say waging an inner battle, while I fought my own war of what my next move would be if she said no. I guess I could stop pushing and leave it at a ride and dinner, but my gut told me that if I won here and now, then the rest would be easy. It was all up to her.
“Yes, Artair, you have my permission, for now. If dinner and the ride aren't up to snuff, then the deal is off.”
I texted my driver and told him to stay in the parking lot and that I would come to him. There was something in her response, and me taking her by the hand after shouldering her baggage, that felt right, and I wanted this first moment to last. My driver nodded to me when we arrived, calling me Sir, and opened the door for Luna, who hesitated to get in.
“Take his picture too, lass. His name is Graeme Erskine and can be easily found as employed by Lord Artair Grant McFarlane.”
Her mouth dropped open in that “O” I'd been dying to see, but it wasn't in pleasure as I'd desired, but in surprise. She opted not to photograph Graeme and crawled into the vehicle instead. I followed after her, pulling the seat belt across her lap and doing it up. I opened the bar and poured her an ounce of whisky from the Isle of Islay. “Here, lass, this will warm you up.”
“Where to, Sir?” Graeme asked.
I looked at Luna. “Would you prefer to check in first, or have dinner?”
“I think I'd like to change into dry clothing, so check in first, please.” Her energy had done a complete 180. She was no longer antsy and shifting like at the airport before takeoff.
