“Nonsense. I am sure that the staff will be more than happy to have someone around here that kens what they are doing.” He leaned in close and whispered. “I havena a clue and it frustrates them.”
“I am certain you are not that bad,” she giggled.
He shrugged his shoulders. “No need to take my word for it, ye can ask any of them. They will all say the same thing. Come, we’ll start on the first floor.”
She followed him from room to room as he explained which was which. There were far too many rooms for her to remember and she would need to spend some time with the main servant to get her bearings. That is if they were going to remain here. Perhaps they would visit often? She was unsure. They were supposed to leave for Scotland on the morrow, so maybe she wouldn’t have to expend too much energy on this property. Clearly the staff were more than capable. It had been running smoothly for quite some time without her factoring into the equation.
Upstairs, Christopher paused in front of a set of double doors. “I have saved the best for last,” he said, winking, then pushed the doors open.
Her breath caught in her throat. It was Christopher’s master chamber. A huge space that fit his personality perfectly. The wood-paneled room was decorated in several shades of blue, all melding together into a perfect palette.
A large bed, made with the fluffiest linens she’d ever seen, called to her. She smiled as a wicked plan entered into her mind. Walking further into the room, she neared the bed before turning to and crooking her finger to Christopher.
“I think it is a good choice to show this room last.”
“Is that so?” He quipped as he came closer.
“Yes. Because surely you must know that I don’t want to leave this room.”
His eyes flared, and his fingers tugged at his cravat. “I still have your chambers to show ye. So, this isn’t the actual last room for ye to see.”
She dropped on the bed, her hands gliding along the linen of the duvet. “But it is the most important one. And one I have no interest in leaving any time soon.” She patted the mattress beside her, inviting him to join her.”
In a flash, Christopher sat down, the mattress dipping under his weight, causing her to lean into him.
“Did ye still want that drink, lass?” He asked quietly.
“Oh, I am parched, husband,” she drawled out the word husband. The sound odd on her tongue. “But not for drink.” She licked her lips and smiled as his eyes dropped to her mouth.
“Ye are a vixen,” he accused playfully, pulling her onto his lap, and nipped at her lips.
She giggled. “You bring that out in me. No one else has ever had such an effect.”
“No one?” He lifted a brow in question, and she knew he was referring to Harold.
“That was not like this. I was young then. I’ve grown and matured.”
He looked at her as if he were starving. “Grown indeed, lass.”
Grinding her hips, she elicited a groan from Christopher. She felt powerful. Fearless. She hopped off his lap and turned, looking at him over her shoulder. “Undo my buttons?” She asked sultrily.
“Gladly.” He jumped up from the bed, his fingers making quick work of the numerous buttons on her gown. His lips kissing each inch of bare skin that was revealed with each release.
The cool air, replaced by his warm lips had her shivering, but not from the cold.
Desire was the only thing she felt. Deep down, it burned through her veins.
“All unbuttoned, lass,” he murmured, his voice husky.
She turned, clutching her gown to her chest. She wanted Christopher’s eyes on her when she let the material go, revealing herself to him.
His dark eyes followed her hands, watching her every move.
Letting the gown fall, exposing her breasts, his eyes blew wide, his tongue darting out of the corner of his mouth.
“Ye are the most beautiful thing I have e’er seen,” he confessed softly, reaching up a hand to cup her breast, flicking his thumb over the turgid nipple.
She hissed at the contact and stepped out of the pool of material that had gathered at her feet. She removed the rest of her clothing until she stood, completely naked in front of him. Confident in her body, her nakedness wasn’t anything she was ashamed of.
