Free The Draig's Woman by Lisa Dawn Wadler

declaration. Greed in your eyes . For just a moment, she was all too certain she could provide the look of hunger he wanted. He awoke longings that she didn’t expect or quite know how to handle.
    Her rational mind pushed aside the lust-inspired thoughts as she remembered her goal was to not have sex with him to save their lives. “What you said about where we position ourselves makes sense. I can work with that.”
    “Your agreement surprises me. I feared having to convince you of the need for this, for you and me to be together. Claire, I meant what I said. I would have preferred this to be because of want and nay necessity.”
    She looked Ian in the face and only the face, glad for the dim light. She didn’t want to look at him, not like this—naked, sitting on the bed, waiting for her, half bathed in the light of the dying fire. Claire moved to the bed, and on her knees, made her way toward him. While moving to sit on his extended legs, Claire held the hand that would have removed the sheet. His look of shock was priceless.
    “Ian, we are going to pretend. I can’t really just . . . I can’t, and there is no reason to. We need to appear like we are, well you know, not actually . . . um . . . well . . . you get what I am saying, right?”
    In a daze, Ian nodded. “Aye, lass, I see your plan. Forgive me, as the thought should have been mine. I am a fool for nay thinking of this.” He held his hands out to her and held her by the waist and then set her down facing him. With her legs parted, she now rested on his thighs. He felt her tremble from the contact of their skin, and he struggled as he felt only the heat between them. Her hands moved to the laces of the shirt she wore, but his hands stopped her motion. He said gently, “Nay, I dinna wish them to see you.”
    Her motion and words stunned him. Claire removed his hands and continued to untie the laces. “If they are looking at me, they may not be looking at you.” With that said, she removed the shirt. Her eyes came up to meet his. Even in the dim light, a blind man could have seen the blush covering her cheeks. Ian tried to stay focused on her eyes, but the temptation proved too great. He looked at what had just been revealed. He had touched her, but her clothes were still on. He had not seen her, not like this. Suddenly, Ian wished for a hundred torches. He wished to see every inch of her, not just the outline the dying fire left for his vision. Even in the dim light, his eyes feasted on her. Her clear skin, long strong legs tucked against him, the curve of her hips, and breasts firm and full greeted his eyes. Never had he seen such a vision. Claire was perfection.
    Ian’s hands settled on each side of her waist. He could feel her skin, as soft as silk. His thumbs moved in slow circles with hands hesitant to break this moment. Finally, he pulled the sheet to cover the view from the door. Any entering would see their hips wrapped in a sheet and hopefully never know the rest. He gritted his teeth as the space between their bodies grew smaller. Never in his life had he known such temptation.
    She moved closer to him and placed trembling hands on his shoulders. Face to face, they looked at one another. Their upper bodies were not quite touching.
    “Do you think this will work? What do you need me to do with my hair to help hide you?” Her voice shook with the softly spoken question.
    Running his fingers through it, he fanned it out over her back and shoulders. It was a slow movement, as he was simply enjoying the feel of her soft tresses. Moving his face down to her neck, his mouth just below her ear, he whispered, “Perfect, I can see the door and keep myself tucked away from sight.” He felt her sigh as his lips brushed her neck. Ian inhaled deeply and said, “Even now, you smell like sweet summer berries.” Her small nervous laugh lit a fire deep in his belly.
    Ian shifted to face her. His hand touched her cheek, a simple gesture with just the back