Page 22 of Forever My Lass

Last night, when she’d brazenly sat upright in bed without a bed jacket, she’d obviously been puzzled, then amused, by his maid’s reaction. It was as if she found a bed jacket an unnecessary garment. Her curse had been even more startling. Even yesterday morning, when she’d stood in front of him in nothing but a nightgown, she’d shown no embarrassment about her appearance.

No, that wasn’t quite true. The instant she saw his fascination with her stiff nipples pressing into the damp bodice of her nightgown, her cheeks had filled with color. A rosy pink that had only emphasized the idea that one of the fae had landed in his home.

While her colorful speech last night had taken him aback, it was the clothing she’d been wearing when he’d pulled her from the water that intrigued him. It hadn’t simply been that she was dressed in men’s trousers. It was the type of fabric they were made of.

The pants were made of a denim unlike any he’d ever seen before. The American fabric had been created for miners almost forty years ago, but the denim used for miner clothing was a coarse, sturdy material. Madeline’s pants had been soft despite the water-logged garment’s weight.

Then there had been the strange corset she’d worn beneath her clothing. The sea had made her long-sleeved shirt cling to her skin, outlining the shape of the unusual undergarment supporting her breasts. Bridget McFayden hadn’t shown him the article of clothing after undressing Madeline, but the housekeeper had commented on the scandalous nature of her undergarments.

Everything she’d been wearing when he’d pulled her out of the water was the complete opposite of the clothing he’d found in the trunk that had washed up on shore. It had been reasonable to assume it belonged to her. But it wasn’t until she’d said her name was Madeline Whitworth that he’d been certain. The initials MW on the baggage’s plated latch convinced him the trunk was hers. The memory of finding two lace-edged corsets and other feminine undergarments in the baggage he’d briefly examined sent an image of Madeline dressed in nothing but a corset flashing through his head.

Iain closed his eyes as the vivid picture took hold of not only his mind, but his senses as well. It took only a second for him to imagine all the different ways to explore her body. The idea of sliding his mouth up along her leg to delve into the secrets at the apex of her thighs made his cock stir beneath his kilt. The imagery faded slightly as a knock on his study door echoed through the air. In a detached manner, he commanded the person outside the study to enter while he struggled to clear his head of his erotic imaginings about his mysterious guest.

“Am I disturbing you?”

The quiet question from across the room tightened his muscles. He’d already accepted that Madeline’s voice was one he’d recognize in the dark. The image that had faded from his head returned. The idea of how much he would enjoy hearing her voice in his bed at night was far too appealing.

Iain turned his head to see Madeline standing in the middle of his study. In the darkened room, the fire burning in the fireplace cast its light on her profile. The warm glow of firelight softened her features, and without thinking, his gaze focused on her mouth. Christ Jesus, if he’d thought her a fae yesterday in the hallway, today she resembled a siren. Was she disturbing him? It wasn’t a question he intended to answer. He rose from his chair to face her.

“You are feeling better?”

“Yes, although if I wasn’t, it wouldn’t be anyone’s fault but my own. I was an idiot to run around outside barefoot.” The wry twist of her lips drew his attention back to her mouth before he met her gaze again.

“Then I take it you are wearing shoes today,” he said wryly.

It wasn’t a question, but she immediately lifted one side of her gown to her knee. The moment she revealed a sleek, stocking-encased leg, his throat closed until it was difficult to breathe. Head bent as she twisted her foot back and forth to examine the shoe, she shook her head slightly.

“Yes, and surprisingly, they’re much more comfortable than they look.”

He barely heard her reply as he imagined his hand caressing her sleek calf as he slowly rolled the stocking off her long leg. The erotic images he’d banished from his thoughts only a moment ago returned in full-force. Last night, when she’d stated she could easily survive Armageddon, he’d been startled. Did the woman not know what a tantalizing creature she was?

She had the full hips, lush thighs, and legs that were made to wrap around a man. As his gaze had slowly run the length of her body and its full curves last night, he’d been sorely tempted to show her just how enticing her body was. He knew without a doubt this woman would make bed sport exciting and immensely pleasurable. The direction of his thoughts made his body harden everywhere.

As if suddenly aware of his intense assessment, she lifted her head to meet his gaze. Her eyes widening with surprise, a flush of pink rose in her cheeks, and she quickly straightened upright. In a split-second, the silk of her gown hid temptation from his view. His gaze locked with hers, and the flash of awareness in her brown eyes made him believe she wouldn’t object to his advances.

Iain suppressed a groan at the thought. God help him. He was definitely in trouble where this woman was concerned. With a gesture toward one of the chairs facing his desk, he silently encouraged her to take a seat. Arms folded across his chest, he watched her attempt to sit down in the chair closest to him. Frustration tugged her mouth into a thin line as she struggled with the bustle of her gown. It was as if she’d never worn one before, and he frowned with puzzlement.

She’d not had trouble yesterday morning, but then she’d been perched on the edge of her seat. It was unlikely the bustle, which was more like a small padded pillow, would have caused her any problem then. Madeline muttered something, and he was certain it was a much harsher oath than the one she’d used last night. He stepped forward and forced her to stand in front of the chair.

“Raise the back of your gown slightly beneath the bustle, here, then lift the back up as you sit down to avoid sitting on the feminine contraption.”

His hands pressed into her hips as he showed her how to manage the gown. With a sharp nod of irritation, Madeline’s fingers brushed across his as she gathered the material in her hands to follow his instructions. The instant she touched him, a bolt of electricity streaked up his arm. He flinched at the shock.

Fortunately, she was too distracted by her gown to notice his reaction. Relieved by her preoccupation, Iain took a quick step back, but not before the light scent of lavender filled his nostrils. It made him want to pull her against him so he could continue to breathe in the sweet smell. He quickly increased the distance between them even more and heard Madeline release a quiet sound of satisfaction as she sank down into the depth of the chair’s seat. She looked up at him and winced.

“This isn’t what I usually—” Her expression revealed she’d said she’d been about to reveal something she’d not meant to. The momentary hesitation made Iain lean forward slightly.

“It’s not something you usually wear.” The moment he finished her sentence in a sardonic voice, she winced.

“Something like that.”

“As I recall, you referenced the same fact last night after Eileen insisted you wear a bed jacket.”

When she didn’t answer, Iain arched his eyebrows as he waited for her to provide an explanation for her words. Instead, she averted her gaze and nibbled at her bottom lip. The action made him want to run his thumb across the bruised spot. Exasperated with the direction of his thoughts, he allowed her evasiveness to go unchallenged for the moment.

“I have news.”

“News?” She eyed him warily.