The Draig's Woman Read Free

it. As Claire reached the threshold, Ian gently clasped her hand.
    “Your name, lass?” Ian asked as his eyes studied her face.
    Caught in his gaze, she had trouble remembering who she was. After managing to mumble it, she stumbled on her heels.
    “Claire,” Ian repeated with a small smile.
    It seemed to Claire as if Ian savored the sound of her name in his mouth, spilling them gently from his lips. She couldn’t stop staring at his lips. Enough! She knew she should go.
    Ian reached gently for her face. He moved very slowly, and his face inched closer to hers. She looked up at him, unsure of his intention. Ian leaned closer, gently brushing his lips against hers, just the softest of kisses.
    Delighting in the feel of his mouth against hers and the rush of sparks that shot through her limbs, Claire could only let the kiss blossom into something more, enjoying the tingly warmth it created. She was unable to stop her soft whimper as Ian broke the kiss. She found her cheek cupped in his warm hand and Ian tilting her head up so that he could see her. His soft smile was replaced by something different, an intense gaze that all but screamed raw sexual desire. She stepped back abruptly. She needed to leave.
    Appearing all too pleased with her response, he said, “Go back, Claire, with the knowledge you will always have my thanks.” Ian released her hand.
    She immediately missed the feel of his hand, even as her lips wanted more of what he had offered. Claire shook away the unbidden thoughts; she needed to get back home. She looked at the view of the parking lot and did not trust herself to speak. With a small smile, Claire handed Ian his dagger and stepped into the door, but nothing changed. The tall, budding trees were still there as the smell of fresh earth assaulted her senses. The feel of grass and small rocks under her feet were not the expected blacktop . Her heart pounded as she hoped she had simply done something wrong. Refusing to give up, Claire quickly turned back to try again and again. Nothing. There was no change in her surroundings. Her heart slammed against her chest as her way home failed. The door seemed a mirage with no solid footing in reality.
    A rustling noise in the trees came toward them and captured her attention. Ian’s voice came out in a harsh whisper. “Lass, get behind me. We tarried too long, and they are back.”
    The three men who entered the clearing were revolting; their hair was dirty and matted, and filth covered them from head to toe. They each wore coarse woven pants and were armed with swords. The surprise that their captive was free lasted only a moment. The man in front commanded, “Get the laird, or we lose our coin. And it was quite thoughtful of him to present us with a lass.” The other two laughed and moved in to circle Claire and Ian.
    Ian pushed Claire behind him. She wanted to argue that the small dagger he wielded was hardly appropriate against three men armed with swords, but she didn’t dare, as the three men circled and the leader gave instructions for her to be captured alive.
    As one of the men pulled her away from the shelter of Ian’s back, she cried out in protest. She ceased all struggle as cold steel pressed against her throat. Claire was aware of how she was being held, her back to the attacker’s front. She felt a sudden sense of confidence at the realization that there was no other grip on her and the attacker depended solely on the threat of the sword. Holding her arms up in surrender, she carefully placed one arm under her attacker’s arm that held the sword.
    Claire winced as the man bellowed in her ear, “Dinna stand there, fools, get him!”
    Taking advantage of the man’s distraction, Claire moved fast. The mock surrender became her attack. She grabbed his sword hand, twisting it away from her as she pivoted in the other direction. Her momentum corkscrewed the man to the ground. Using the energy of the move, the strength she’d always held back