Temptation
“May I?” she whispered as she put her hands on his chest.
At that he gave a laugh that she could feel under her hands. Slowly at first and shyly, she moved her hands downward. But when he put his big warm hand inside her cold wet blouse and touched the tops of her breasts, she lost a lot of her shyness. She had an irresistible urge to feel her skin against his.
Quickly, with urgency, she tugged his shirt out of his kilt, then pushed upward on it. With another soft sound of pleasure, he lifted his arms and let her slide her hands under his shirt, up his big warm, muscular arms, as far as she could reach. When she could go no further, he pulled the big shirt off over his head and dropped it on the hearth.
Temperance stared at his bare chest for a moment, then slowly ran her hand over him. He was beautiful, with dark skin and black hair curling softly across his wide chest. Tentatively, she ran her hand from his neck down his rib cage to his waist; then she moved across to his warm, flat belly and held her hand there as she looked up at him.
No man had ever looked at her as he was doing now, not with the intensity that she saw in James McCairn’s eyes, and if a man had looked at her like that before, she would have run the opposite way. But not now. Now she smiled at him, and she had an idea that she had the same intensity in her eyes that he had.
In the next moment James again swept her into his arms and twirled her about in sheer joy.
And Temperance’s laughter mingled with his. She was old enough and experienced enough in the ways of the world to now be able to see that they had wanted each other from their first meeting. And their laughter was the release of a great deal of pent-up desire.
When James dropped her down onto the bed, Temperance laughed in delight. She bounced once when she hit the sheepskin straps that held up the mattress, and this caused more laughter. The next moment James was beside her, and she snuggled down beside him, her head on his one arm, allowing his other arm freedom to finish undressing her.
He took his time. He didn’t tear her clothes or hurry the lovely process of undressing her. Instead he gently pulled her blouse out of her skirt and finished with the buttons. Gently, he removed her arms from the sleeves, then unfastened her skirt.
All the while Temperance lay still, looking up at him, at his strong, chiseled profile, at his dark hair. He mostly kept his eyes on the undressing of her, but when he did look at her, the glint in those dark eyes made her heart leap to her throat and pound hard.
They didn’t say a word to each other. But then they had done nothing but talk for the entire time of her stay in McCairn. And all that time, she thought, this is what we really wanted to do. Putting her hand up to his cheek, she caressed it. Every night at dinner she had seen that jawline and had wanted to know what it felt like.
He was an expert at undressing her, and it seemed that within just seconds she was down to her lace-and-cotton one-piece undergarment. Only this thin fabric covered her skin.
He slowly and gently slipped first one strap, then the other down over her shoulders, and his lips kissed the tops of her shoulders as he bared the skin. The tiny buttons down the front of the one-piece garment went next, and his face followed his hands, kissing all the way down. When he reached her belly, she drew in her breath at the pleasure of the sensation he was causing in her.
When he parted the garment and exposed her breasts, for a moment Temperance almost turned coward and fled.
He must have sensed her fear because he withdrew his hand and put his lips back on hers to calm her. Tiny kisses, feathery kisses, little butterfly kisses, he placed all over her face and down her neck.
The second time he parted her garment, she wasn’t afraid. And when his hand touched her breast, she trembled.
“No idea,” she whispered. “I had no idea at all.”
She could feel him smiling, his lips against her breasts, and the thought that she was giving him pleasure made her feel even better.
He took the tip of her breast into his mouth and sucked gently, and it was when he was on the second breast that Temperance wanted less gentleness and more . . . She didn’t have the experience to know what she wanted, but it was more.
She meant to lift his head to her face, but instead she grabbed his hair and brought his lips to hers, and when she kissed him, it was with an open mouth.
Later Temperance wasn’t sure what she’d done, but something seemed to make James lose control. One minute all he seemed able to think of was giving her pleasure, but the next moment it seemed as though he could no longer control himself.
His wet kilt, the scratchy wool so exciting against her bare skin, came off with a quick, one-handed twist, and in a second he was totally nude.
“Now I see why you Scotsmen wear kilts,” she said with a smile as he moved on top of her.
But James was not smiling. His senses were too on fire for him to be able to speak.
Because of her vast experience with such matters, Temperance had thought she knew exactly what the sex act was like. She’d certainly heard it described often enough. And her response to every description had been to give a lecture about birth control and “resistance.”
But now she knew that she had never known anything about lovemaking. Right now she could no more have stopped herself than she could have stopped a runaway elephant.
When James entered her, she gasped, and for a moment the pain was all that occupied her mind. Looking up at him, she saw the strain on his face as he used every bit of control he had to halt himself and wait until her pain subsided. She knew it was going to hurt more, but she gave him a tiny nod and he entered her fully.
For a moment he lay still and she adjusted to him; then, after a few long moments, she began to move under him.
That was all the permission James needed to start making long, slow, deep strokes within her, and after a few awkward movements, Temperance understood what she needed to do and she began to move with him.
His hands were on her body, stroking her, caressing her skin, and they were working together in an age-old way. “As we always work together,” she said softly, and felt James lips smile against her neck.
She wasn’t prepared for the pressure building within her; she hadn’t expected that. She had her head back and her eyes closed, but once she glanced up and saw that James was watching her. He was waiting for something, but she had no idea what. And her pleasure at his deep, slow strokes was too overpowering to be able to think clearly.
It was when the pressure started that she opened her eyes and looked at him in surprise. And, by the expression on his beautiful face, she knew that that’s what he’d been waiting for.
His slow strokes became faster, then faster, then deeper and deeper. Temperance could hear her own small screams as he seemed to hit something deep within her.
When the explosion came, she opened her mouth to scream, but James collapsed on top of her, his neck covering her mouth as her body went into convulsions. Wave after wave of pleasure ran through her.
It was a long while before she became aware of her surroundings. James rolled off of her but still held her very close with one arm as he pulled a couple of big sheepskins over the two of them.
Their skin was sweaty, and Temperance had never felt so deliciously relaxed in her life. She snuggled against his shoulder and kissed him.
“Not yet,” he said. “Give me a moment.”
At first Temperance didn’t know what he meant; then she laughed and quit kissing.
“I always wondered about this part,” she said, looking across him to the fire.
“And what did you wonder?”
“I thought that afterward the two people would be terribly embarrassed. After all, they had just acted in what is, basically, an animalistic way.”
“And what do you think now?” James asked softly as he stroked her damp hair back from her forehead.
“This is almost the best part,” she said, and when he looked at her, she smiled and said, “Almost.”
Feeling warm and happy and safe, Temperance drifted into that state that is neither awake nor asleep.
“All right,” James said quietly, his hand on her hair. “I’m going to give you what you want.”
Temperance smiled, her eyes closed. “I think you just did, but you can give me more if you’d like,” she said, then smiled more broadly. She’d just made one of those little jokes that lovers share.
“I’m going to ask you to marry me.”
“Mmmm?” she asked, moving her leg against his.
She felt James let out a sigh, as though he were admitting defeat. “I’ve decided that I’m going to give in to you and ask you to marry me.”
Temperance lay still for several moments. She was too warm and felt too good to understand words. “What did you say?”
“I said I’m going to allow you to marry me. You win.”
Temperance lifted her head to look at him. “Whatever are you saying? You’re going to give in to me?”
“Yes. I’ve decided.”
She drew back further. “To marry me? Is that what you’ve decided?”
Smiling, James lifted his head and kissed her nose.
Temperance was blinking at him. “You’ll marry me? Is this the consolation prize?”
Putting his hand behind his head, James looked up at the ceiling. “I know you were sent here by my uncle to marry me, and although I’ve tried to resist, I’m now going to admit defeat and marry you.”
For several moments Temperance said nothing. Had he known her better, James would have known what her silence meant. “You are, are you?” she said softly. “You’re going to . . . what was it? Admit defeat and marry me?”
James looked at her in surprise. “Are you getting angry?”
“Ah, now there’s a brilliant remark. Am I getting angry? No, I am getting furious,” she said as she grabbed her blouse off the foot of the bed and held it over her bare breasts. “I am in a rage. Truthfully, I don’t think there’s a word to describe what I’m feeling,” she said as she got off the bed, clutching a sheepskin as she stood.
“What in hell are you talking about?” James said, coming up on his elbow. “You came here to—”
“To find you a bride,” she shouted, then clamped her mouth shut.
He sat there blinking at her. “You did what?”
“Nothing. I didn’t say anything.” Grabbing her skirt, she started trying to dress while keeping her body hidden.
For a moment, James looked at her hard. “My uncle sent you here to find a bride for me, didn’t he?” he said at last. “That’s who those two women were, weren’t they? I see. The first one was beautiful but brainless. Is that what you assumed I’d want?”
“I didn’t know you then, and—” Even to her own ears, Temperance’s voice was full of guilt.
“The second woman said she thought I wanted help delivering sheep. Did you write my uncle after that first day when we delivered the lambs and tell him you wanted an athletic woman?”
Pausing in her dressing, Temperance opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.
“So that’s your big secret,” he said at last as he lay back on the bed. “I knew there was one, but fool that I was, I thought that you were the one my uncle sent. No, all of us of Clan McCairn were just something to occupy you, a toy for you to play with, weren’t we? So, what’s your true story? What hold does my uncle have over you?”
When Temperance kept dressing and didn’t answer him, he turned his head and glared at her. “Come on, there’s no reason to be shy, not after what you and I’ve just shared. Maybe I can help you. Since you’ve taken away Grace from me and I doubt if you’ll agree to becoming her replacement, maybe I will get married. But what’s in it for you?”
Temperance didn’t want to lie anymore. “Your uncle married my mother and he has control of the money my father left me,” she said quickly.
“I see. So he told you that if you could find a wife for his lonely nephew, he’d give you back your money.”
“An allowance,” she said as she fastened her skirt. She was still angry at Angus McCairn for the position he’d put her in.
“I see,” James said.
Suddenly, Temperance’s head came up. “Wait a minute,” she said, glaring at him, but he was staring at the ceiling and not looking at her. “If all this time you’ve thought that I was sent here to marry you, then you’ve thought that everything I did was toward that goal.” She was staring at his profile as she thought about this. “All the lunches, the roller skates, and Grace! You must have thought that I gave Grace a job to take away my competition, so to speak.”
Temperance’s hands clenched into fists. “You are despicable! You’re like all the other men in the world: you think that all women are after you. For what? What woman would want to take on you and your bad temper and this poverty-stricken near-island? Do you have any idea how hard my mother is working to find women who will even visit this place? She can’t get a Scotswoman to come here because they’ve heard of it. Clan McCairn is a joke to this whole country!”
James turned his head to look at her, and his eyes were a cold black that she’d never seen before. “I think you’ve said enough.”
But Temperance had never backed down from an argument before and she wasn’t going to now. “No, I haven’t. When I think of what you’ve thought of me all these weeks, that I was doing everything to try to catch you. I could never say enough!”
At that James sat up on the bed, the sheepskins falling to his waist, exposing his bare chest. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, calm even. “No, instead, you were occupying yourself, weren’t you? You were just keeping yourself from being bored. What do you think is going to happen to these children after you leave? They’ll never again be content to live here and accept discipline. Already I’ve heard three children say that when they reach fourteen, they’re going to run away to the mainland and get a job so they can buy skates and oranges and chocolates. And what happens to the hat business when you leave? You think Grace has the confidence to wheel and deal with those buyers? No, of course not. I think, Miss Temperance O’Neil, that you may have just murdered Clan McCairn more effectively than centuries of my family’s gambling ever did.”
Temperance opened her mouth to reply to his accusation, but at that moment the door flew open, as though someone had pushed it open. For a moment both she and James looked at the door in anticipation, expecting someone to enter, but no one did.
The retort that Temperance had been about to make died on her lips. “I think we both know where we now stand,” she said softly. “I will leave McCairn in the morning.”
“And go live with my uncle? And make his life hell?”
“I—” Temperance began but could think of nothing else to say. What should have been the most beautiful night of her life had turned into her worst nightmare.
Picking his kilt up off the floor, James fastened it about his waist before getting off the bed. He closed the door, then went to stand by the fireplace and stare into the flames for a moment. “Things have been said tonight that should not have been said.” When Temperance did not respond, he continued. “And I think that things have happened tonight that shouldn’t have happened. Do you agree?”
“Yes,” she said, her voice hoarse as she said it. She’d never meant to hurt him. Why had she said such dreadful things about McCairn? She didn’t feel that the place was horrible. In fact, she had been growing rather fond of it, at least until the last few days, that is.
“I’ll not marry again,” James said softly. “That I can guarantee you. Not after what has happened tonight. I shamed myself before you, and I apologize.”
“You didn’t . . .” she began, but when she saw his back stiffen, she closed her mouth.
After a while James turned to look at her. “I know my uncle. Once he makes a decree, he’ll stand by it no matter what anyone says. He’ll not give you your freedom unless you find me a wife, and since I won’t marry, you seem to
have a choice of living with him or here on McCairn. Which will it be?”
“I want . . .” Temperance began, but she honestly couldn’t say what it was that she wanted. Part of her wanted to go back to New York and fight this usurper who was trying to take over the campaign that she had started. But the other part wanted to see if she could make a go of the House of Grace. And there was Lilias’s liqueur and Brenda’s stories and, of course, there were the children.
“Can’t ye reach a decision?” James said impatiently. “Are we that repulsive to you? Or can you not abide working for someone who’s the laughingstock of all Scotland?”
Already, Temperance regretted having said that. Her mother had always told her to think before she spoke, but she never seemed able to do that.
But the words had been said, and she couldn’t take them back. The choices in her life didn’t include returning to her work in New York. To live forever under Angus McCairn’s rule or in McCairn itself?
“My uncle is an old man,” James said through tight lips. “Perhaps he’ll die soon and you’ll be released from your devil’s bargain.”
“The man is my mother’s husband,” Temperance shot back at him. “And for all that I dislike him, she seems to . . .” She almost choked on the word. “My mother seems to care for him. I don’t wish for his death.”
“It’s not up to you, is it? So which is it? Do you stay here or return?”
“Stay,” she said, then found that there was relief inside her at the thought.
But as far as Temperance could see, there was no expression on James’s face, and she wondered if he wished that she’d leave McCairn forever.
“All right, then I suggest that we get out of here. There’ll be enough talk as it is,” he said as he pulled his shirt over his head. After pouring a bucket of sand over the fire, he walked to the door, then stepped back so she could go before him. “I suggest that we forget this night,” he said once they were outside the cottage. “Forget what was said, forget what was done.”
“Yes,” Temperance said, looking up at the moonlight. But how was she going to forget?