Her Irish Rogue

She was a guest, after all. And though she certainly had enjoyed what had gone on as much as he had, there was something slightly naughty about it as well. Hell, she’d made the first move with all her talk about baseball, so he had no reason to feel guilty.

Fifteen minutes passed before Claire emerged from the examining room. Annie followed close behind. “She’s fine,” the nurse said, handing Will his jumper. “No broken bones that I can see, but I’ll have a consult with Dr. Reilly tomorrow and if he finds anything, he’ll ring you up. For the evening, keep ice on it and don’t be turnin’ any handsprings, dear.”

“Thank you,” Claire said. “And you’ll send me the bill at the inn?”

“I’ll take care of that,” Will said. “Don’t worry.”

By the time they got back to the inn, Will could see Claire was in a considerable amount of discomfort. He walked her up to her room and then went back downstairs to change and fetch whatever pain medication he had on hand. When he got back to her room, he found her standing in front of the fireplace, struggling with the zipper on her pants.

“I can’t get them off,” she muttered, staring down at the mud-stained corduroy.

“Here, then, let me help.” He tossed the bottles on the bed then crossed the room to stand in front of her. At first, Will wasn’t sure how he ought to go about undressing Claire. In the end, he decided to try to remain as impassive as possible. He reached for the zipper and pulled it down, then slipped his palms beneath the waistband and skimmed the pants over her hips.

Will had undressed a fair number of women and had always enjoyed it. But the simple act of helping Claire out of her muddy clothes was charged with a current that made touching her electric.

He’d forgotten to remove her shoes and socks first, so he bent down and worked at the laces, grateful that he had something to turn his attention to besides her long, shapely legs…and the skimpy pair of panties she wore.

Claire picked up her foot, then lost her balance and swayed into him until the lace of her panties pressed against his chin. Will swallowed a groan and tried to ignore the activity going on inside his jeans. Maybe it would have been best to let her struggle on her own.

When he’d finally managed to yank off one shoe, he turned to the other. But when he grabbed Claire’s ankle, she lost her balance completely and tumbled forward. Will wrapped his arms around her waist and softened her fall onto the carpet with his body. They lay together for a long moment in a tangle of limbs.

Claire stared down into his eyes, her pale hair tickling at his cheeks. Her pants were twisted around her ankles and Will was keenly aware of his arousal pressing between them. She shifted slightly, the silky fabric of her panties sliding against the front of his jeans.

A tiny smile teased at her lips as she deliberately moved against him. “What’s that all about?” she whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I was hoping you could tell me,” Will replied. “You’re the one who caused it.”

“And am I responsible for getting rid of it?” she asked.

“Getting rid of it seems a bit harsh,” Will said. “Maybe if we lie here for a moment we’ll figure out how to make it go away.”

Claire wrapped her good arm around his neck, then rolled off of him, pulling Will on top of her until their contact was even more intimate. Slowly, she began to move beneath him, in a tempting rhythm that did nothing to relieve his situation.

This was crazy, Will thought to himself. They’d only just met, yet there was an attraction between them, a desire that burned with greater intensity every time they touched. He closed his eyes, losing himself in the sensations coursing through his body. He’d enjoy it for just a moment and then, he’d do the sensible thing and leave the room.

But as he rocked against her, Will realized his need had completely overtaken his common sense. It felt good, as good as the first time he’d experienced it as a teenager, this overwhelming need for release at any cost.

Will furrowed his fingers through her hair and kissed her, gently at first, then more desperately as his desire became more acute. She was beautiful and exciting and irresistible and he couldn’t seem to get enough of her. But she was also a complete stranger and a guest in his inn.

He drew a deep breath and stopped, then rolled off of her. Covering his eyes with his arm, Will moaned. “This is crazy. We have to stop this.” It was Sorcha’s fault. She’d put all these ideas into his head and now he was acting on them.

Claire sat up and brushed the hair out of her eyes, then kicked off her pants. “I didn’t start it,” she murmured.

A laugh escaped his throat. “Yes, you did. What’s that all about? That’s what you said.”

“I was asking a question.” She tossed her muddy pants into the corner, then stood and yanked off her jumper, throwing that aside as well. She stood over him in just a T-shirt and her underwear. “I think I’ll take a bath.”

“Are you resolved to torture me?” Will asked, staring up at her.

She studied him for a long moment, then shook her head. “I have no idea what I’m doing. As soon as I do, I’ll let you know.”

With that, Claire walked into the bathroom and shut the door behind her. A few moments later, Will heard the water hit the tub. He closed his eyes again and imagined her stripping off the remainder of her clothes and stepping into the warm water.

Once Claire had settled in for the evening, he’d find Sorcha straight away and insist that she remove whatever spells were still pending. How the hell was he supposed to resist this woman when she did absolutely nothing to resist him? Sorcha would fix it. And after that, he’d certainly be able to control this desperate need he had to seduce Claire O’Connor.

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