Chapter Two #2
“I'm not rude, lass; I would still offer you a ride, but it would end there.
If you agree to a well-deserved spanking, then you're agreeing to more than that.” She may as well know now that I wanted to spend time with her and get to know her better and her reasons for being here.
“Come with me. I will drive you to your hotel, and then we can go for dinner.
If your mind isn't made up by then that I'm not a criminal out to harm you, we will part ways amicably.”
After taking my photo and typing in my name, she sent it to a friend. I was happy she was finally thinking and taking her safety seriously. She called me, and when I answered, I asked her a question, using the phone as a device to hopefully set her at ease.
“Do I have your permission to take you on a date and show you around my home?”
“Home?”
“Aye, Scotland.”
She appeared to be considering my proposal, one could almost say waging an inner battle, while I fought my own war of what my next move would be if she said no.
I guess I could stop pushing and leave it at a ride and dinner, but my gut told me that if I won here and now, then the rest would be easy. It was all up to her.
“Yes, Artair, you have my permission, for now. If dinner and the ride aren't up to snuff, then the deal is off.”
I texted my driver and told him to stay in the parking lot and that I would come to him.
There was something in her response, and me taking her by the hand after shouldering her baggage, that felt right, and I wanted this first moment to last. My driver nodded to me when we arrived, calling me Sir, and opened the door for Luna, who hesitated to get in.
“Take his picture too, lass. His name is Graeme Erskine and can be easily found as employed by Lord Artair Grant McFarlane.”
Her mouth dropped open in that “O” I'd been dying to see, but it wasn't in pleasure as I'd desired, but in surprise.
She opted not to photograph Graeme and crawled into the vehicle instead.
I followed after her, pulling the seat belt across her lap and doing it up.
I opened the bar and poured her an ounce of whisky from the Isle of Islay. “Here, lass, this will warm you up.”
“Where to, Sir?” Graeme asked.
I looked at Luna. “Would you prefer to check in first, or have dinner?”
“I think I'd like to change into dry clothing, so check in first, please.” Her energy had done a complete 180. She was no longer antsy and shifting like at the airport before takeoff.
“Where are you staying?”
“Oh!” She giggled. “I don't know why I thought you knew. Uh, the Clayton Hotel on Clyde Street.”
“On it, Sir,” Graeme answered before I could give him further instructions.
She'd chosen downtown Glasgow instead of the west side, interesting. That ruled out her being a student. “Lass, can I ask, are you in Glasgow for business or pleasure?”
“Huh?” She pulled her gaze from the window to me, then blinked a few times as if she'd been very far away and was only now coming back to the present. “Pleasure?” She blushed. “Uh, I guess you could say that. I've always wanted to come here, and the timing was right.”
My antenna was up. What type of timing was the “right timing”?
It either involved money, or based on her age, she may have just finished school and needed a change of scenery, or perhaps someone died and left her some money to do what she wanted, and here she was.
I wouldn't push to know those reasons, as I felt confident the timing she'd alluded to would come to light, and it wasn't important; it was just my lawyer brain wanting to know every detail.
When we arrived, I hustled her inside and quickly upgraded her room, although she wasn't aware of that fact.
Scotland's version of a concierge and the multitude of brochures held her enthralled near the entrance.
When check-in was complete, I took her hand and escorted her to the top floor where her suite awaited.
Her lips parted in such a delicious way when the door opened, and she got her first glimpse of the inside.
I was imagining those sexy full lips wrapped around my cock.
She raced to the window and threw back the curtains. “Look!” she cried excitedly. “It's the River Clyde!”
I placed her bag down and joined her. “That it is, lass. Did you know that up until a hundred years ago, men bathed in that river?”
“Seriously? Were there no showers?”
I was only thirty-six, but her question reminded me there was definitely an age gap between us. “Aye, there were restrooms, but they were mostly shared. Back then, men were safe to come to the river once a week at a specific time to bathe.”
“What about women? Did they have a special day too?”
Dare I tell her that the laundresses could use the same river to do laundry but did not have a day specifically set aside to do their own bathing?
Nope! The very idea that women didn't have the same rights to bathe as the men would definitely piss her off and get her riled up.
One thing I'd learned about North American women, despite having darker desires to be dominated in the bedroom, in no way did they appreciate how women had been treated historically.
It was best to steer clear of that conversation, or at least leave it for another day when she wasn't riding the wave of exhaustion.
“Why don't you change, lass, and I'll take you to dinner?”
“Right! I almost forgot.” She unzipped her bag and dug through until she found a pair of slacks and a sweater, definitely better for the cool evening, and with another bag in her hand, went off to get changed.
“Oh my god!”
I raced down the hall to the bathroom and pounded on the locked door, on high alert, and fearing she'd hurt herself.
“Luna, open the door!”
She did, wearing a huge grin. “Look at the tub, Artair, I can't wait to try it.”
“You screamed over a tub?”
She looked down at the floor, her smile disappearing.
“Way to go, idiot; now she's closed up again.”
“I'm surprised you didn't shout louder; I mean, look at that view!” I said, shifting the dialogue to a positive.
Her head snapped up, the smile returning. “Right? I'm so excited to be here. They must have upgraded me because I'm sure I didn't book one of these.”
Again, not a conversation to have now, or maybe at all. “I've heard it's like seats on planes; if they like you and they have availability, they'll upgrade you. Now, finish getting ready. I need to make a call.”
“Okay.” She closed the door.
I placed a call to The Buttery and reserved a private dining room.
A quick look at the weather conditions outside told me the rain had stopped.
With the restaurant only about a mile from the hotel, walking after sitting for so many hours seemed appropriate, and I messaged Graeme with instructions to collect us from The Buttery at 10 pm.
I had no doubt that after a full belly, Little Luna would be tired and in need of sleep by then.