Chapter 19
NINETEEN
CLAIMING
Ella
I packed for my visit home with nerves guiding my every move. Gordain was there. Waiting for me. Holy fuck. We were happening.
Tossing clothes haphazardly into my bag, I ignored the bonging of my laptop, producing reminders for actions I hadn’t taken. And wouldn’t take.
Going away this weekend left me in a bit of a pickle with university. Despite the excellent term I’d had so far, with my shift in focus to recording and all the huge advances I’d made in that area, I was still supposed to have another performance piece underway.
The deadline was next Friday—seven days’ time.
I hadn’t even joined a group.
Professor Maran had emailed me to insist I give her an update—the title of the piece I’d be performing, or the people I was working with, at least.
I hadn’t answered.
See, not only had I gotten the bug for recording again, I was writing. Endlessly. Which left little time for anything else.
Last summer, Marianne, the lady of Braithar Castle, had suggested I ditch the bits of the course I wasn’t interested in, but could I really just not show up? Piss off the woman responsible for a big chunk of my overall mark? It could mean she failed me for the year.
I needed to work out how much I cared.
I dropped my gaze to my bag, flipping in sleeves of a shirt that was making an escape bid. I’d made my decision. This weekend was the last chance I had to realistically hit that target.
And I was using the time to go see Gordain.
He was more important. How he made me feel outranked my final mark for the year. A grade that meant nothing if I didn’t intend to apply for jobs with other people.
Leaning over, I snatched the new underwear I’d bought and stuffed it into the bottom of the bag. It was time to get this show on the road.
My sister-in-law waited on the steps of Belvedere, Sebastian in her arms. I flung myself out of the car then ran to them, kissing Beth on the cheek.
“How’s my nephew? Gimme!” I grinned like a crazy lady, scooping the baby up in a hug. “You’re getting so big! Look at all this dark hair. You’re so beautiful,” I babbled.
Beth chuckled. “He’s smiling at you! He’s only just started doing that.”
“You’re so clever,” I told the baby then peered at his mother. Her pregnancy had been the worst, so seeing her up and walking around took a big weight off my mind.
“How are you feeling?” I asked gently.
“A million times better now the puking has stopped. I need to nap a lot but I think that’s normal. Who knew pregnancy could be so hard?”
“I am never, ever having babies.” I shuddered.
Beth blew out a breath. “Sounds good to me. It isn’t all sunshine and unicorn dust. Now, come in.
James and Gordain are waiting for you upstairs.
They’ve been working hard on getting your rooms ready and are just finishing up.
” She tipped her head, curiosity in her looks.
“Gordain mentioned something. He stood up after dinner the first night he was here and said you’d been dating.
Like it was a formal announcement. I think he thought we’d be surprised.
Or that maybe James would get all big brotherly and tell him to watch himself. ”
“He did, huh?”
Then it was out in the open. I couldn’t help my spreading grin. Gordain had claimed me to my family before I’d arrived.
I’d made the right choice this weekend.
Wait until he found out the little claim of my own that I’d made. He was going to go nuts.
“He made the point that you weren’t serious,” Beth went on, climbing the short flight that led into the entranceway. “But then he spent days fretting over paint colours for your bedroom. Funniest casual relationship I ever saw.”
“Your guess is as good as mine there.” I snuggled the baby and followed.
Upstairs, we made our way to my suite of rooms. Before, it had been mostly bare, not decorated since maybe my grandparents’ day. Old wallpaper, expensive for its time but ugly and faded now, had adorned the walls. Gold leaf had embossed the ceiling cornices.
Beth pushed open the door with a ta-da gesture, and I stepped into a new world.
Dark, polished floorboards led to cream couches in the lounge. White, gauzy curtains drifted in the breeze from the tall windows. The walls were pale and uniform, the fussy designs painted neutral.
Modern and chic, but classy, too.
I turned a full circle, taking it all in. Lamps. Floor-to-ceiling book cases. A piano and a music stand at the end of the wide room. If a designer had taken a peek inside my head, they’d have seen this room. How did my brother and Gordain get it so right?
“I can’t believe my eyes,” I whispered.
“Guys?” Beth called.
My brother and Gordain appeared in the hall that ran off the living room. Both had paint-splattered clothes and dusty marks on their faces. James stepped forward, his attention on me as he watched for my reaction.
I suddenly felt emotional.
“Ella! We didn’t hear your car.” He advanced and embraced me in a careful hug. “Welcome home. What do you think?”
I hugged my brother back with my free arm. “I love it.”
“Really?” He pulled back and examined my features. “Because if there’s anything you don’t like, we can change it. I want you to be happy here.”
“I will. I am. I wouldn’t change a thing.” I spoke to my brother, but my gaze sought Gordain. As his did with me.
My hero waited in the doorway, a casual shoulder against the frame. But there was nothing casual in his stare. The way he looked at me made statements and asked questions.
It showed his concern and how much he needed my approval for all his hard work.
Hunger abided there, too.
I swallowed but didn’t break eye contact.
“What’s that, Sebastian? You’re sleepy? James, let’s take him to his cot, give Ella a chance to settle in.” Beth spoke to my brother then took the baby from my arms.
“I don’t know how to thank you enough,” I said to James, bringing myself back to the room.
“You don’t need to. Welcome home.” He patted my shoulder.
Beth herded James out of the door and closed it behind her.
Leaving me and Gordain alone.
For three weeks, I’d barely heard anything from him. Now, he was here, in my space, hot and dusty from working on making a home for me.
On slow feet, I moved until I stood in front of him. “Hi.”
Gordain just watched me.
“I heard you told James and Beth that we were dating.”
He raised a shoulder. A tight movement. “It was the right thing to do.”
We stared at one another. He didn’t elaborate.
“Well, I’m glad, because if we’re a thing, it means I get to do this.” I invaded his space and placed both my palms flat on his broad chest.
He stood firm.
“And this.” I stretched both arms up, encircling his neck. Holding that intense stare in his grey eyes. Showing him rather than telling him how I loved what he’d done.
Gordain ran an arm around my back and brought me closer still.
A thrill shot through me. I fought a smile. The corners of his mouth tweaked, too.
This was killing him, I could see it.
“Did you think about me? In all that time you were away?” I traced over the soft hair at the nape of his neck. Teasing with just the tips of my fingers. A barely there pressure.
Something huge was changing between us, the mutual attraction acknowledged, but we hovered at the edge of a vital step.
Sex, for sure. But other stuff, too.
“Maybe.”
Hooking my arm around his neck, I pushed against him, bringing our bodies flush. My breasts pressed on his chest, and the masculine scent of him filled my nose.
Oh God, his smell.
How could I be addicted to that? Our time being up close and personal had been so limited. Yet I knew that mix of musk, bodywash, and a hint of aftershave.
He dipped his head, his gaze heavy under lowered lids. Sexy as hell.
“Maybe I missed you, too,” I said, almost on his lips. “It’s possible that every night, I went to bed dreaming of you. Waking up in a sweat. Hot. Wet.”
Gordain broke. He groaned and turned us so he had me against the hallway wall. “Want to take a guess how much I missed you?”
“Enough to work on my rooms during your holiday?”
He chuckled, his gaze taking me in at close range. Roaming over my features. Settling on my mouth. “Hard work is my way of relaxing.”
“That makes no sense.”
He rubbed the tip of his nose on mine, fascination in his gaze.
“You going to kiss me or what?” I sassed, but nerves bubbled up. I’d buried myself in work, trying to not notice the gaping hole in my chest from him being away. It was too apparent now, with painful edges only he could heal.
“Maybe. Callum told me something I didn’t know about myself. That I was an all-or-nothing kind of guy.”
“What does that mean?”
“That I need to stop myself pushing so hard. Let things come to me rather than needing it all, now.”
“Because…” I let the words sink in, trying to understand. “You want everything? But for it to come to you?”
The intensity in his gaze stole my breath, telling me all I needed to know.
“Yes, Ella. Which is exactly why I’m trying to take things slowly.”
Lord above. I hadn’t thought I feared anything anymore, but the words I craved suddenly terrified me. How could I let someone so close when they had no reason to stay? What if slow for him meant it eventually petered out?
What if it didn’t?
“No pressure.” He examined my face.
I blinked at him. Then I leaned in and pressed my lips to his. Just gently.
Going to him.
Giving him the hello I’d dreamed about.
Gordain made a sound of pleasure, his lips warm. Then he moved, angling his head, making more of the kiss.
My pulse sped up. “I missed you. So much,” I said against his mouth.
Then there was no more time for talking.
Our kiss was the first since my dorm room. We’d placed warm lips on cheeks on our breakfast dates, and hugged, but nothing more. Now, Gordain held me tight, a possessive arm at my back, his hand on my head. I touched his face, caressing his skin, rough with a slight hint of stubble.
This kiss answered a question. We were taking this further. Thank fuck for that.
Our tongues met in a flash of electricity, and I shivered. He held me closer, tasting me, teasing me, letting me know what he needed.
I pictured what it was he’d asked for. The good things he wanted going to him, rather than him chasing them.
Yeah, I could do that.
With a frustrated gasp, I gave him all I had, attacking his mouth in a rhythmical assault, showing him what his slow meant to me.
He was here in my home. We had two days and two nights. I planned to make us closer than we ever had been.
Gordain reciprocated, hunger in his moves, a dangerous edge that spoke of desperation and of him holding back.
His fingers dug into my skin.
This weekend was going to be so good.
Finally, we slowed, catching our breath, our foreheads together.
“Wow,” I whispered, opening my eyes to his gorgeous face.
“I haven’t even shown you the bedroom yet.” Gordain’s mouth moved into a smile, the effect dazzling.
I giggled. “Maybe we should save that until later.”
Gordain choked on a laugh, looking boyish and shy, as much as such a masculine man could. “Aye.”
He released me, and I righted my clothes, taking a step back.
“I’m going to offer to make dinner. Come with me?” I held out my hand.
Gordain took it, and we left my rooms. We interlaced our fingers as we walked down the hall, and my meaning was clear. I was claiming him right back in front of my family.
James and I cooked side by side in his and Beth’s kitchen. We’d invited the Hinchcliffes, our honorary grandparents, to make a real family event. Our first since… God, since our parents had died. Life had finally moved on, and it felt great.
Midway through serving up, when I returned to the kitchen to collect the huge bowl of fluffy pilau rice, made to go with our sweet and sour chicken and homemade spring rolls—I’d expanded my repertoire in the past year—Mrs Hinchcliffe poked me on the shoulder.
“What’s that peeking out at the back of your neck?” She lifted my hair. “I thought I caught sight of something. Ella! You have a tattoo!” she said, scandalised.
“Hinchie! Hush, it’s a secret.” I pulled down my high collar to show her.
A few days after Gordain had left for his three-week assignment, I’d passed a tattoo parlour, and an idea had sprung into my head. Then I’d gone home and researched designs before finding the perfect one.
I made an appointment, getting a lucky cancellation, and had it done the next morning.
“Is it a stag? My goodness.” Her local accent thickened if she disapproved of something.
I twisted around and hugged her. I loved it, the stylised black stencil, the stag’s proud antlers twisting up my neck. With my thick hair worn down and my collar up, it was almost unnoticeable.
Naked, it would stand out.
The thought of Gordain seeing it in the heat of the moment had me breathless.
“Well, at least it’s pretty. Do you remember your mother’s tattoo?”
I stared at her, then a distant memory glimmered. It came back in a rush. “On her hip. What was it, a car?”
“It was! Lord knows why she got it, though your father was always into his motors, so I imagine it was a tribute to him.” Mrs Hinchcliffe smiled fondly.
“Wasn’t it blue and white?”
“You’re right. The colours of the Scottish flag, to celebrate her heritage. No wonder you went and found yourself a Scotsman.”
“Aye, that I did,” I said in my best attempt at a Scottish accent.
She tipped me a wink then took the bowl of rice. “At least yours is tasteful. Just don’t go covering yourself with them.”
Mrs Hinchcliffe returned to her chair at my brother’s table and took over cuddles with Sebastian. She and her husband called him Little Lord, just like they had done my brother. Neither of us had remembered it until it had popped out of Mrs Hinchcliffe’s mouth earlier in the evening.
I loved it. My family being here, safe, and together.
I absolutely wanted the meal done so I could sneak into Gordain’s bedroom and jump his bones.
He’d showered and changed before dinner, and the fresh scent of him was sending my senses into overdrive. He sat next to me, smiling and making conversation, telling stories of flying that had Hinchie gasping with fright.
While he talked, I had a funny thought. Last time he’d been away on the oil rigs, he’d got his piercing. A reaction to being…frustrated. Needing release.
Would he have gotten another?
I squinted, checking out the lines of his grey shirt trying to spot the outline of a barbell.
He caught me and gave me a quizzical glance.
Heat stole over me, and I hid my smile behind my water glass.
Gordain dropped a hand and took my fingers in his, under cover of the table. His casual thumb stroke was enough to give me palpitations.
“Keep looking at me like that, and I’m not going to be able to get up from this table,” he murmured, his eyes flashing with heat.
I squeezed his hand, a promise in the press.
Finally, the meal was done. Beth took Sebastian to his cot, and James shooed everyone else away from clearing up. I gave a fake yawn and said my goodnights.
Then I changed clothes, sat behind my door, and counted to a hundred.
Gordain McRae, coming, ready or not.