#wherewebegin

“Are you all right?” Claire whispered to him. “You’re pale.” “Aye, I’m fine,” he answered, a bit startled at how far his mind had wandered. “Just a little lightheaded.” “I’m running to the ladies room, but I’ll bring you back some water,” Claire said, her eyes glinting with amusement. He watched her as she walked away, his eyes only leaving her arse to look at his watch. “Go home, brother,” Jenny said, a wicked smile on her face. “There’s only a half hour left. Ian and I will manage fine.” Jamie shot her a wary look. “What will this kind act cost me later? You never let me leave early.” “You’ve never dated a girl I liked,” Jenny clucked back. “Like, is it? Well, that is mighty praise from you, dear sister,” he grinned. “I like her too, or does that not matter?” Ian quipped. His eyes grew more serious as he pulled his wife close. “Are you going to talk to John later?” “Aye,” Jamie muttered. “I’ll speak with him on Monday. I’m just grateful he took Geneva home.” “I’ll speak with her mother as well,” Jenny said and reached over to squeeze his hand. “Dinna fash. Off with ye both, brother.” She pressed a kiss to her brother’s forehead, and Jamie squeezed her shoulder before he stood and embraced Ian. “And Jamie?” Jenny called. “Be sure to invite her to Lallybroch Saturday next.”

Jamie was standing outside the ladies room when Claire emerged. His eyes darkened when they met hers, and Claire felt her lower belly tighten in response. “We’re leaving,” Jamie murmured in her ear as he took her arm. “Already? Well, let me tell…” “No need.” Jamie clipped. He was firmly moving them towards the exit when Claire paused. “But, I didn’t say goodbye…” “I told them for you.” “That’s not the same, and you know it.” “They won’t mind.” “Jamie!” Claire huffed, exasperated as he led her out the side entrance. Their car was waiting for them already. “But I wanted to…” His lips were on hers before she could finish the words, kissing her hard as his hand cupped the back of her neck. He continued to back her towards the car door. “She invited you to Lallybroch next weekend.” Claire beamed. “Really! Oh, I’d love to...” “Claire.” “What?” “Get. In. The car.” Claire raised a brow. “Please.” He added. She took his hand as he helped her in, but she didn’t let her grin show until he closed her door.

The drive to his home was short, only ten minutes or so. Damn if he didn’t tease her the entire time. Despite his brutish tone on the sidewalk, once inside the car his arms enveloped her, his fingers trailing down her arms and across her shoulders, down the slope of her neck and over the curve of her jaw.

He pressed his lips to her ear, and she shivered as he whispered to her of the gooseflesh along her neck and the heat of her skin. A soft moan escaped her as his hand slid between her thighs, his fingers bunching up her hem until he could smell the faint trace of her desire. He kissed her then, his lips teasing hers apart, softly touching his tongue to hers By the time they arrived at his home, Claire felt as if her blood was set aflame.

Five frustratingly long minutes later, Claire was wrestling his suit jacket off in his doorway.

She gasped as his tongue licked a path down her neck, and lifted her into his arms. Her legs locked around his waist as his mouth found hers, his feet carrying them down the hallway to his bedroom.

Jamie lowered her to the bed’s edge and took a knee to hold her ankle. He removed one heel, placing it gently beside the bed, before hooking his fingers around the strap of the other. His hands rubbed circles into her calves as his eyes lifted to hers. She watched him intently, and he found it difficult to break away from her gaze.

His hand traveled back to her waist to pull her close as he pressed a chaste kiss to her lips.

“Is this all right?” He asked, feeling a shyness creep over him as a light blush touched her cheeks.

“Yes, but I want to take this off,” Claire said, and they both chuckled as she reached behind her for the dress’s clasp. Jamie’s hands were there a moment later, guiding the zipper down her back until the fabric fell off her shoulders to pool around her waist. She rose to her knees on the bed’s edge, pulling the dress over her head as his hands steadied her waist.

Her breasts were barely covered by the sheer black material stretched over her pink nipples, and Jamie felt his throat go dry.

“You’re so very lovely, Sassenach,” he rasped. Her face rouged as her fingers unbuttoned his shirt, untucked the tails from his trousers, and slid the shirt off his shoulders. Claire studied his bare chest, letting her fingers trace his collarbone before she dipped down to the raised, puckered skin around his nipples. His golden skin shivered under her touch as she followed the curve and tension of his muscles. Jamie let out a shuddered breath as her nails raked down his abs to his navel, her fingers reaching for the clasp of his trousers. He stopped her and took her hands in his, placing a kiss on the inside of each wrist.

“Lay back, Claire,” he murmured, holding her wrists as he lowered her back. He stood to admire her and place one more kiss to her lips before leaving them to explore. He traveled down between her breasts, placing a gentle kiss on each peak that drew mewls from her lips. His tongue lapped at her nipples through the sheer fabric, and his fingers tugged at them until they stiffened. She squirmed as he rolled one pink bud between his thumb and index finger, and she huffed when his hand left her. 

“Mo Ghraidh,” he whispered to the valley between her breasts. He placed a path of soft kisses down her ribs and across her hip bones, savoring the taste of her as her breath quickened. 

Jamie cupped the back of her knees and pulled her towards him, placing one leg on his shoulder. She sighed as he pressed kisses on her inner thigh, her breaths growing louder as his lips drew closer to her apex.

“Please,” she pleaded. Jamie smiled as he hovered over her. He gently placed his fingers on her lower lips and opened her, feeling a shiver run through her thigh. When his tongue stroked her, her belly clenched to her spine, and a delicious squeal passed her lips.

He devoured her. He pulled her hips level with his face, his arms wrapped around her thighs, holding her still and open as his mouth moved against her swollen, aching flesh. She wailed as his tongue lavished her nub, fisting her hands into his hair and arching her back as he slid one finger and then another inside her. 

Looking up, Jamie watched her face contort in pleasure as she began moving her hips against his mouth, her body flushed and damp with arousal. He watched as she bit her lip and thrashed against his touch, wanting more of him. 

She moaned as she arched against his hand as he curled his fingers inside her slick heat, and felt her walls throb and pulse until, in a high pitch cry of abandon, she came hard, chest heaving and legs trembling. He presses kisses to her knees, and inner thighs as his fingers rubbed the swollen walnut within her, milking her orgasm until he felt the spasms still and her breath quiet. She tugged on his hair gently, and he chuckled, kissing her belly. 

“Jamie,” she whispered, and he felt a surge of lust flow through him. She sounded husky and wanton and very pleased.

“Hmm?”

“Come here.”

He stood between her knees and took her hands to help her sit up. Her hands finished their earlier work, unclasping his trousers and pushing them to his ankles with his undergarments in seconds. 

“It's no’ going anywhere, lass,” he said and smiled as her hands reached for his bottom for leverage.

“That’s fine,” she gasped. “But I need you inside me.” 

“Och, I couldn’t agree more.” 

He kissed her, letting his tongue awaken her again as he slid over her. He reached over her to the nightstand, grabbing for a rubber when she pulled his face back. 

“No, don’t,” she whispered. 

“Really?” He murmured. “You don’t mind?”

Before he left the night before Claire had the obligatory “you’ve been tested recently” conversation with him, that ended with rolled eyes and blushes, but affirmative answers. She also knew birth control wouldn’t be an issue but forced that thought out of her head. She wouldn’t ruin this.

“I want to feel you.”

He felt his throat thicken with emotion, so he nodded his understanding and smiled. Claire shifted toward the middle of the bed, and he followed, crawling between her legs and pressing kisses along her navel, ribs, and breasts.

His lips found purchase in the hollow of her neck as his hand guided his hardness along her folds, coating himself in her fluids. Her hips lifted off the bed, and she huffed again as he pushed them back down, letting his thumb rub her as his mouth sucked at her pulse. Her hands found squeezed his biceps as she whimpered and mewled, pain mixing with pleasure as his teeth nipped her. 

She cried out and dug her nails into his shoulders, as he hummed against her jaw.

 “Jamie,” she pleaded.

“Hush. I’m here,” he nuzzled her nose as he placed himself at her opening, biting his lip at the feel of her. She was so wet he could have thrust right away, but he inched in, moving with her breaths until he was half sheathed.

She didn’t complain. He was thicker than she was used to and appreciated his care until he pulled out again. 

“You’re so tight, Claire,” he breathed, pushing just his tip into her, again and again. 

“More,” she moaned as her fingers gripped his back. He grunted and grabbed her knee, hitching it high on his hip.

He eased into her, and they both cried out as he filled her.

They were still for several heartbeats, foreheads pressed together as they clutched one another. Her breath was audible, and he hummed softly, brushing her cheek with his nose. 

“All right?” He whispered.

“Yes,” she purred, tightening her hold on him. He moved inside her and felt his blood ignite. He watched her as his hips bucked against hers and smiled when her eyes opened and locked on his. Their eyes bore into one another as her body hummed and moved with him. His fingers found the clasp between her breasts and released her hardened, stiff peaks. He dipped his head to them, sucking and nipping at her pebbled nipples until they swelled a dark red. Then he lifted his eyes back to her and rubbed his chest against hers, groaning at the friction between them.

She contracting around him and he yelped, feeling his self-control slip further by the moment. His hand traveled between her legs to their joining, and he flicked her nub with his thumb, bringing a flood of wetness and a squeak. 

“So beautiful,” he murmured, kissing her lips.

“Don’t stop,” she panted. “Yes! Don’t stop!” He lost himself as she came again, clutching him in her heat, and encouraging him with her cry of release. He panted as he spilled himself inside of her, a moan of relief escaping him as he rode out his lingering pleasure, before lowering himself to her side.

When her breathing slowed, she turned to look at him. His Eyes were closed, and his soft smile made him looked boyish, beautiful really. The expression changed to a frown when he felt her shift, and a chuckle escaped her as his arm locked her in place. “Bored with me already?” he quipped, a smirk crawling onto his face. Her thumb rubbed along his lower lip, and he kissed it softly.  

“Never,” she whispered, turning on her side. His left hand cupped her arse and pulled her against him until they were nose to nose. She wanted to say so many things to him but felt words failed to describe the elation springing from her heart. Fortunately, her stomach had its own direct language. A loud grumble erupted from her gut, and Jamie’s smirk quickly turned into a wide grin.

“Well there’s a sentiment I can agree with,” he declared, rubbing her back as she chuckled into a collarbone. Patting her behind, he slowly sat up. “Come Sassenach. Let me feed ye before there’s nothing left of ye.”

Sitting on Jamie’s kitchen counter in his undershirt, Claire watched as he cut up a small block of cheese, summer sausage, and a few apple slices. His sweatpants hung low on his hips, exposing the delicious curve of muscle and ligaments leading to his…

“See somethin’ you like, lass?” He said with his low-toned resonant burr. She shivered and smiled. “Maybe.” He made a Scottish noise and fed her a piece of cheese. 

“You know, your accent isn’t always distinguishable. Why is that?” 

“Och. Just my schooling showing. My parents would be proud.” He rolled his eyes as he leaned against her dangling legs. He held out an apple slice for her, and she grinned as she leaned forward for a bite. 

“They didn’t like it?” 

“Och, no they didn’t mind but,” he paused. “People still carry a bit of prejudice against Scots. They wanted me to know how to turn it off if I found myself in bad company.”

“Well, I rather like the burr. It suits a man of…” her eyes widened. “I don’t know how old you are. Bloody hell, I’ve slept with you, and I don’t know your age, your middle name…”

“My blood type, my gross income…” 

She pinched his side.

Jamie squealed. 

Claire’s eyes grew wide with mischievous wonder. Before her fingers could continue their assault, he had her by the wrists.

“You’re ticklish,” she gasped, grinned widely.

“Be reasonable, woman,” he warned, somewhat in jest. “You want information, and I’d like to keep a small amount of dignity. Fair trade?”

“Perhaps. Start talking, Fraser.”

They moved to his couch, bringing the food and conversation somewhere warmer for them both. Jamie’s bare toes wiggled as he answered her questions and asked some of his own about her childhood, her family and friends. Her heart warmed as they laughed softly in the darkened room, despite stories of their parents and their departures.

“Your father sounds like a wonderful man,” she squeezed his hand. “When did he pass?” 

“Two years ago now. He got to meet Jenny’s bairns. We were all grateful for that, even…”

“Even if you were only 26. Still too young to lose a parent.” She spoke softly into his shoulder, curling her toes beneath her.

“How old are you, lass?” She smiled.

“Thirty-one. Are you surprised?”

His brows furrowed. “A bit. You certainly don’t act older than me,” he caught her elbow before it connected with his stomach and pulled her into his lap, kissing the scowl on her lips. His hands moved under his t-shirt cupping the back of her thighs. She rose up on her knees as his fingers squeezed her arse, dipping her head to the left, so her cheek touched her shoulder. His shirt smelled of his soap and cologne, and she smiled to herself as his hand slipped around her waist.

“Christ,” he muttered. “You look so bonny, hair tussled, legs bare, wearing my shirt.”

“I’m glad you approve,” she grinned, arching her hips as his thumbs dug into her skin. He huffed and stood, lifting her into his arms. He held her securely, and brought his mouth to hers, sucking on her bottom lip, as she felt him walk across the room.

“Where are we…”

His hands cupped her bottom and placed her on the kitchen counter edge. 

“Going.” She finished, looking up at him. His eyes had darkened, and she shuddered as his hands spread her knees apart. She arched her back and leaned back on her hands, her hardened nipples straining against his cotton shirt. 

“God, Claire,” he rasped. “I want ye so badly.” 

She met his gaze.“Then show me.”

There was no gentleness between them this time. She wanted to know his need, and he vowed to show her. He thrust hard into her, and she cried out her approval. His fingers dug into her arse as he plunged into her, again and again, moans and grunts escaping him. Her hands gripped his shoulders as he drove into her, his pace speeding up as her moans grew louder.

“Fuck,” he groaned, as his thrusts became more erratic. He reached his fingers to her clit and pinched it gently. She echoed his explicative as she rubbed against his chest.

“Faster,” she commanded, and his eyes turned molten as he pulled her hips off the counter. He held her hips still against the dishwasher as he fucked her at a relentless pace. She keened and vibrated against him until she erupted, soaking his cock and sending him spiraling into orgasm. His body convulsed as he spilled into her, his moans punctuating each jerk of his cock as it finally settled. Their eyes met and then their lips, hungry for one another, bumping teeth and clashing tongues as they fought to claim each other. Finally, they calmed, lust momentarily dismissed, leaving them bewildered and dazed.

“I…well,” he started. 

“Exactly.” She smirked. 

She wrapped her arms around his neck and settled herself in his comforting heat.

“Can we go back to bed?” She whispered.

He smiled and readjusted her in his arms. “Aye, that we can.”

Chapter 10

“How was the drive?” He spoke against her lips.  “Are you never coming up here again?”

“It was only two hours, Jamie,” she muttered back, a smile forming as she leaned in for another kiss.  “I’ve driven far worse roads with less attractive men at the end of them.”

“Och, a prize, am I?” He teased, taking her bag from her as he pulled her along the path to the house.

“Motivation, I’d say. That and a warm bed,” she squeezed his hand as she looked up at the house with its rich smelling, log fire hearth. He grinned as he opened the door for her,  his eyes moving over her lithe form before his hands found their way back to her hips. 

“I know I was just with you this morning,” he spoke softly to her, his hands  holding her in the dark foyer of the cottage, “but I feel like I’ve longed for you to be here, with me, for an age.” 

“I love it already.  Being here with you…” she smiled into the dark, and found his lips again. 

She peeled away her coat and his until they stood in their clothes, limbs twined around one another, their mouths gently claiming one another in a sweet and tender dance. They would have continued on, had a yawn not rattled her body and given her away.

“Tired, aye?” 

“Well, it's certainly not your kisses putting me to sleep.”

Jamie chuckled and kissed her once more before leading her up the stairs to their bedroom, where a fire was well tended in the hearth and the sheets were already turned down. The room was decorated in a primitive style, harkening back to the estate's 18th-century roots. Across the chair by the window was a beautiful red tartan,  the Fraser colors from what she knew, that completed the room’s charm. 

“Would you like to shower…”

“No, I showered before I drove up, just in case ‘rustic’ meant camping bathrooms.” She said with a chuckle as he kissed her forehead.

“Well, good. I’m about ready to fall over and I don’t plan on sleeping without ye,” Jamie said, patting her gently on her rump. “I’ll show ye the grounds and gardens in the morning, and then you can meet Donas and Losgann.”

“Is Donas the biter?”

Jamie smiled as he pulled his sweater off. “Aye. That’s him.”

“Mmhmm.” Claire muttered, peeling off her layers just as quickly to slip under the sheets.  They were cool against her naked skin and the sensation made her shiver.

“Cold?” Jamie murmured, as he slid under the sheets as well. They both wordlessly moved towards the center of the bed, where they pressed against one another, transferring heat, touches, and kisses.

“Not anymore,” Claire murmured against his chest.  Curled into one another, and tucked in the fire-warmed feather down, their soft words quieted as they drifted off in each other's arms.

The slamming door felt like it shook the entire cottage, yet it was the pounding steps on the stairs that launched Jamie out of bed and into his clothes.

“JAMES. FRASER.”

Claire’s head popped up, eying Jamie’s half-naked form as he scrambled into his jeans. His pants buttoned, he opened the door and met Jenny Murray before she had a chance to storm into their room.

“Yes, Jenny?” Claire heard his muffled greeting as he closed the door behind him.

A silence followed, and Claire’s eyebrow crept up her face as Jenny’s voice punctuated the morning air. She decided promptness was the best solution and dressed in a pair of leggings and a long sweater.

“Breakfast is getting cold, and I don’t plan on eating without you both,” Jenny stated softly as Claire appeared on the landing.

“That sounds lovely.  Thank you for having me, Jenny.”

“Of course, Claire,” Jenny said and then turned back to her brother, frowning. “Well, put on a shirt you clot-heid.” Jenny tsked and started down the stairs.

Claire bit her bottom lip to keep a grin from splitting her face in half.

“Mmhmm.” Jamie muttered but returned in under a minute fully dressed. He wrapped his arm around her waist as they took the stairs.

“Did you sleep well?” He murmured in her ear.

“I always sleep well next to you,” she answered, kissing his cheek.

He smiled and hummed pulling her closer to his side and they walked out of their cottage towards the main house.  The crisp fall air carried the smell of bacon, yeasty rolls, and eggs. Claire’s mouth watered immediately, but even the heavenly scent of breakfast couldn’t distract her from the rolling hills and the nearby fields of lilac and heather.

“Oh Jamie, it’s so lovely here,” she whispered to him, squeezing his hand.

“It gets better if you can imagine,” he spoke to her curls. Ten feet from the house two small children stumbled down the front steps, both climbing over the other as they scrambled to their feet.

“Uncle Jamie!” The small boy called as he ran straight into Jamie’s arms.  Jamie tucked him under his arm while he leaned down to his three-year-old niece and circled his free arm around her, lifting her to his hip.

“I told ye to be more gentle with your sister, ye gomeral,” Jamie jostled the boy gently before putting him back on his feet.  

“This troublemaker is young Jamie, my nephew. Jamie, this is Claire, a special friend of mine.”

The young boy blushed and smiled widely,  his uncle’s smile, Claire noted. “Hi. I can show you the horses later. I know all their names.”

“Aye, that’d be verra helpful lad,” Jamie added with a smile.

“Nunkie,” Maggie said softly, her small hands gently folding into Jamie’s hair.

Jamie kissed Maggie’s cheek. “And this is Maggie.”

“Hello Maggie,” Claire cooed, and Maggie’s hands instantly gravitated to Claire’s hair.

“Pretty.” She said in awe, and Jamie chuckled.  

“Aye, Maggie. I couldn’t agree more.” 

Claire blushed but before she could reply, Jenny appeared at the door, taking in her brother and children.  She rolled her eyes and huffed. “You’ll all be the death of me.  In the house for some food, now, all of ye.”

John sat at the long dining table, his fork shoving eggs into his mouth as Ian read him a story from the newspaper. Upon seeing Claire, John stood, and hastily stepped around the table, avoiding the dog and young Jamie running into his shins. 

“You must be Claire,” John declared, a grin dancing across his face as he took in her windswept look and her easy smile.

“Yes! And who are you then?” She said, taking his hand as he guided her to a seat.

“I, good woman, am the adopted brother, that you’ve no doubt heard nothing about because…”

“John then,” Claire replied, grinning. “I trust you're friendlier than your niece?”

John’s face morphed through several expressions before he chuckled, and to Claire’s delight, blushed. “I’m humbled if you find me so, Claire.”

“She already disarmed you, John?” Jamie asked through the bannock in his mouth. He took a seat on Claire’s other side and reached for the plate of sausage. “Honestly, I expected more from you.”

“I’m only on my first cup of…”

“Oh, coffee!” Claire exalted as Jamie poured her a cup. “I can’t fault you there. I’m not allowed near my scalpels until cup two.”

“Jamie mentioned you were in your residency. A surgeon then?”

“If all goes well, ” Claire smiled, sipping from her cup. “I should finish my certifications by January.”

“A hell of an accomplishment that’s for sure,” John replied, raising his brows at Jamie. “Much more prestigious than an MBA.”

“Be nice, now,” Jamie muttered to his forkful of sausage.  “We can’t all have law degrees, John.”

Claire smiled. “And Jenny the artist.  She must have hated listening to you all.”

“Actually, I didn’t mind it much.” Jenny chimed in, as she slid into her chair. “I can block out most of their prattle when it suits me.” She cast a grin at Ian who leaned in for a kiss.

“What do you make of our humble home then, Claire?” Jenny asked, eying her over her mug.

“I’d hardly call it humble,” Claire chuckled.  “It’s quite grand in fact, even in the dark. I can’t wait to see more of it.”

“You’ll be tired of the hills and horses by noon,” John muttered and Ian laughed.

“Because you’re tired of it, aye?” Jamie replied quirking a brow at him. “And that’s why you're here today as well?”

“I’m here to watch you make an ass of yourself on that horse.  I wouldn’t miss that for the world.”

“Donas did wonderful yesterday,” Jamie said evenly.

“By wonderful, you mean he only threw you once,” Ian piped in,  looking at Jamie over his paper. “Or did you forget about that?”

John winked at Claire.  “Has he told you about the demonic beast yet?”

Claire's eyes flicked to Jamie who stared intently into his mug. She looked back to John and took a long sip.

“I saw the bite mark.  Is there more to that story?”

“Just Jamie shouting at a crazed horse and praying to God the thing didn’t run him over like…”

“That’s quite enough coffee for you,” Jamie muttered, pulling the carafe away from John. “And he wasna crazed.  Just scared.”

“Same different when it's a 500-kilo animal,” John growled,  his eye flickering to Jenny who just rolled hers heavenward. 

“I gave up this argument years ago, John.  Maybe Claire can talk some sense into him,” Jenny snickered, passing rolls to Claire.

“She’s no’ God, Janet,” Jamie grumbled,  his hand slipping to Claire’s thigh under the table. 

Claire furrowed her brows at him. “It’d take God to keep you away from a dangerous horse?”

“Nah,” Jamie grinned, giving her thigh a squeeze. “But it’d take God’s intervention for me to give up on one.”

In that moment, Claire felt grateful. Circumstance had delivered her Geneva’s last name, and knowing it was the only thing saving her from a trip down the nearest flight of stairs, Hippocratic oath be damned. “You disgust me,” Claire said tersely. “And it's clear you don’t know Jamie half as well as you’d like.” Geneva’s smile wavered. “And you think you do? Like you knew Frank?” Claire felt her ears begin to ring as blood flooded her face and fury built up inside her. “How…” “Easy enough to dig up dirt if you have connections,” Geneva pursed her lips. “Slept around, did he? That's what I heard. Now I wonder why he’d do that…” “You insufferable wench!” 

Claire felt herself stepping forward, her hand destined for Geneva’s throat or hair or whatever she could get her fingers around. She was struck dumb with when she ran into Ian’s side instead. Ian eyed Claire’s state, and Geneva’s unflattering gaping mouth and quickly pieced together the scene. “Geneva. Leave.” Ian growled. “But…” “I will have your uncle drag you out if you don’t go on your own.” Ian held her gaze with one of steel. “Do not trifle with me.” Geneva backed away and slowly disappeared down the stairwell. Claire stood by Ian, shaken and silent, hands clasped together. Ian led her to a pair of french doors that opened out onto the balcony. He handed her a glass of water and squeezed her elbow. “Claire, I’ll be back in a moment. Please stay here.” Claire watched Ian retreat from the balcony and quickly rewound the last ten minutes. 

Frank was a history professor, for crying out loud. Not some bored debutant or hustler.

Yet, she knew about him. Knew of their rocky ending. 

What else did she know? Where she worked? Her friends? Where she lived?

Her mind was painting a frightening picture of what one love-crazed girl could do. 

Get a grip, Beauchamp. No need to have a panic attack at a party. “Claire!” She turned as Jamie walked onto the balcony and closed the doors firmly behind him.  He was breathing heavy and Claire wondered briefly if he ran up here. His hands reached for hers tentatively, and she let him take them. He pressed a kiss to her fingertips before pressing her hands to his chest.

“It's my fault. Geneva I mean.” He spoke softly. “I should have dealt with her a week ago when she started leaving 20 messages each day.” Claire’s stomach dipped and she paled. “You didn’t actually date her did you?” “No…well,” he amended, and Claire pulled her hands away, ignoring the hurt look on his face. “We had dinner, one time. Two months ago.” “Well, it obviously didn’t end with dinner,” Claire hissed between her teeth. “She had many lovely things to say about your…assets.” Jamie paled. “What did she say, exactly?” “Bugger off about what she said! Why don’t you tell me the truth!” She barked, and immediately regretted her tone when she saw Jamie flinch. She closed her eyes, trying to calm her temper, and willed her tears to not fall.

“Claire…”

“You don’t need to tell me. It doesn’t matter.” She turned towards the door. “I’m going home.”

“Claire, wait…” Jamie bit out.

Her hand was on the door handle when Jamie’s hand slammed onto the door frame, holding the door in place.

“I kissed her. After dinner, all right? I gave her a ride home, we made out in the car and then she turned into a loon and crawled into my lap, hell-bent to get naked over my dashboard.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair and Claire thought he swore, but wasn’t sure in which language, exactly. 

“I made her leave. I didna want her. I don’t even know why I kissed her for Christ sake! I’ve found sheep more interesting than her, but I was deep into work and training on weekends and Jenny was driving me insane with ‘it’s been two years, Jamie’ and how worried about me she was and about ‘getting back in the saddle’ and I just wanted to shut her up about…” Jamie paused as he realized Claire was vibrating. “Are you…laughing at me?” Claire blinked rapidly and then brought her hand to her mouth. “Yes.” She glanced sideways at him, “Jenny didn’t really tell you to get ‘back in the saddle,’ did she? “

“Aye. She did.” “Does everyone in your family use horse puns?” He shrugged as if the answer was obvious. “Aye. We also spit off motivational quotes when you least want to hear them. Care to hear a few?” Her smirk turned into a grin and Jamie felt the tension in his chest ease. “Later perhaps.” She turned to face him, letting her eyes slowly rise to his. “I meant it you know. You didn’t need to tell me.” “No, I did. If I’d handled her better a week ago she would have let you alone. And to have you leave for it…”

“I was upset about something else.” She admitted. “Though you didn’t help it, I suppose.”

What is it, Sassenach?”

His free arm looped around her waist, and despite her fear that Geneva was right, hearing Jamie’s moniker for her made her realize she knew him enough. He was a live wire, a safe haven, and all hers if she allowed it. She breathed in his comfort and felt her heart settle. She then erupted into tears. 

“What…shhhh, lass,” Jamie crooned. As startled as he was by her sudden outburst, He managed to walk her over to the nearby bench.

Handing her a handkerchief, he rubbed her arms, and lowered his lips to her hair, whispering comforting nonsense in Gaelic to her.

“I don’t know what you’re saying, but…don’t stop,” she hiccuped. He smiled into her hair and held her until her trembling subsided. 

“Claire…talk to me?” He asked.

Claire swallowed. “She researched me. She knew about Frank, how and why it ended and I don’t even know how.” Jamie nodded, pressing his lips together. “He worked at the University of Edinburgh?”

Claire looked up. “Yes.”

“I saw the boxes at your place.  The mail on top.  Well, that’s where she goes. Maybe a friend of hers knew him, or a professor…or…”

“Right.” Claire bit out, before dropping her head into her hands. Jamie’s hand moved to her back, rubbing small circles into her shoulders. 

“Well, she knew just where to strike me. She used what she knew to make me doubt…us,” She looked up then and saw a flicker of sadness, barely held at bay. “Well of course she did. That’s what she wanted, ye ken,” he murmured. He met her gaze. “But you shouldn’t doubt us.” 

A small smile spread, despite her trembling lip. “Oh, is that so?”

His fingers brushed her cheek and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. His lips burned as they pressed into hers, his mouth coaxing her open as his tongue tasted her and stole her breath. 

She mewed as her own mouth kissed the stubble above his lip, the corner of his mouth and the edge of his jaw. Her tongue licked a path to his earlobe, worrying it between her teeth as he groaned and pulled her close.

“Sassenach,” he murmured, pressing his lips back to her throat, sucking gently as she squirmed and squeaked in his arms. “I want ye so…” he huffed as his lips met hers again, and he felt electricity and heat surge through him. His hand traveled up the outside of her thigh until it tangled in the lace of her panties, drawing an appreciative moan from his lips. 

Claire smiled into his mouth and scooted off the bench and onto her feet in front of him, never leaving his lips. She led his other hand to her hip and helped his fingers roll the lacy fabric down until it fell slack around her ankles. Jamie's hands reached for her but she was gone, having stepped away and out of her undergarments. 

“I’m glad you want me,” she grinned and picked up the lace from the ground. “But, I’m afraid you can’t have me until we leave.”

She dropped the lacey bits in his lap and heard a harsh breath escape him. She bit her lip and backed away towards the door. 

He quirked an eyebrow at her and grinned as he stood, tucking her panties into his pocket.

 “No one would accuse you of subtlety, Sassenach.”

Chapter 9

Her curls were pinned delicately in place, swept back and off her neck in delicate ringlets. Her skin glowed with just a hint of cosmetics,  her eyes smoky and alluring.  Her dress, though modest, hit mid thigh and made her opal, soft legs appear endless.  

“Jamie. You’re staring,” She smirked as she stopped in front of him.

Jamie blinked several times before a sheepish expression crossed his face.  He took the small overnight tote from her hand and pulled her close for a kiss.  The smell of jasmine on her neck made him groan aloud.

“I was wondering how long Jenny would let me live if we skipped the benefit and I took you home now,” he murmured, sending a bolt of heat right between her legs.

She grinned. “I did not spend hours on these curls to have no one see them, Fraser.”

He smiled, closed his eyes a moment and shook his head. “Aye. You’re right.” 

He backed up a step and offered her his hand. “After you.”

Jamie shut the door behind her, placed her tote in the trunk and circled round to the opposite door, all while trying to wipe the grin off his face.  A woman he was crazy about was about to meet his family before spending the night.  He mumbled a soft prayer that he didn’t screw it up.

Claire felt her breathing stop as they pulled up to the venue. They had laughed together during the car ride, but now that she saw the crowd gathered around the door and the cameras, her palms felt damp and her heart raced.  A strong arm wound around her to still her hands, as a warm breath hummed by her ear.

“Let them snap their photos. Smile and breathe and dinna let go of my hand.” 

“Like I intended to,” She muttered dryly.

“I’ll walk around to your door and help ye out. Ready?” 

“No,” Claire whispered. 

Jamie pressed a kiss to her neck and let his hand drop from her hand to her thigh. He squeezed the skin above her knee and slowly let his fingers crawl upward, inching under the hem of her dress.

“Weel, I suppose we could find something else to do…”

“This is not motivating me out of the car.” She whispered, leaning her head back to grant more access to her neck. 

A knock on the window startled them apart,  and Jamie grimaced as his sister leaned on the tinted windows.

“Jenny.” He sighed and motioned her away. “She’s always had terrible timing,” he muttered.  He gripped her hands. “Now?” 

Claire nodded and smiled. “Just don’t let go.”

Jamie led her through the dense crowd in under 5 minutes, stopping in 10-second intervals to either keep an eye on Jenny, shake hands with a guest being interviewed (smart move, I thought) or to pose for a brief picture where he pulled her close and motioned discretely where to look. 

Claire was shocked when they cleared the glass doors of the gala’s foyer, and tugged Jamie to a halt.

“Impressive.  I see you’ve navigated seas of people before.”

He smirked and looped her hand through his arm. “The trick is to not stop moving.  They can smell weakness, ye ken.” 

Claire hid a grin behind her hand as Jamie lead her into the main ballroom, stopping only to hug his sister when she and her husband caught up.

Jenny did not intimidate Claire,  but it was clear that Jenny was a great force of opinion, stubbornness, and guile.  She glowed in a cream and gold one-shoulder cocktail dress, beautifully tailored to her petite frame.  She commanded the ballroom, catching the eye of attendants to refill beverages while eying the hors-d'oeuvres to ensure their presence.  She did this while briefing Jamie on the last minute cancellations and giving him a murderous glare if his attention wavered.

After Jamie left the previous night,  Claire’s phone erupted with messages from Jenny. With barely an introduction, Jenny jumped right into the business of preparation.  The gala was benefiting the City’s Recreation Centers,  starting new after-school programs in discovery and science, ranging from ages 12-16.  

Jenny texted her a 20-page document on the at-risk statistics of children 12-16,  the major donor names of the evening,  and talking points in case she was surrounded and cornered.

Always a good student,  Claire studied the materials provided and was not at all surprised when Jenny turned her attention to her.

“Very good, Claire,” Jenny nodded approvingly after the fifth correct answer. 

“Jenny, please, will ye no’ relax?” Jamie pleaded.

“Well, I kno’ ye didn’t review the packet I sent ye, Brother, Given where your head's been.” Jenny gave me a pointed look. “But, at least this one laughs and has a head filled with more than smoke.”

“Janet!” Jamie growled.

Claire smirked and patted Jamie’s arm. “I’m flattered, Jenny. Your good opinion seems hard earned, but I’ll do my best.”

“See?  We understand each other already,” Jenny teased,  as Ian came around her left and handed her a drink. 

“Causing mayhem already, mo ghraidh?” Ian said with a wink.  “Cheers, Claire, to your first battle with a Fraser.  May you survive more.”

“Hush, you,” Jenny scowled, before leaning in to kiss his cheek. “And I’m sure it’s not her first.”

“Guilty.” Jamie clinked his glass to Claire’s, grinning at her before scanning the room. “Just about time Jenny?”

“Aye, it is. Come away, brother.” Jenny said, tipping back the last drops of her drink.

“A wee speech,” Jamie said softly to Claire. “Ian, behave now. None of those college shinty stories.”

“I wouldn’t dream of telling her those,” Ian laughed, offering Claire his arm.  Claire beamed at him as she wound her arm through his.

“And why not?”

“Because he plays a part in most of them,” Jamie muttered and squeezed her hand before he followed Jenny.

Claire was delighted with Ian’s company, more so when she discovered he was a fellow art lover. 

“Did you study art?” She asked.

“No, but Jenny did,” He grinned. “We met in an art class and…well,” Ian chuckled, “I took a few more art classes than necessary to get close to her, ye ken.”

“How terribly romantic,” Claire quipped as he led her to the next installation. They had only just reached the piece when one of the event coordinators approached them. 

“Excuse me, sir.  Mrs. Murray has requested you.”   Ian hesitated a moment before Claire pressed.

“I can manage just fine, Ian.  Please, go ahead.”  

“All right, but I won’t be long.”

Claire playfully shooed him away, as she turned back to the display.  This one was a sepia photograph of raked fields, following a harvest.  The ground was ripped apart, roots and branches scattered over the once neatly lined wheat field, but in the foreground, a male hand extended out to landscape,  and within the cupped hand,  the land's soil.  As she leaned closer she felt a set of eyes lock on her back.  She dropped her eyes to her clenched hands and forced herself to relax them as she felt a presence walk up alongside her.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” said the young woman.  Claire glanced at her,  taking in her dark curls and the ruby-lipped smile.

“Yes.  I never thought a harvest could appear so violent.” Claire admitted. “Do you know the artist?”

The woman tilted her head. “Don’t you?  You were just standing with her husband, after all.”

Claire’s eyes flew to the artist plaque and felt a blush start to creep up her neck. “Oh!  I didn’t realize…Are you a friend of the family?”

“My uncle has worked for the Frasers for years. This was taken at the Lallybroch estate two summers ago. Janet usually donates a few stills to these types of events.  She hasn’t sold privately in years, despite everyone urging her to.”  The woman turned fully to Claire and extended her hand.  

“Geneva Dunsany.”  

Claire felt her throat go dry.  “Dunsany,  as in Lord Provost of Edinburgh?”

“My Father.”  Geneva tilted her head and waived over a server. “And you are?”

“Dr. Claire Beauchamp.”

“Doctor! How extraordinary!” Geneva declared.  “What field did you receive your doctorate?”

Claire pressed her lips together and took a glass of champagne from the server. 

 “Medicine actually.  I’ll be a certified surgeon before the end of the year.”

“Oh.  Well, that’s wonderful.” Geneva’s eyes sank to her drink, taking a sip before beaming at her again. “Goodness, that must have taken a lot of time.  I’ll finish my BS in Philosophy this spring.”

“Do you know what you wish to do after college then?” Claire asked,  grateful to be back in familiar territory. 

“Oh, no.  No plans yet.  I’m sure I’ll work for one of my mother’s philanthropies before long,  but the main goal after college will be getting established.”

“Established?” Claire quirked an eyebrow.

“Married, of course. I’m turning 22 soon.  I can’t very well wait much longer.” She chuckled.  

"I see."  Claire felt as if she’d stepped back into the 18th century. Not knowing whether to pity the young girl or declare her delusional,  Claire decided to play along with her madness. “Who's the lucky fellow?”

“No decided winners yet.  Though I have one in mind.” Geneva’s eyes turned slowly back on Claire. “Men can never be rushed into these things. My mother says they're like temperate horses.  Sometimes, if you want them to behave and follow you,  you need to let go of their bridle and let them run free a bit.” 

“Very sound advice,” Claire muttered. 

“Yes.  Though,  I do wish he’d hurry up sowing his seed amongst the wild mares.” Claire watched Geneva’s eyes turn cold, as a tremor ran down her spine. “You’ll return James in good working order, I trust?”

Claire was grateful for the shadows in this part of the room,  hiding the redness creeping up her neck and her hands clawing into her elbows.

"Excuse me?" Clare spat.

“Oh listen to me. I meant to reassure you there were no hard feelings.”  Geneva tipped her head and bit her bottom lip. “Be sure to enjoy him while you have him, Claire. He’s an awfully good ride.”