The Governess Club: Claire by Ellie Macdonald Page A

you.”
    “Oh.” She contemplated his statement before continuing. “Lucy said that some people leave their garments on while others do not. Which one do you prefer?”
    Was she serious? If he wasn’t so far gone with arousal, he would find the situation humorous. Him, being helped by a virgin. Perhaps later he would chuckle about it.
    “I want you to know that my intentions are honorable, Claire. You are not a dalliance to me.”
    Her eyes softened. “Thank you.”
    Sweet Jesus, he could get used to that look in her eyes. Full of trust and openness and affection, all directed at him. He could not recall a time that anyone had looked at him in such a manner. It was humbling and arousing. Frightening even, to be the recipient of such faith.
    “Claire.” He moved toward her and cupped her cheeks.
    She smiled tremulously, her nerves showing. A shaky giggle escaped her. “Our conversation in these situations leaves much to be desired.”
    “It is not your conversation I desire at this moment,” he replied. He lowered his head and kissed her.
    She didn’t know where all her hesitation had gone, but since her conversation with Lucy earlier, she felt like a different woman. Her decision to leave her past behind had lifted something from her, a heavy cloak or a chain; she felt free, especially with Jacob.
    She welcomed his kiss. She opened her mouth eagerly to his seeking tongue and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her body against his. She reveled in the feeling of her breasts brushing against his hard chest. She felt the same bulge that had been present in the church garden pushing into her stomach.
    He tugged at the ties holding her night rail closed at her neck. “Off,” he said against her mouth.
    “What?” Her senses had quickly scattered.
    “I prefer your garments off.”
    “Oh.” Claire stepped back.
    He had never actually seen a woman transform into a seductress before. Where had his proper Claire gone? In her stead was a woman who looked at him from beneath her lashes with knowing eyes while slowly undoing the ribbon at her neck. When it was undone, her night rail gapped so broadly that all it took was a shrug and roll of her shoulders to have it whisper to the floor, slithering down her body.
    His mouth went dry at the sight of a nude Claire standing before him. His eyes instinctively settled on the light curls covering her mound; he licked his lips in anticipation.
    “Jacob?” Her voice betrayed some of her trepidation.
    Raising his eyes back to hers, he quickly shucked his own clothing, feeling the eagerness of an adolescent.
    Her eyes widened. A naked Jacob overwhelmed her senses, making him seem too big for the small room. Statues and pictures in forbidden books from her father’s collection had not prepared her for such an experience. And he was all hers; no other woman was to see him thus.
    She looked into his eyes. “You are mine, Jacob.”
    “You are mine, Claire,” he echoed. He closed the gap between them and lifted her braid off her back. “May I?” he asked. At her nod, he untwisted the tie holding it together and ran his fingers through her hair, loosening the silken strands to spread along her back. “Beautiful,” he breathed, the delicate tendrils twining themselves around his fingers.
    She slid her arms around his waist and lifted her head to receive his kiss. His hands spread over her back, their weight warm and heavy against her bare skin, sending thrills coursing through her nerves. She felt a reverence in his touch that made her knees weak.
    As if sensing her need, he guided her to lie down on her bed, the old frame groaning under their combined weight. It was only meant to hold one person, but neither of them was complaining about the close quarters.
    His attentions moved down her body. She arched into his hands, his mouth, her begging silent. He didn’t disappoint. His hands worked magic on her skin, her breasts, teasing her senses into pleasurable oblivion.
    She