Sparks fly when tree surgeon, James Fraser first meet the editorial assistant for a London-based publishing company, Claire Beauchamp two days before Christmas. As they get to know each other, an intense fascination and attraction develop, and they spend a night in each other’s arms. After a mishap that nearly ended a promising start of a love affair, Claire decides to forgive and give Jamie and their new relationship another chance. Their new relationship is fragile and Claire, who is young, inexperienced in love, and has the world at her feet, is about to put his peaceful world upside down and his resilience to the test. It will not be easy as Jamie’s spirit is a little worse for wear after seeing his fair share of war conflicts as a soldier, resulting in him being diagnosed with PTSD. They both come from two different worlds, but they both have a past that connects them. Will their connection be enough to give their flimsy chance, hope for a brand-new future?
Part 1 All I Want For Christmas
Part 2 Miles Between Us
Part 3 Save The Date
Starting Over
Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp, a promising surgeon with a bright future, is engaged to a successful and handsome Chief Consultant of the Royal Infirmary of Edinburgh, Frank Randall. Her closest friends, Geillis Duncan and Joe Abernathy, are not convinced that Frank is the man for her because of his controlling attitude. Claire has her own doubts already, and more confusion ensues when she crosses path with her long time crush, James Fraser.
James Fraser was Scotland’s Rugby Union best ever centre player until a back injury ended his career. Devastated with the turn of events and undecided what to do with his life, he turns to alcohol to numb his depression. After meeting Claire briefly in Lallybroch, he thought he would never see her again until one day, she literally drops from the sky and into his arms.
Forget Me Not
Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp was orphaned at the age of five, and when her uncle Lamb died, the Frasers became her official foster family. Growing up as an outsider in the Highlands was never easy, and her teens proved to be equally challenging, especially when she fell in love with her foster brother, James Fraser’s best friend, Frank Randall.
When Claire returned as a beautiful full-grown woman to Lallybroch after years of pursuing her studies and travelling the world, she hoped this time around Frank Randall would finally notice her. But this time around, James Fraser was not going to stand back and watch as he did in his teens. This time around, James Fraser intends to win her heart even at the cost of his friendship with Frank.
Highland Destiny
Claire Beauchamp, widowed and 29 years old, knew she still had her life ahead of her. Determined to pick up the broken pieces of her dreams, she leaves Oxford behind to start a new life in the Scottish Highlands. When she crossed path with Jamie Fraser, he reignited within her hope, love and dreams.
A Passage In Time
(short story)
Claire Beauchamp and Jenny Fraser decided to attend the Samhain Festival at Craigh na Dun. But when Claire arrived, Jenny bailed on her the last minute, citing food poisoning as her excuse. When Jenny said her brother was coming in her place instead, Claire decided to stay. But something was unusual about Craigh na Dun, and she could feel it in her guts. It must have something to do with the ancient folklore or the incantation of the druid priestess or perhaps there was magic in the air.
Warning: Explicit Sexual Content, Explicit Language
Claire Beauchamp, widowed and 29 years old, knew she still had her life ahead of her. Determined to pick up the broken pieces of her dreams, she leaves Oxford behind to start a new life in the Scottish Highlands. When she crossed path with Jamie Fraser, he reignited within her the burning embers of hope, love and dreams.
It was Friday night, and James Fraser and his closest friends were in the Scotch & Rye Pub having a lads' night out. It had been a while since they got together, and for Jamie, it was a welcome distraction after a very long hectic day at work.
The pub was in full swing, filled with locals intent on binge-drinking and having a great time. The drinks flowed, the music from the jukebox blared loudly, and the place was bursting to the seams.
"Hey Finn, bring us another round of pint, will ye?" Rupert shouted to the barman from their table. Rupert was one of Jamie's trusted friend and right-hand at his whisky distillery, FRISEALACH, Gaelic root for the name Fraser.
Jamie shook his head as he peered into his watch. "No, man, I've had enough. I still have work to do aye, but ye lot carry on."
"C'mon pal, ye had only one drink, and ye've been nursing that pint the whole night. It must be warm like pish by now. For fuck sake, loosen up, it's Friday night," Angus, the head security of the distillery cajoled in a drunken slur as he gave Jamie's arm a playful punch.
"Yeah, Jamie, one more drink..." piped in his brother-in-law, Ian Murray.
"Sorry lads I'm driving, and I..." Jamie's sentence trailed off as his phone buzzed with a notification alerting him to an emergency sent by the dispatchers of Inverness Fire Department
"Fire at St. Agnes Orphanage...sorry lads, got to go," Jamie announced as he stood up and grabbed his leather jacket and car keys. Jamie's friends, momentarily stunned, dismissed him with a wave of their hands and muttered something in the way of "alright then," and "stay safe".
Although a self-made millionaire, Jamie Fraser, 28 years old, was an enlistee fire-fighter at Inverness Fire Department. It had always been a childhood dream to be a fireman; hence, he applied for the job. With his impressive height of 6'4, over-all fitness, and years of gym training and early morning runs, it wasn't a difficult feat to qualify for the volunteer post.
Running to the car, Jamie felt the adrenaline coursing through his veins and was hoping to make it sharp at the scene of action. He wasn't very far from the Fire Station, and he just about made it in the nick of time to put his gear on and hop into the fire engine.
..........
It was after 11 pm when the truck transporting Jamie came to a halt at the scene of the crisis. It was chaotic, and the street was full of law enforcement and bystanders. Jamie quickly jumping out, strapped his protective helmet on and secured his tactical bag. He was immediately instructed by the barking Head Fire Officer and god-father, Murtagh, to get his arse into the 3 story building.
Fire-fighters from another district were already there running about pulling water hoses and herding children out from the building. Some were climbing up the mechanised ladders attached to the fire truck and some heading into the blazing inferno. Jamie Fraser quickly followed suit and ran into the building. He cursed under his breath as he almost collided into a group of frightened children and nuns herded by a colleague. "Keep moving, keep moving," he shouted as he made way for them to pass.
Jamie pushed on amidst the cries of panics and thick smoke. He went from room to room, kicking doors open and making sure there wasn't anybody left behind. Just as he was making his way up to the next floor, he saw a woman in her dressing gown leaning against the wall coughing heavily and shielding her nose and mouth from smoke inhalation. Without thinking, Jamie quickly ran up and caught her on time before she collapsed to the floor.
With hardly any effort, Jamie scooped the unconscious woman into his arms and carried her outside to safety. As they neared the ambulance, he glanced down at the motionless body he held. Although the woman's face was smudged with soot, he was astonished to discover how breathtakingly beautiful she was. Jamie felt his heart stop as he gazed into her perfect face with full sensual lips, pearl-white skin and that mass of dark curly hair framing the delicate look. His eyes travelled further down and rested upon her shapely breasts. The thin garment she was wearing left little to the imagination and Jamie felt a warm sensation surge through his body.
Instantaneously, the woman opened her eyes and Jamie, seeing she was alert, heaved as he drew a sharp intake of breath, as he stared at her, stunned. Her eyes were the most beautiful colour of bright amber, and the wild-eyed look made it even more startling. Whisky eyes, he thought. For Jamie, time stood still, and the entire furore that was happening was soon forgotten. He was surprised at the overwhelming sense of protectiveness that washed over him as he held the body close. All he wanted to do at that moment was to keep her forever and get lost in those pools of golden orbs.
The woman, confused and panicked, began to wriggle in his arms. "Let me down please, let me down...the children in the building..." she whimpered in a rasping voice and in a very notable English accent. Ah, Sassenach.
Jamie, at a loss with words and totally hypnotised by her eyes, continued to stare stupidly at her and when he tried to speak, no words came out. Eventually coming to his senses, Jamie brought her closer to his warmth, hushing and stroking, "Sssshhh, Sassenach, ye're safe now." He cradled her as if she was a child and whispered endearments and assurances in Gaelic in the hope of soothing away the fears.
When two medics came to relieve him of the woman, Jamie snapped out of his trance but kept his firm hold. He loathed giving up the warm bundle in his arms, but his god-father Murtagh was barking orders already, "For fuck sake Fraser, dinna just stand there...get yer arse back in the building."
Resigned, and cursing in Gaelic under his breath, he reluctantly let go. After one last backward glance at the woman, Jamie ran back towards the burning building. Damn, Fraser, snap out of it.
An hour passed, and finally, the fire was brought under control. There was a lot of damage, but after making a quick assessment of the aftermath, Jamie knew the structure was still solid. He made a mental note to donate towards the restoration first thing Monday morning.
Unstrapping his helmet, Jamie made his way back outside to look for the woman he rescued but noticed most of the emergency unit had left. He asked everywhere for the brown-haired lass, but no one knew of her existence. After asking every possible person that might have an inkling, Jamie felt disappointment sink at the pit of his stomach when nobody could recall an injured English woman. He couldn't stop thinking about her and was adamant he would search for her.
"English woman, you say, eh? Sorry, Fraser, I dinna think I attended to any English woman tonight. She's probably taken to the hospital already," one of the medics offered as an explanation.
"Aye, of course. I will go and check there. Thank ye, Aidan, and see ye around." Jamie said with a somewhat forced, smile.
Later on, in the early hours of the morning, back at the Fire Department, Jamie showered and changed into a fresh white shirt and jeans he kept in his own personal locker. Feeling refreshed, he made his way to the hall where the rest of his fire-fighting colleagues were back-slapping and congratulating each other for a good night's work.
"Hey Fraser, fancy a pint before going hame?" Murtagh shouted.
Jamie shook his head. "Naa, I'll pass...maybe another night," he replied, giving his god-father a hug and a slap on the back.
"Very weel, suit yersel' lad, but ye think ye can stop by here Monday at 10 am?" Murtagh asked his god-son. "I know ye have an empire to run and all, but we're having a general meeting, and I'd prefer it if everyone, including the volunteers, were present. And I want to introduce a new member, and if I recall right, Beauchamp is the name. What say ye, eh?"
Distracted, Jamie nodded, "Aye, I suppose I can do that. See you Monday morning."
After saying goodnights and farewells to his comrades, Jamie made his rounds to all the hospitals in Inverness looking for an English woman casualty. But none of the hospitals nor emergency departments had any record of her. After exhausting every avenue he can think of, it was 7 am before Jamie gave up his search and headed home.
They were standing in the middle of the lounge, suspended in time and space, between heaven and earth, looking into one another's eyes. Claire's hand was still in Jamie's, his fingers generating tiny sparks that surged erratically through her body, fanned into a flame with just a little pressure of touch. His eyes, dark with wanting, bore into her soul, sending delicious heat to her core. She felt the sudden rush of blood to her head as her heart raced, scattering all logic and reasoning into some unknown dark abyss. She tried to summon a memory from the past; Frank, Oxford, the hospital corridors, her parents, uncle Lamb... anything to keep her from drowning into Jamie's deep blue. But it was futile. She was falling, dropping, slipping, but she had no idea into where.
The electrically charged interlude was interrupted by the sound of ringing from Claire's iPhone, jarring them from their trance and making them both blink. " Dhia !" Jamie murmured under his breath as his hand released Claire's, to rub the nape of his neck.
Ding! Ding! Saved by the bell.
O' sweet Lord Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ! Ding ding indeed!
Regaining a tiny bit of composure, Claire reached behind the back pocket of her jeans, extracting her phone. "I need to take this," she whispered hoarsely, barely audible.
He nodded and motioned with his hands towards the doorway as he made his way to the kitchen. She nodded back with an apologetic smile.
Seeing the image of the caller on her phone, Claire momentarily forgot Jaime and what just transpired. "Geillis, darling!"
"Hiya chick! How are you daein'? O' my God, o' my God ah heard from Joe yoo're in town. Sae, ye moved here for good?" answered an animated woman's voice in broad Glaswegian.
" Absobloodylootely – YES! Oh God, it's so good to hear your voice, Geillis. We ought to meet up as soon as possible. Listen, are you free Friday night? If so, let's catch up then. It has been bloody ages!"
"Och this is so excitin'! Aye definitely, let's meet up. Maybe Joe will come too. Ah cannae wait tae see you and show you our shop. By th' way, what's wrang wi' ye? Ye sound like ye hae bin runnin'. 'Tis a bad time?"
Claire twisted backwards to peek through the doorway. She saw Jamie leaning over the sink, splashing water to his face and neck and felt the heat crept up her own. "Well, kind of. Look, sorry to make this short but got to go. I promise to call you first thing tomorrow. Is Scotch & Rye Pub on Friday at 7 ok? I've been told that its the place to be. We can grab some fish and chips if you fancy."
"Brilliant, sorted! Scotch & Rye pub it is then Friday at 7! Ah cannae wait. An', och, Claire...you hae a laddie there wi' ye?" She can almost see her friend's cheeks dimpling and giving a wicked wink.
"Sod off, Geillis!" She always knows, the bloody cow! With that, Claire turned off her phone.
Although she was so thrilled to hear from her friend, the call was a welcomed distraction. Geillis was one of her closest mates in Oxford in medical school. And along with Joe, they were the three Musketeers in the campus until Geillis dropped out. In the earlier days, she developed an interest in Alternative Healing after joining a movement against big pharmaceutical companies; hence, she left her medical studies and followed her boyfriend to Inverness to set up a health and herb shop.
Claire was staring at the phone in her hand when Jamie walked back in. He leaned on the doorway, smiling, his breadth blocking the light from the corridor. "Hey, Sassenach. Shall we start dinner?"
She smiled back. "Sure!" And she followed him to the kitchen taking his outreached hand.
..........
In the next half hour, Claire busied herself with dinner's preparation while Jamie chopped the shallots and washed the chanterelles. Still rattled from earlier, she carefully stirred their conversation onto something neutral and avoided eye contact, but working in such a small area, touching was unavoidable. A couple of times, he had to place his hands on her hips as he navigated narrow spaces, and his mere touch sent bolts of heat coursing through her body. But with his laid-back and relaxed manner, it wasn't long before they were back to bantering and joking. Once the chanterelles had been sauteed, and the rice and shallot simmering in broth and wine, she left him to continue cooking while she washed and changed.
Drying herself after a quick shower and shave, Claire was very conscious of Jaime in the other room. Just knowing that he was there under the same roof was enough to make her heart do somersaults. She could hear him moving about as the wooden floors creaked and the pots and pans banged. For a very big man, he looked right at home and comfortable working in the kitchen.
In her bedroom, she looked for something to wear but looking into her wardrobe, there wasn't really a lot of choices. Well, it's only Jamie anyway, it's not like it's a date!
Well Beauchamp, ready for round 2? Ding! Ding!
Wot round 2? There will be no round 2.
So why did you shave your legs?
Rubbish! I always shave my legs.
Liar, liar, pants on fire!
Annoyed with herself, she decided to put on a pair of black leggings, an over-sized sweatshirt emblazoned, OXFORD and white woollen socks. She twisted her hair to the top of her head and fastened it with a hair clasp after giving up on taming her wayward curls. Looking into the mirror, she scrunched her nose and poked her tongue out.
Ok, Beauchamp, let's do this!
Do what?
Get laid?
Not gonna happen.
But you want to.
I do not!
Liar, Liar, Pants on fire!
Sod off!
Satisfied with her reflection, she went to the kitchen.
When Claire walked in, Jaime was in the process of opening a bottle of Chablis. He gave her one of those heart-dropping smiles as he took in the sight of her. His eyes travelled up and down, lingering for a moment at her breast. Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ! Can he tell I don't have a bra? She quickly reached down to touch the hem of her sweatshirt to check its thickness. Taking it as an awkward moment, Jamie reached out and guided her to the table, placing a hand on the small of her back. The scent of her favourite food made her stomach growl ferociously. He must have heard her belly rumble. "Hungry Sassenach? he said with a grin.
She was pleasantly surprised to see that Jamie did make himself at home. There was nothing else for her to do: the table was set, the green salad dressed, her flowers haphazardly arranged in the vase and placed on a side table, and he even had a few of her scented candles burning. In the background, she could hear L-O-V-E song by Nat King Cole playing softly in the lounge. In spite of her nervousness, she couldn't help but smile. Maybe the hunger was getting the better of her.
"Very hungry, indeed!" she replied. Then cocking her head, she exclaimed, "Oh my God, Jaime, you have Uncle Lambs record player working! Sorry, I don't have any sound system set up yet. It's been a hectic during the last few days. There's still a lot of things I need to do with this house."
"Och, dinna fash Sassenach. I love old music and light jazz. We still have my grand parent's record player in our family home, and occasionally, we play some of my ma's collections for 'ol time sake. I hope you dinna mind me going through your uncle's records."
"No of course not, that's what it's there for. Maybe after dinner, we can go through some and listen to some old jig."
"That's grand, Sassenach!" He took her hand and kissed the inside of her palm.
Over the next couple of hours, Jamie and Claire got better acquainted over Rissotto and wine. As the evening progressed, Claire began to relax and enjoy herself as they exchanged stories about their families and life. She found Jamie charming, and like most Scots, he was born a storyteller. He spoke of his late parents and his sister in Lallybroch where he grew up, and in return, she reciprocated in kind and spoke of her travels to archaeological sites with Uncle Lamb and what she can remember of her parents.
After dinner, they moved to the lounge to listen to records. While Jamie lit up the log burner and prepared the whisky and tumblers, Claire fixed a tray of strawberries and cream and coffee. Claire couldn't help notice how at ease Jamie was - he looked like he's lived in Uncle Lamb's cottage forever. For the first time she arrived in Inverness, Claire felt at home, and she wondered if it had to do with Jamie.
..........
Three-quarters of the whisky bottle later, Jamie and Claire collapsed on the floor, spent from laughing so much, after attempting to dance the can-can to Sinatra's "New York, New York." Jamie was a terrible dancer, and Claire couldn't help but giggle her way through the routine. After a few more twirls and twists, they decided to call it a night. She didn't want the evening to end, but it was getting rather late.
Claire got up from the floor and holding up an almost empty bottle in the air, she announced, before slumping on the sofa, "Ok, Jamie, last drink. I'm totally knackered."
Jamie followed suit, but instead of sitting beside her, he sat down on the coffee table facing her. He reached out and took her hands between his own. This time, there was no hint of seduction or suggestion of flirt. "Sassenach, thank ye so much for a lovely evening. I've never laughed so much in my life, but I will need a taxi, I canna drive back home in my state," he said with a slight slur.
"Rubbish, you can stay here, there's plenty of room. I won't have you driving after drinking so much, and you can have my bed, it's the biggest in the house. I'll take the guest room," Claire insisted. She tried to stand up but swayed a bit. As she regained her balance, she looked up at him and smiled. "And Jaime, I had a wonderful time too. Thank you." Claire got on her tip-toes and gave Jamie a kiss on the cheek before swaggering backwards. She giggled. "Ooops."
"Weel, if ye don't mind, then I don't mind either." Jamie slightly unsteady on his feet, caught Claire by the elbows and laughed.
Claire peered into the almost empty bottle of whisky and poured the rest in each of the tumblers. "Good! That's settled then. And no, I don't mind at all. Last drink?" she said, handing a glass to Jaime.
"Aye." And raising his glass, he made a toast. "Slange var Sassenach!"
Claire wobbling on her feet managed to raise her glass, laughing. "Cheers mate!"
After downing their whisky, Claire handed the glasses and empty bottles to Jamie. "Right, I'll go and get some fresh sheets, and you can bring these in the kitchen. Then off to bed."
"To bed or to sleep?" he asked mischievously with a glint in his eyes.
"Ha-ha,"
Claire hurried to the bedroom, slightly zig-zagging as she made her way. That last remark from Jamie made her conscious of him all over again. Damn you, Jaime! As she was getting some fresh linens from the cupboard, she heard a thump and glasses falli
"Jamie, are you alright?" She went quickly to the kitchen and found Jamie taking off his shirt stained with wine. On the floor were shards of glass and spilt leftover wine.
"Och sorry Sassenach, I'm not familiar with your house, and I forgot you had boxes laid there. I tripped over them."
Claire thinking he might be still shaky on his feet due to intoxication, pulled him away from the broken glasses. "It's alright, Jamie. Just stand back a little please." After cleaning up, she went over to him to see if he had a cut. "Let me see you hands Jamie."
"Dinna fash Sassenach, it's just a wee cut." He held up his thumb, and she saw there was a shard sticking out. She quickly went to her first aid kit drawer, to get a tweezer, iodine and some cotton. It was a small cut, but the shard had to be taken out.
Holding Jaime's thumb to the light, she pulled the glass out from the cut, and fresh blood started to flow. Without thinking, as if it was the most natural thing to do, Claire put his thumb to her mouth to suck the blood. Oh, sweet Mother Mary, what did I just do? She only came to her senses when she felt Jaime drew a sharp intake of breath. She felt embarrassed. Feeling idiotic and foolish, Claire didn't dare look up to Jaime and slowly released his hand. Head bowed, she realised he had taken off his shirt after forgetting about it for a moment. As her eyes wandered to his naked torso, she noticed his hard washboard abs and the movement of his breathing. On the hollow of his navel, ran a trail of dark reddish-gold hair that disappeared into his jeans. The thought of running her finger on that trail made the insides of her legs quiver. The skin on her face and neck turned hot. Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, what have I done, and what am I thinking?
"Sassenach, are you alright?" Jaime said softly as he lifted her chin to look him in the eye. What she saw in Jaime's eye was a concern, instead of his usual mischief. She can only nod, too aware of Jamie's naked torso "You dinna need to be scairt of me - I wouldna force me on you." He paused, taking her hand. "But I would verra much like to kiss you. Would you mind?"
Point of no return, she swallowed. "No Jaime, I wouldn't mind." She paused and then continued, her voice sounding raspy to her ears. "Please kiss me," Then she placed her cool hands on his hard abdomen.
The moment, Claire touched him, he felt his body was on fire. He thought of the other women in his life in the past, Louise, Geneva, Annalise, Laoghair e, and looking back, he realised how shallow they have been. The sex was always a welcome release, but beyond that, there was nothing. With Claire, everything came naturally; he was himself, he can laugh, and most of all, she was herself. He looked down at the woman before him but still found himself confused with what he was feeling.
Jaime, staring into Claire's golden caramel eyes, slowly lowered his head, one hand behind her neck and the other on her waist, pulling her against him. Their lips met, just the lightest touch, but it was enough to send electricity sparks across every nerve ending. It was just a grazing of lips, but he was shaken to the core. He pulled away, his heart hammering, taking shallow breaths. He looked at Claire's beautiful face, her eyes were closed and her lips lightly parted. Dhia! Unable to contain himself, he pulled her back once more, this time into a more passionate and intense kiss. He gently thrust his tongue to the opening of her mouth, parting them to delve inside, teasing and probing until she made whimpering sounds. Her own kisses became hot and urgent, her arms snaking around his neck while her fingers ran through his hair, and this made him kiss her harder more. Standing on tiptoes, she pressed her body closer, crushing her breast against his hard chest, sending pleasures down his groin and making Jamie groan.
They pulled away for air, and Jamie searched Claire's face. "Sassenach, I want ye so much, I can scarcely breathe. Will ye have me?" His voice cracked.
He thought his heart would burst when she nodded.
Feeling emboldened, Jamie then hoisted Claire on to the kitchen counter and clumsily pulled up her sweatshirt, releasing her hair from its clasp and revealing her white breasts. Her curly mass came tumbling down, and Jamie ran his hands through them, raining her neck with urgent kisses and nibbling her earlobes. " Mo Nighean Donn," he whispered. Her legs automatically wrapped themselves around his waist, and she arched her back as an invitation, Jamie's Gaelic endearments making her wild. "Christ Claire, ye are so beautiful!" Jamie whispered in a ragged voice.
Claire moaned loudly as he lowered his head to suckle at each breast, paying homage to each erect nipple. Then his tongue started its frenzied exploration on her skin as his hands tugged at the waistband of her leggings. Once released from the constriction of clothing, Claire said in a husky voice, "Take off your pants, I want you now."
Seeing Claire exposed on the kitchen counter with her legs apart, was enough to drive Jamie wild with lust. He quickly unbuckled his belt and lowered his jeans without taking his eyes off Claire. Relieved of his jeans, he gathered her into a crushing embrace, his hands fondling her round arse, pressing his hardness against her. Her hips started to rotate, wrapping her legs tighter. He reached down between her thighs, and the feel of her slippery wetness made him groan and grab her thighs even tighter. "Jamie, I want you inside me, please."
Hearing the plea, Jamie lifted her with ease, spreading her legs as he pinned her against the wall. Without a word, he plunged his cock into her wetness. Jamie silenced her cries with a hard kiss thrusting his tongue in the same rhythm as his cock. After a moment, breathing hard, he released her lips, biting and kissing her neck, his hands tightening their hold on her arse as he rammed into her, slamming Claire's back against the kitchen wall. She whispered "harder," and "deeper" as she bit him hard on the neck, which drove Jamie to the edge. He did as she asked and more. As Claire let out a loud cry, her body began to convulse, making his balls tighten. Finding his own abrupt rush of release, Jamie arched his back as he thrust one last time and let out a grunt.
They held each other for a long while, not speaking, not moving. Eventually, Jamie carried Claire to her bed. She was limp in his arms. As he laid her down, he slipped in under the duvet with her and gathered her close to him. They fitted perfectly. And then he whispered softly, tha gaol agam ort mo chridhe.
Jamie was driving his Land Rover like a madman, cussing and cursing as he swerved and navigated the wet roads to the Northern Royal Infirmary. Despite the cold spring temperature, he could feel rivulets of sweat on the sides of his temple. He felt queasy, and his heart was racing like a freight train, as a feeling of helplessness intensified. Jamie had never been afraid of anything in his whole life, but the picture of Tom Christie pouring drug into Claire's drink playing over and over in his mind, had his stomach in knots. Tears burning at the back of his eyes threatened to spill as he remembered her last words. "I love you, Jamie," she had said. Oh God, I love this woman, please don't let this be my punishment for my sins. Please protect her and our unborn child.
After what felt like an eternity searching for a parking space, Jamie finally made it to the hospital's lobby, huffing and puffing after running through a maze of cars. Unsure where to go to next, he viewed the scene before him, a picture of normality as people carried on with their business, bustling, with places to go and things to do.
"Jamie!" A woman's voice shouted after him.
He whirled around and was relieved to see Geillis, her long, red-gold hair, wild and loose, and her face pasty white. She was followed by Murtagh, his god-father and three other lads from the Fire Brigade, all dressed in their uniform and carrying their tactical bags.
"Any news on Claire? Is she still in the hospital? How come there are no police here? Was she taken out of the building?" Jamie blurted rapid-fire questions without taking a breath, his eyes darting back and forth to their faces, searching for answers.
"Hello to ye too, god-son!" Murtagh spoke, a figure of equanimity, as he took his elbow and led him away from the group. Once they were a fair distance, he turned to Jamie, his face deadpan and inscrutable. "Now listen to me, ye wee daftie. Ye will stay here like a good lad, and ye will do as yer told. I dinna want to hear ye interfering with the cops or punching anyone on the face. Everything is under control, ye hear me? Beauchamp is in the building. Leave this to the pros."
Jamie grabbed Murtagh's arm in a vice-like grip. "Fuck that! I will no' have ye talking to me like I'm some wee lad...ye dinna ken what Christie is capable of. This is between him and me..." he hissed, in a dangerous undertone.
Murtagh shoved his hand away and moved closer to Jamie, "Wheesht, ye eejit! I ken fine what Christie is like. Ye shoulda clobbered the lad years ago and that woulda been the end of it. Ever since the Beauchamp lassie arrived, ye've no' been acting yersel' an' ye've been in all sorts of trouble. So stay away. That's a warning. Ye're never too big to get a cuff on the ear from me, " the older man retorted, glaring up at him, intent on carrying out his threat. Not waiting for a further response, Murtagh turned to his men. "C'mon lads, we have work to do."
"Wait! I can go to the station and change. I work with the fire department...in case ye dinna remember..." Jamie shouted after them as they walked away, in a last attempt to convince his god-father.
Without turning around, Murtagh shouted back, "NO! Ye'll stay put! Ye're a fucking hazard at the moment. As yer commanding officer, that is an order!"
"Prick!"
"I heard that..."
"Ye were supposed to!"
Fist clenched, Jamie roared in frustration, causing the people in the lobby to turn around in surprise. Geillis, noticing the awkwardness of the situation, quickly jumped in, addressing the on-lookers, "Och, nothing to see here," she announced, waving her hands in the air. "He jist hud his haemorrhoids treated. Th' bigger th' laddie, th' bigger th' piles. Soo verra painful indeed...it makes even the biggest laddie scream."
The people and nurses nodded in understanding before turning away. Jamie glowered angrily down at her as he took her aside by the elbow. "Ye think this is some joke, Geillis. For fuck sake, Claire is in danger, and ye make some crack like that," he snapped, trying to keep his voice down.
"Whit? Listen to yersel'... if yoo're gonnae act like a fanny, expect tae be treated like one," she fumed, yanking her arms away.
Letting out a huge sigh, he conceded. "Alright, alright. Hear me out. I need to get to Claire. Do ye have any idea where she is or have ye heard where Tom took her? Please, lass. I can't stand here and do nothing," he pleaded.
"Aye, ah ken where Christie took 'er. Joe said they're in an abandoned south wing in th' basement. That section is awaitin' renovation until th' permit comes through, so that area is isolated. There are civilian police doon there now an' some of th' male staff an' security," she explained rapidly. "And Jamie...Joe broke into Tom's locker an' foond these." Geillis took a packet from the pocket of her coat and handed it to Jamie.
He opened it and found several candid photos of Claire and a pair of her knickers, obviously stolen when Tom came to visit at the cottage while he was away in France. "Oh, Christ! That sick bastard...I'm going to kill him..." he seethed under his breath, shoving the packet into his own pocket. "I'm going to the station to get my gear..." He was just about to turn around and head for the exit when Geillis stopped him.
"No wait, I have a better idea. I know a nurse who will lend ye a lab coat. She sorta fancies ye... just give her one of those stares ye give Claire an' say something nice aboot her hair," she suggested, her cheeks dimpling as her eyes glinted with mischief.
"Aye, alright...let's go. Lead the way."
..........
Claire dreamt of Frank. He was sitting on the edge of the desk in his study, holding an open book. As she walked in through the double doors, he looked up, smiling. "Hello, darling! What on earth are you doing here?"
"Hi, Frank! I thought you'd be happy to see me."
Frank closed his book and strode towards her with open arms. "Oh Claire, of course, I'm happy to see you," he responded, holding her by the shoulders. "But sweetheart, you aren't supposed to be here. You need to go back. Trust me, all will be well." He took both her hands in his and raised them to his lips.
"Go back to where Frank?"
"You need to go back where you came from," he answered cheerfully, as he turned her around and led her back through the door.
"But..."
"You need to have Faith...," were his last words.
Claire opened her eyes and blinked at the harsh fluorescent lighting right above her, her body shivering from the cold surface she's lying on. As she raised her head slowly, Claire realised she was laid on a metal lab table, and from somewhere at the back of the room, she could hear someone whistling and shuffling about. For diagnostic purposes, she made some small movements with her limbs and head and decided that all her faculties and bodily functions were sound.
Right, Frank, you said I need to have faith. Faith in what though? Suddenly she sensed an unfamiliar stirring in her belly, and her hand instinctively touched it. Although unable to comprehend, she felt in the centre of her guts that something was not right. Trying to piece her memory back together was futile. It was as if the connecting thread to the pictures in her recollection had become undone. All she knew was that she wasn't meant to be there.
She heard footsteps coming nearer, and without any second thoughts, she gingerly slipped off the table, her heart thumping wildly. Slightly unsteady on her feet and her eyes somewhat blurry, Claire looked around the worktop and grabbed the first instrument she could find - a bone marrow biopsy needle which fitted perfectly in her hand. Before she could make her next move, calloused fingers gripped her elbow and pulled her up to her feet, bringing her face to face with Tom Christie.
"Looking for something, hen?" Yeah, where's the fucking exit!
"T-Tom, what are we doing here? And what happened to your face?" Judging from the look of his eyes, Claire sensed he was under the influence of narcotics. The once warm brown eyes she knew was erratic and shifty, and he smelled badly of stale sweat. His left side of the face, severely swollen and the colour of purplish-blue, twitched constantly.
"Och Claire, sweet Claire," he muttered as he raised one hand to caress a cheek. The other hand holding her elbow, slipped behind her back, pressing her close to him. "I've waited for so long to do this. Now we're alone..." He leaned down for a kiss.
Seeing his puffed lips descending upon her, Claire panicked, as her knee automatically jerked upward, hitting him on his most sensitive part. Taking advantage of his pained state, she quickly scrambled to the other side of the work table and yelled at him, "Wot the fuck is wrong with you, Tom? Why are you doing this? And where's everybody?" Her eyes scoured the room, looking for a quick get-away. Think Beauchamp, think!
Recovering from the pain on his groin, Tom straightened up, his slobbery inflated lips sneering wickedly. "Big mistake, Claire...ye shouldna done that..." He cautiously made his way around the lab table to her, his hand taking out a syringe needle from his pocket. "Now be a good lass, and get back on that table. I promise I will not hurt ye if ye do as ye're told."
"Wot? I will do no such thing... you fucking demented bastard!" she screamed at him as she edged further away, her one hand tightening its grip on her weapon, it's handle likened to an old fashion corkscrew. With adrenaline pumping through her veins, the fog in her head lifted, and her fear replaced by anger. She raised her weaponry, brandishing it in the air. "I swear to God, Tom, if you don't let me go, I'll skewer your balls with this and make a haggis out of it and feed it to the dogs."
Tom laughed an evil laugh. "Do ye know how beautiful you look when you're mad even such a salacious slut that ye are? Tell me, Claire, what is it about Fraser that ye like so much ye prefer him over me? Do ye think he'd mind if I took what's his? He has taken away so much from me over the years, so, I'm quite sure he wouldna mind if I sample a bit of ye," he jeered as he followed her around the lab table.
Claire backed away slowly, focusing on his next move, ready to run if he made any sudden action. She thought she heard movement outside the corridor but dismissed it when Tom didn't react. "You're one sick bastard Tom...and here I thought you were my friend. You really need help.." Claire heard shuffling again...
He abruptly pounced on her, making her yelp. Claire caught unaware, he lifted her up, kicking and squirming. Tom was about to reach out for the syringe when something sharp pierced his shoulder blade, making him shriek in agony and releasing his hold. Reaching back, he pulled out the sharp object Claire wounded him with and threw the offensive object away. But before she could flee, Tom grabbed a handful of her locks and swung her to the side, making her head bounced off the corner of the table. "Ye fuckin' whore...ye'll pay for this!" he growled, as he shrugged off his lab coat and wiped his bloodied hand on his pants.
She slid to the floor as she saw stars and flying birds behind her eyelids. Feeling disoriented, Claire searched and groped for anything to defend herself with. She was just inches away from Tom's syringe when his hands pulled her up by the waist, picked her up like a rag doll and slammed her on the lab table. She kicked and screamed as she felt her hospital gown ripped away, but he was stronger and bigger. "GET OFF ME, YOU FUCKING BASTARD!"
Suddenly there was a loud crash as the door gave way to the battering ram, and several bodies rushed into the room, screaming and shouting.
"CHRISTIE!" A bewildered Tom turned around and loosened his hold on Claire as he slowly backed away, his eyes huge as saucers, as a very large, menacing red-head Scot advanced towards him, death sentence written all over his face. Tom swallowed and dropped the syringe, frozen on the spot.
Before he could get his hands on Tom, Murtagh and four of his men lunged at Jamie, holding and twisting his arms, as he fought to get-away. Like a possessed man, he continued to thrash and flail as the officers quickly whisked Tom Christie away before the situation could get out of control. They were warned well in advance what Jamie could do if he got within an inch of Tom. "CHRISTIE, YE HEAR ME, YE'LL PAY FOR THIS!" Jamie shouted after him as he was led out of the lab.
At last, coming to his senses, he roughly shrugged off the men holding him and searched the room. "Sassenach!" An officer was already wrapping Claire in a blanket when he saw her, sat-up on a metal table, trembling. Rushing to her side, Jamie quickly carried her away to the corner of the lab, as police searched the room for pieces of evidence. Finding a chair, Jamie settled Claire on his lap, cradling and hugging her tight. "Oh thank God, ye're safe," he muttered over and over, his face buried in her neck, both of them shaking from their ordeal.
Claire wrapped her arms around his neck and ran her hands through his hair. "It's alright...we're okay, Jamie, shh," she whispered, pulling him closer. "He's gone..."
After a while of holding each other close, he pulled away to take a better look at her. "Are ye hurt anywhere, Sassenach?" he asked tenderly, his hands patting her arms and thighs, just to make sure she's whole.
Smiling and feeling more like herself, she answered, "You know what, I'm hungry. I really fancy a pudding."
He laughed out loud, pulling her back close to his embrace and hugging her tight.
..........
Jamie waited outside Claire's room as Joe, and two other doctors gave her a thorough test while she ate three servings of chocolate pudding. He was so exhausted, he fell asleep slumped on the chair.
"Hey buddy, wake up..."
Jamie opened his eyes, immediately alert. "How is she? The baby? Does she know?"
Joe smiled and sat next to him. "Claire's doing great and asleep...well except for a small bump on her head, but nothing serious. You know, it's a sort of miracle that she's so alert and the effects of the drugs are gone from her system. As for the baby, it's too early to tell, but Claire is in great shape, so that's a good sign for the fetus. Her vitals are great...no signs of infection...blood pressure normal and she just ate three servings of chocolate jello. If you want, and when she wakes up, you can take her home. We haven't told her yet about the pregnancy...I thought you should be the one to tell her."
Jamie let out a sigh of relief. "I'm just happy she's alive. And whatever happens with the baby, we'll go through it together..."
"Have you told her the whole story...you know about Tom and Laoghaire, what exactly happened?" Joe asked.
"Aye," Jamie replied, shaking his head. "She took everything in stride. I don't think it has sunk in yet."
"That's normal, Jamie. It's probably a lot to take in after what happened with Tom. She is probably still in shock. What she needs is a holiday...even just for a few days."
"Aye, I was thinking about it...maybe as soon as we leave the hospital. I think I need a holiday too. The last few weeks have been crazy and surreal." Jamie stretched and yawned before continuing. "Right, I'll go and see her now. And thank ye for everything, Joe. I'll have her return yer keys to yer apartment. I don't think she'll be needing it anymore. I will be taking her home."
Joe laughed and slapped him on the back. "You do that, Jamie. I'm pretty sure she'll be happy returning back home to you."
.........
Claire woke up to a pair of sky blue eyes staring down at her. Jamie was lying on his side, his head propped on his elbows.
"Jamie..." She pulled him down for a lingering kiss.
He smiled as his thumb caressed the lines of her jaw. "Good morning Sassenach, ye slept well?"
"Morning? Jesus, I must have slept through. Did you stay here all night?" Claire stretched herself before turning to face him, her arms going around his waist.
"Aye, I couldn't take any chances. Inverness hasn't been kind to ye ever since ye arrived. Ye think ye ready to come home...to me? Joe said ye can leave anytime...ye're in perfectly good health."
"I would love that...I missed the cottage," she replied wistfully, lowering her eyes, her hand rubbing his back."And I missed you too, Jamie."
He lifted her chin with his finger and smiled. "I missed ye too Sassenach. How do ye feel like, when we get home, we pack our bags and head to the Isle of Skye for a few days,? And after that, to Lallybroch?"
"But my work..."
"I spoke to Murtagh already, and he said he'd be happy to see ye back in two weeks." He beamed, pleased with himself.
Claire laughed. "Well, I can hardly say no since you've already arranged everything. Won't it be too cold in Skye?"
He grinned, his face suddenly looking boyish. "Aye, Sassenach...verra cold but I'll be there to keep ye warm." Then his expression turned serious as he leaned to kiss her forehead, his ears turning pink. "Claire, how do ye feel about babies? I mean...have ye ever wanted one? I know ye said ye couldn't have one."
Claire raised her eyebrows, surprised at the question. "It's funny you should ask that...I dreamed last night I was carrying a child. Maybe it's wishful thinking..."
"What if I told ye, ye are with child, Sassenach? Our baby..." Jamie whispered, his eyes glistening.
"Oh!"
"Joe said it's early days yet, but there is a chance ye might lose the baby because of the amount of drug ye ingested. But Joe also said, that yer quick recovery, perfect health and positive results with your examination, could also mean there is a good chance of survival. Either way, we're in this together..."
"Do you want this baby, Jamie?" Claire asked, earnestly.
"I want ye and the baby Sassenach...and if anything happens to the child ye carry, we can try again," he whispered softly, his hand smoothing her hair.
Claire was silent for a moment, confusion crossing her face. "Jamie? What's this?" Baby-talk forgotten, she raised her right hand to show the amber ring, set on white gold, on her ring finger.
Jamie's face turned bright red. "Erm... ye were so sound asleep, and I thought...I thought I'd slipped it in your finger to see if it fits...it's my ma's ring...yer hand is so small ...and it's the colour of yer eyes...I thought, it would suit ye...and I wasna sure if it fits...and then I had trouble taking it off ye," he stammered, as he shifted position in bed, trying to sit up.
"Jamie, why?" she asked, her eyes widening and her face turning pink.
"Weel, what I'm trying to say is, Sassenach, now that ye're wearing the ring...and ye know I love ye..and..."
"Jamieeee..."
He cleared his throat and took Claire's hand in his, deep blue boring into her liquid gold. "What I'm trying to say is, will ye marry me, Sassenach?"
Highland Destiny Chapter 6 ~Scotch & Rye, Truth or Lies~
James Fraser was looking out his office window when Laoghaire MacKenzie walked in.
"A penny for your thoughts?" she said as she came forward to hand him a cup of coffee.
Jamie turned around looking at his watch, momentarily perplexed. "Oh, good morning, thanks." He took a sip of his hot drink and decided he didn't like the taste. "Is it 8 o'clock already?" He was so deep in his thoughts that he hardly heard her come in.
"Aye. Ye're here early. Making up for some lost work hours yesterday?"
He placed the coffee on his desk and started to shuffle some papers. "I was busy somewhere else."
"I'm sure ye were. I tried to call ye several times, but ye wouldna answer. And ye were no' in the gym. We tried the station and Murtagh said ye left with a Sassenach lassie," she revealed as she sat daintily at the edge of the desk.
Jamie didn't respond. She slid on the desk to face him. "So tell me about the lassie? Is she pretty?" she asked, cocking her brow.
Before he could answer, there was a knock on the door. "I thought it was office hours. Am I disturbing something?" came a mocking voice.
Laoghaire immediately jumped off the desk and was about to admonish the intruder when Jamie waved her to go.
"Tommy! What can I do for you?" Jamie gestured for him to a seat.
Tom Christie walked in, but he didn't bother to sit down.
"Fraser, I'll get to the point. I dinna ken what ye're up tae with the Beauchamp lassie, but I'm here to give ye a word of caution. Treat her right. She's no' like the lassies ye're typically after. If ye plan to fuck her 'bout, here's news for ye...there's plenty more in the sea ye can do that tae. I'm sure ye'll have no bother finding one. Her best mate Joe works in the Infirmary, and I know him. He has only got good words about her. Treat her right Fraser, don't mess her 'bout."
Jamie listened, his face impassive waiting for Tom to finish his diatribe. "Anything else, Tommy?"
"Yes...fuck ye, James Fraser, fuck ye!" Then Tom Christie left the office almost bumping into an eavesdropping Laoghaire.
Not long after Tom Christie left, James Fraser gathered his keys and sports bag and headed out, and stopping by Laoghaire's desk, he said, "I'm out for today. If there are any problems, go see Rupert."
..........
Claire Beauchamp was awoken by a sound of door closing. She raised her head and looked around grimacing as a wave of sharp pain in the head engulfed her, not to mention the throbbing, dull ache between her thighs. She was parched, and her mouth felt like cotton wool. As she adjusted her eyes to the morning light, memories from the previous night came flooding back. She groaned. Oh, bleeding, pickles!
Despite having a massive hangover, she remembered everything that happened, and her face heated simultaneously at the thought. After Jamie had taken her to bed, she had fallen asleep immediately curled up in his arms to the sound of his Gaelic mutterings. Sometime during the night, they made love twice more. Jamie was insatiable, and even in her drunken stupor, he was able to rouse her, and she responded with unbridled passion.
She compared Frank's and Jamie's lovemaking. While Frank was skilled, sophisticated and refined in the art of love, Jamie was more primal, uninhibited and hedonistic. At this thought, Claire shook her head at the comparison, scolding herself for doing so. But where is Jamie? She looked around for a note, and she found none. She slapped her head and thought, Bloomin' heck, I'm such a damn fool.
Then her bedroom door opened, and Jamie's head popped in. "Sassenach, are ye awake?"
"Oh! I heard the door closed and I thought you left." Embarrassed, Claire slid under the duvet and pulled the covers up to her neck.
He smiled. "I was out and took ye're keys with me so I can let myself in. May I come in?" He held up a brown paper bag. "I have something for ye."
"Oh! Yes, do come in. I mean, of course, you may. Don't be daft." She patted the bed beside her. "So what's in the bag?" Claire noticed he had changed into fresh clothes and wondered if he had been home. Admiring the sight of him, she thought he looked handsome in his black turtle-neck and black jeans. She touched her hair absently. Oh Christ, I probably look like a poodle.
Jamie walked over and leaned down to kiss her lingeringly on the lips. As he pulled away slightly, he stared into her eyes for a moment with his intense blue before breaking into a smile. "Good morning Sassenach," he said softly.
"Oh...good morning. Good lord, are you always this chipper in the morning?"
"Mmm, not always depends on the company." He blinked his eyes as though he was winking. He reminded Claire of a sizeable red owl.
He sat on the side of the bed, brought out his offerings and placed them on the bedside table. There were coffees, bottled waters, a couple of croissants and a miniature bottle of Frisealach Whisky.
"Jamie, you can't be serious!" she exclaimed after seeing the whisky.
"It's called the hair of the dog." He poured the alcohol into the coffee and handed into Claire. "Here, Sassenach drink this. It will get rid of your hangover."
"Don't you think paracetamol would do the trick?" She asked as she eyed the cup dubiously, pulling the bed cover higher above her breast.
"Trust me Sassenach, this will help."
"Alright then but first, can you please hand over my robe so I can sit up properly."
Jamie grinned. "What do ye need the robe for? Ye look fine the way ye are." Attempting to pull down the sheet from her grasp, he added, "Besides, I've seen them before, Sassenach, and I think they're awesome."
Blushing, she ignored the remark and pulled the bedding higher. "Here, give me the coffee." Taking the cup from Jamie, she took a sip of the hot liquid and smiled. "Mmmm, it's not bad at all. And I'll have a croissant too, please." She realised she was starving.
Jamie handed the croissant and held her coffee while she ate. "So, how are ye feeling?" It amused him that Claire didn't realise the sides of her mouth was covered in pastry flakes and was astonished at how quick she wolfed it down.
"Oh, God, I must look terrible," she started in between big bites. "I woke up feeling like I have been run over by a truck!" Realising what she just said, her face turned crimson. "Oh, no...I don't mean you!" Mortified, her face turned into a darker shade of crimson. "Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ! What I meant to say is, it was the whisky... my head was pounding when I woke up. But this...," she raised the coffee cup, "...you are right. I feel slightly better. And that croissant was heaven." Eyeing the other croissant, she added, "Are you having that?"
Jamie laughed, handing her another. "I've never seen a woman eat with sae much gusto. I like that. And ye don't look terrible at all...ye look even more beautiful in the morning."
"Hmmm...I didn't realise I was so hungry until I drank...what do you call it again...the hair of the dog? And as for your comment on the way I look, I think you are still intoxicated. Mmmm, this is so good," she said, taking a big bite of the pastry.
"No, I'm not intoxicated at all, Sassenach. I went for a run early this morning. I must have sweated the alcohol off, I suppose. And then I went to work to sort out some papers, and now I'm here."
"Good lord, did you sleep at all?"
Grinning, he replied, "Nah, you wouldna let me sleep."
Claire coughed in between a mouthful of croissant and coffee, sputtering, she asked, "So what exactly do you do? You never mentioned your day job before."
Jamie cleared his throat, "I work in the administration for Frisealach; hence, I was able to smuggle the whiskies last night." Changing the subject quickly, he offered the second cup of coffee to her.
She shook her head. "No thanks, that'll do."
"Feeling better?"
She nodded, smiling. "Much better."
Jamie chuckled, as he watched her down the last of her coffee and took a swig from the bottled water. "Wow, that was quick! Now it's my turn." He stood up abruptly, making Claire jump.
"Your turn for wot?"
He grinned at her. "My turn for breakfast."
"Oh!" She looked at the empty paper bag. "Sorry, I ate your share. Here, I'll go check in the kitchen..." Before Claire could get out of bed, Jamie had taken his top off already and thrown it on the floor. "Wot!? Jamie, what in heaven's name are you doing?" To her embarrassment, she saw several bite marks on his chest and neck as he took off his shirt. No bloody wonder he was wearing a turtle neck!
Pulling down his jeans and boxer shorts, he announced, "I'm ravenous. I want my breakfast."
"Jamie, you're crazy!" Her eyes widened when Jamie discarded the last of his clothing. Seeing him stark naked in daylight was something else. He looked like a statue of some Norse Viking that came alive and was ready to claim his plunder. Her eyes travelled down to his lower torso and rested on his growing arousal, making the corpuscles in her vein run riot. O'Hail Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners.
"And ye Sassenach, ye look delicious enough to eat," he said grinning. He got into bed and yanked the cover off she held securely around her, making her yelp.
"Oh no, you don't, I still feel sore from last night!" She was trying to reach out for the last vestige of her modesty, but he wouldn't let her.
"Aye? I promise to be verra gentle, and I promise to make it better," he coaxed, coming closer and grabbing her by the hips. Noticing her eyes were on the bite marks on his shoulder, he added, "And ye can bite me some more, ye vixen..."
"Jamie!" He was licking off the pastry flakes on the sides of her mouth as he gently pushed her on to her back. Oh lordy, lordy!
"Mmmm, ye taste yum, Sassenach." he murmured, smiling as he traced the outline of her lips with his tongue while his thumb did the same on her nipples. Then he raised his head and shifted to his side to glance at her naked body. "Mouthwatering, scrumptious, luscious, yum, " he whispered before lowering his head for a kiss.
She made unintelligible sounds as her fingers dug into his shoulders. "Jamie!"
His lips travelled down her throat as one hand slipped under her arse for a fondle. "Hmmm? Tell me, Sassenach, where is it sore, and I'll kiss it better for ye," he whispered.
Claire didn't say another word as she wrapped her arms around Jamie's neck and did some tasting of her own. You taste yummy too, carrot top!
..........
Lying together afterwards, basking in the glow of the aftermath of their lovemaking, Jamie cradled Claire's head on his chest. "Sassenach?"
"Mmmm?" Her fingers were doing an exploration of their own on his abdomen.
"I meant to tell ye, ye were wonderful last night."
She smiled. "Me or the sex?"
He turned to face her, smoothing the curls behind her ears. "Sex was mind-blowing, but that's no what I meant. What I was meaning to say is, I had a fabulous time, truly. Ye made me laugh, and ye're truly a wonder. I've never met anyone like ye. Did ye enjoy it too, Mo Nighean Donn?"
"Yes, Jamie, I did. What is Mo Nighean Donn?"
"It means my brown-haired lass." He raised one of her locks and twisted it around it in his fingers. After a long pause, he continued. "It's true I had other women before ye, but with ye it's different. Even after I've just left you shortly this morning after making love, all I can think of is coming back to you."
Claire tried not to laugh, but she could hardly stifle a giggle. "Jaime, that's lust. It means you're a very horny laddie."
He chuckled. "Och Sassenach, I'm finding it challenging already to find the right words and here ye are mocking me. What I'm trying to say is, I've never wanted a woman as much as I wanted ye. When I first laid eyes on ye, I knew I wanted ye. Do ye think that's usual?
After giving it much thought, she answered. "I don't know. Maybe it is or perhaps not. But what I can tell you is this, I've never done this before. Yes, I've been on dates before I met my husband, and after my husband died but I've never slept with anyone on the first date. And last night wasn't really a date was it? And even if it was, then you're the first I've slept with on the first date."
Jaime's arms tightened around her. " Hmm...I dinna like it one bit when ye talk of other men before me."
"Well, you started it! You did mention there were other women before me." She pinched him on the arm.
"Let's forget about it then, Sassenach but whatever this is, I would verra much like to happen again."
"What do you think this is Jaime? Us...now?"
"I dinna ken, but I intend to find out." Jaime lifted Claire on top of him and made love to her all over again,
..........
The next three days went by in a blur. Work was hectic, but Claire enjoyed her new role in the world of medical service. Although it was not Neuroscience, the novelty of being in a different environment that didn't resemble a hospital ward was exhilarating. She quickly made new friends and have grown accustomed to her colleagues' humour and constant banter. Boys will be boys , after all, she often thought. She learned, to her astonishment that Murtagh was Jaime's god-father, and soon found out that behind the grumpy, cantankerous exterior, he was really a softy at heart. The boys at work often teased him about finding a woman to soften his bearing, to which he would reply with a scowl.
And as for Jaimie, he was a continuous presence that hovered ever since. He was attentive, thoughtful and caring as expected of any normal boyfriend. Whether he was really her boyfriend or not, the subject was never broached. He insisted taking her to and picking her up from work every day, even when her car was returned. He practically lived in the cottage and stayed every night, often cooking for them both when he finished work. Claire sometimes wondered what exactly they were as they never made a public display of their relationship. The longest and only serious relationship she ever had was with Frank, so Claire felt like a novice when it came to the matter of the heart. With so many things occurring, there was little time to ponder. It was less than a week since she arrived, but Claire felt so much have happened already in such a short period of time. It felt like she was caught in some whirlwind that wouldn't let up.
Friday night came, and she met up with Geillis in the Scotch & Rye Pub. It was her first night without Jamie, and although they've only known each other less than a week, it felt odd not to be with him. Nevertheless, it was a welcome change and a chance to enjoy the local culture.
Instead of waiting for Jamie to drop her off in town, she left with a cab before he could arrive at the cottage, leaving him a note, "See you later."
Geillis and Claire were sat at the bar, enjoying a dinner of Fish & Chips, and after a couple of wine and general chit-chat, Geillis finally blurted the question Claire was dreading and expecting.
"So tell me...ye were wi' a laddie the night ah first called ye. What was that all about? Don't ye dare deny it, Claire Beauchamp, ah ken ye! And ye didne call the followin' day either which was highly unusual. It must hae been a good night."
Claire laughed. "Oh God Geillis, I knew this question will eventually pop up. I suppose there's no avoiding it." She paused and took a deep breath. "Well, there is a lad, of course. His name is Jamie. We met on Monday, we made love that night, and he's basically been...well... sort of living under my roof since then."
Geillis eyes widened, and her hand went to her mouth, "Och Claire...ye bloody tart! It must hae somethin' tae dae with the highland air. The Claire ah ken would hae never dain such a thing."
They were both laughing.
"Oh God! I know, it's just that one thing led to another. What can I say? "
"The laddie must be bonnie for ye tae jump in the sack wi' him on the first night. So what is he like an' what does he dae?"
"Well, he is bonnie for sure and incredibly sexy." Claire blushed profusely much to her friend's amusement. "He's kind, charming, a notorious flirt, well at least with me. I do wonder if he flirts with other girls. As for his job, he is quite evasive about it. To be honest, we're still in the getting-to-know-each-other phase...well with sex thrown in, of course."
Geillis cheek dimpled. "Weel, Claire, you're nae slack in the looks department sae don't sell yerself short. The laddie must be smitten wi' ye. Look at ye, you're only dressed in jeans an' jumper tonight, nae a smidgen of makeup an' every laddie was lookin' at ye when ye walked in." With a mischievous twinkle in her eye, she added, "As for sex, it must be good, eh? Ah thought somethin' was different about ye. At first, ah thought it must be the highland air. It must hae to dae with all the sex you're gettin'. Ah ken the look of lassie that's been weel bedded."
"Oh good God, am I going to get this all evening with you. Geillis Duncan, you are one impossible woman!"
As they sat there giggling, a party of twenty people walked in. A few from the group stopped by to chat with Geillis, and as she was making introductions, Claire heard Jamie's voice from behind her. "Sassenach, I thought it was you." As she turned around, she was met with a resounding kiss on the cheek.
"Jamie, what a pleasant surprise. Sorry, I left before you could arrive...I knew you were at work and I took a cab in case I have a bit too much to drink. What are you doing here?"
"Och don't worry Sassenach. I'm with people from work," he pointed with his thumb to the group of people pushing tables together at the back. Then he looked past Claire. "Geillis! I had no idea that you're friends with Claire. How are ye?" Jamie leaned to her for a hug.
Geillis raised her eyebrows at Claire and grinned. Turning to Jamie, she said, "Weel, weel look at we hae here, it's the wee fox cub. 'Am daein' great an' how about ye? Ay 'course, ye wouldnae hae known am friends wi' Claire...both of ye met only recently." She winked, her cheeks dimpling.
"Oh, you know each other," said Claire somewhat confuse.
"Aye Sassenach, her parents are neighbours with my Uncle Dougal and Aunt Maura from Leoch. As a young lad, I spent my summers with them learning how to ride a horse and taking care of the stables. And Geillis was a proper witch then...she used to throw apples at us and do all sorts of mad stuff to annoy my cousins and me."
Geillis laughed heartily at the memory. "Och, Ah was only causin' some stramash so Jamie's uncle Douggie would come out. Ah used tae fancy the pants off him. He was one big, right lookin' laddie...just like our Jamie here."
"Oh yes, I remember Leoch. I came with you once for Easter weekend." Claire added, looking at Geillis. " So, Jamie, are you joining us?"
"No, I'll let ye girls catch up. I will be over there with the lads." Turning to Claire, he whispered, "See you later?" She nodded.
He left a few pound notes on the bar and signalled the bartender a round of drinks for the girls.
Claire looked over to the table where Jamie headed to. The lads he mentioned included a few lassies. They must all be from work , she thought.
After Jamie left, Geillis gave her a wide-eyed look and slapped Claire on the hand. "Claire! So that's the Jamie - The Jamie Fraser! Ye never mentioned Fraser. Ye clever boots! Every hen must hate ye now for baggin' the most eligible bachelor in the country."
"Wot? I don't know what you're talking about?"
"What dae ye mean ye don't ken what am talkin' about? Don't ye ken who you're sleepin' wi'?? Christ Claire, don't ye read the news?"
Claire shook her head. "Bloody hell Geillis, out with it for fuck sake. No, I don't know what you're talking about! Who is Jamie Fraser?"
"Oh my God, ye really don't ken. The man ye're sleepin' wi' is James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser. He is a business magnate. He owns Frisealach Distellery, My Peak Gym franchise, several horse ridin' schools across the highlands an' he bought his uncle Jared's vineyard in France not tae long ago," Geillis explained in an exasperated tone.
"James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser? I know the name. I know Frisealach, but I thought the owner was an old man. Oh, why do you think he didn't tell me? Not that it would have mattered. I knew he was a part-time firefighter and had a day job at Frisealach. I mean I like him and what he does for a living is irrelevant." Claire was rambling at this point, trying to remember the little details of their short time together. Then she remembered how he never liked to talk about his job. He always spoke of other things but not what he did for a living.
"Claire, pet, he must hae a good reason. Mebbe he didne tell ye coz he thought ye might treat him differently. Besides, ye said sae yerself, you're still gettin' tae ken each other. Am sure he would tell ye eventually. Ah think Jamie more than likes ye, Claire. He keeps lookin' our way. Sae 'that must mean somethin'. Dae ye hae feelings fur him?"
Claire looked at the mirror on the bar wall, and she can see the reflection of the group Jamie came with. And she also saw a beautiful girl leaning towards him, but he seemed oblivious. When she saw Jamie glanced toward them, she quickly averted her eyes.
"I don't know Geillis. Everything is happening so fast. Ever since I've arrived, it's just one thing after another. The fire at St. Agnes, for instance, then Jamie...to be honest, I haven't had time to even think what I really feel. Sure Jamie is great, and sex is....well that's just another whole different category. Just don't mention to Jaimie I know, ok? I suppose he will tell me on his own time" Claire paused deep in thoughts and after a moment, she said. "Listen, I'll be right back, I need to go to the loo."
"Ye alright, Claire?"
"Yeah, I'm good." She smiled at her friend as an assurance. "It's not every day you find out you're sleeping with a millionaire."
Claire stood up and headed for the toilet, unaware of the many stares that followed her.
.........
Claire looked at herself in the mirror. Her face was flushed from the wine she drank and perhaps from the body heats emanating from the pub. She took big deep breaths and took out a lip balm from her handbag.
"Ye must be the Sassenach everyone is talking about."
Claire looked up to the mirror and saw a pretty girl standing next to her. She had beautiful long blonde hair and wore a grey suit that was probably one size too small for her and had plenty of makeup on.
"Oh, really? I wouldn't know," she said as she applied lip balm on her chapped lips while watching the girl put on a thick lashing of red lipstick.
"I saw Jamie talking to ye. You must ken him well."
"And what is it to you?"
Laoghaire was stunned for a moment. She didn't quite know how to take the Sassenach.
"Weel what I mean to say is, whatever he has for ye, it will pass. He and I go a long way back. Ye're just a Sassenach here...ye're new, so everyone is bound to be intrigued, including Jamie. So don't get yer hopes up."
Claire turned to face the girl. "Umm...what is your name again?"
"Laoghaire." She replied, her red lips breaking into a menacing smile.
"Laoghaire...beautiful name Laoghaire." Smiling sweetly, Claire extended her hand. "I'm Claire. Dr Claire Beauchamp. As a doctor, I have a moral obligation to diagnose and treat patients if I see fit. From my point of observation, I think you might have a debilitating condition. I understand that I may not be your cup of tea but please, allow me to impart to you that I can see something is wrong here. At first glance, my prognosis is, you need to have your head examined." Claire paused, making waving motions in the direction of the girl's head. "I might have an idea what might be inflicting you, but I don't want to get ahead of myself. But if I am right, don't worry, your condition isn't contagious...it's a disease that's usually inherent to a person. If this symptom you have now continues to persist..." Claire took out a card from her handbag and placed in front of Laoghaire. "... please give me a call, and I'll see what I can do. Meanwhile, I am off duty, so I wish you a lovely evening."
With that, Claire turned around, leaving an open-mouthed Laoghaire staring after her.
Eat my shorts, blondie, or stuff it where the sun doesn't shine!
Claire Beauchamp arrived in Inverness, late Friday afternoon after a two-day journey by car from Oxford. She was looking forward to a new life in Scotland and a fresh start. It had been five years since her husband of only two months, Frank Randall died in a car accident, and after finishing her internship recently, she was ready to move on.
Frank Randall was a University professor, and Claire, a medical student in Oxford when they first met in the pub 7 years ago. Frank was 12 years her senior, but that didn't deter Claire from developing an infatuation. On the other hand, Claire's charm, wit and maturity beyond her years captivated the young professor, and it wasn't long before they fell in love and married. It was a blissful union until Frank died tragically, leaving his young bride to pick up the pieces of her broken dreams.
Determined and stubborn, young Claire wasn't a person to wallow in grief for too long. Although very much heartbroken, she picked herself up, buried herself in work, and concentrated on finishing her studies. Shortly after Frank died, she sold their Victorian house to pay for her tuition fees, and whatever money was left, was put into her savings.
Five years forward, Claire claimed her hard-earned M.D. as a Neurosurgeon and completed her obligatory internship. As she took her time deciding her next steps, her best friend Joe Abernathy from medical school had taken up residency in the Northern Royal Infirmary in Inverness. Joe Abernathy wanted her to follow suit.
Widowed and 29 years old, Claire knew she still had her life ahead of her. Uncle Lambert, her guardian since she was orphaned at age 5, suggested she takes his neglected cottage in the outskirts of Inverness if she opted to follow her friend Joe. Her uncle had very little use of it and having no family of his own, Claire knew the cottage will one day belong to her.
Without any further persuasion, Claire decided to move to Inverness and put her hospital residency on hold for a year. A kind of sabbatical , she thought. She needed time for the transition without the rigorous demands of working as a Neurosurgeon. To ease the transition, Claire responded to a job opening as a paramedic in Scottish Ambulance Service. The possibility of working indoors as well as outdoors on emergency cases sounded exhilarating and adventurous. Although over-qualified for the job, she knew she needed a change of something....or anything for that matter, without wandering too far from the medical route.
It didn't take long before Claire heard from the Scottish Ambulance Service. They knew she was over-qualified for the position, but they were only too happy to accept her application. Claire was thrilled and immediately made arrangements for the move. She was notified to start work as soon as she arrived.
Claire's first destination in Inverness was St. Agnes Orphanage to see the French mother superior, Mother Hildegarde. She was a life-long friend of Uncle Lambert and the keeper of the cottage's keys. As Claire walked into the Mother Superior's office, she was greeted with open arms and a huge warm smile.
" Ma chérie , Claire, come here and let me look at you. It's been ages!" Mother Hildegarde gathered Claire into her arms and embraced her tightly. " Mon Dieu , look at you...what a beautiful woman you have become. Mind you, you have always been a beautiful girl."
"Mother Hildegarde, oh it's so lovely to see you. Oh yes, it's been almost 10 years since I was here in bonny Scotland. And it's still bonny as ever. How are you?" Claire smiled warmly, hugging the elderly lady back.
For a woman in her eighties, the Mother Superior had a surprisingly firm grip. " Très bien, ma chérie . And how about you? You must be tired and hungry, non ? You must stay here for the night. There are still workers at your uncle's cottage right this minute and should be finished by tomorrow. They're doing some finishing touches to make sure the place is secure...you know like making sure the roof has no leak."
Claire laughed, "Oh, so typical of Uncle Lamb. He likes to over-see things, you know. As for food, no thank you. I'm not really hungry, but I'm exhausted, and I can use a good nap."
"Of course, ma chérie , this way...allow me to show you your room for the night and oh...here are the keys to the cottage." Claire took the keys and linked her arm with the older woman as they walked out of the office, chatting about Uncle Lamb and life in general.
Twenty minutes later, after a small tour around the shelter, saying hello to some of the orphans and exchanging pleasantries with the younger nuns, she was finally in her room. It was a simple room with a small bed - that was all she needed for now. Claire didn't bother getting the rest of her suitcase from the car but took only a change of clothes for the night. Within 5 minutes of laying her head down, she fell asleep.
Sometime late in the evening, she was roused to a loud bang. She bolted right up and heard panicked voices and running feet outside the corridor. What the fuck was that? She grabbed her phone and keys, and clad only in her nightgown, went outside to see what the commotion was. She was approached by a distressed young nun. "Miss Claire, Miss Claire, please help gather the children for evacuation, there's a fire in the west wing."
"Of course, I'm on it." Without bothering to go back to the bedroom, calmly Claire managed to guide as many children as possible towards the emergency exit. She can hear the sirens and firemen's voices amongst the screams of children and women.
After guiding the last group of children on her floor to safety, Claire decided to head up to the next storey, not realising the upper level was thick with smoke. As she made it to the top of the steps, she started to choke, and her eyes began to sting. Panic-stricken, Claire looked down and below was a very tall fireman running up the stairs towards her. And before she knew what was happening, she blacked-out.
In the dark recesses of her mind, Claire was aware she was being carried away. She felt the cold air on her face and heard emergency sirens from what seemed like a distance. All she wanted to do was to drift off back to sleep and curl up into the strong, warm arms holding her. It was a comforting sensation to be held and to feel safe.
Then consciousness got a grasp of her, and realisation seeped in- the orphanage was on fire! Her eyes suddenly flew open only to be met by a pair of the bluest she'd ever seen. Claire blinked twice in an attempt to clear the fogginess in her head, but the man carrying her continued to stare as if she was some sort of alien. She searched his soot-covered face, but he remained inscrutable.
Finding her wits, at last, Claire made a futile attempt to wriggle her way out of the man's tight hold. Clearing her voice, she implored, "Let me down please, let me down...the children in the building..." Her voice sounded hoarse to her ears, but the fireman didn't yield his grip. He was saying something, barely audible in an unfamiliar tongue as he cradled her like a baby.
Unexpectedly, she was handed over to two men from the emergency unit and to add to her confusion, her rescuer left without saying another word. From the arms of the paramedics, Claire glanced back at the disappearing form of the tall fireman as he made his way back into the smoke-filled building. Damn, those blue eyes!
Snapping back to reality, Claire turned her attention to the two paramedics who were trying to ease her down on the wheeled stretcher. "I said let me down right this minute...really, I'm alright."
"Now miss, please calm down. Just a quick examination. Are ye hurting anywhere?" A young male medic was peering into her eyes with a pen torch. "Aaah ye have bonny eyes" The young man smiled.
"Stop that!" Claire slapped a probing hand away, "I'm a doctor, and really for the hundredth time, I'm alright. If you have a spare uniform to lend, I can help. Are you even listening?" The two men fussing over her stopped, looked at each other, hesitated for a moment and then nodded.
"Ye sure miss, ye can stand?" Claire nodded and stood up to prove that she can stand on her own.
There was no time to mess about. If the lady wants to help, we need all the extra hands we can get.
"Aye, alright then...right in there, there's a spare uniform." informed the dark-haired young man with a badge, T. Christie engraved on it. He pointed towards the ambulance vehicle for Claire, "You can dress in there, and I'll close the door. We need all the help we can get...we're a wee bit understaff, ye ken."
"Aye, I ken," Claire replied, mimicking his accent, before climbing into the ambulance to change into a more appropriate garb.
For the next hour, Claire tirelessly worked side by side with the emergency staff guiding the children to safety, handing out oxygen masks to those who needed it and helping those who were injured onto the stretcher. Much to her relief, Mother Hildegarde suffered only a mild smoke inhalation and was immediately taken to the hospital. As for the rest, everyone from the orphanage made it to safety with some minor injuries.
Claire had no problem navigating through the frenzied confusion. She was a trained doctor after all and knew the ins and outs of a medical emergency. The other medical workers have given up trying to assist her. It was pretty apparent that she knew what she was doing and worked very well under stress.
Time flew by quickly, and Claire was surprised when she realised, the frenetic activities around her were winding down. As she gratefully retrieved a bottle of water from one of the medics, Claire saw her rescuer reemerged from the building. Although she couldn't see his face, she recognised him from his height, breadth and the way he walked. He was prominently taller and stood out from the rest of the firemen.
She heard him shout, "All clear!" as he gave thumbs-up to his colleagues. Without much thought, Claire walked towards his direction. She wanted to thank him for rescuing her and his bravery.
"Erm, excuse me..." she started trying to get the tall man's attention.
To Claire's surprise, he raised his hand, and without looking at her, he stopped her mid-sentence: "Sorry not now, I'm busy..." and walked away.
The bloody Scot didn't even recognise me! Fuming, Claire walked the opposite direction.
Although Joe should have been home hours ago, he had opted to stay in the doctor's mess room. He didn't think he could unwind after the previous night's events, and besides, Gail's shift would be over soon-it was nearly 5 am.
Wandering through the cafeteria, he was surprised to see Jamie sitting alone and staring into space. He went and bought them both a cup of coffee before approaching him.
"Hey, need some company?"
"Oh! Aye, take a seat." Jamie rubbed his face in rapid motion and sat up and smiled at the sight of coffee. "Thank ye, I was about to get one."
"Out on bail?" Joe knew already he wouldn't stay long in jail.
"Aye. How's Christie?"
"He'll live. That was some punch you threw at Tom. What were you thinking, Jamie?"
"I dinna ken. I saw red, I suppose. The coppers weren't impressed at all," he joked, not feeling guilty about last night's misdemeanour.
There was a moment of silence between the two men as they drank their coffee.
"You need not be here, you know. You should go home and rest. Claire is no longer in danger," Joe said in-between sips of his coffee.
"Ye said she's pregnant. How did that happen?"
Joe looked incredulous. "Seriously, Jamie? You had sex, that's what happened. Don't you guys use any form of protection or birth control? I know she said she couldn't have any babies...but still!"
Jamie ignored his question. "Does she know?"
"I haven't told her yet...she's still unconscious. Anyway, I intended to tell you first because I was unsure of the effects of Ketamine on the fetus. You see, she received quite a high dose. Out there it's often used as a recreational drug, but recently there are a lot of cases of it being used as a date rape drug. Its effect is almost immediate, making it more effective for its sinister use. In the right amount of dosage, it should wear off in an hour, but Claire ingested a substantial amount and to make matters worse, it was mixed in alcohol. It could have been fatal if she had not received medical attention immediately. There is no antidote for its overdoses, but we have given her a drug to counteract the symptoms. So you might find her drugged to her eyeball for a couple of days. As for the fetus, there is no telling...I'm sorry."
"Christ! I thought it would have just been a matter of flushing the drug out of her system...fuck." Jamie slammed his fist on the table, rattling the coffee cups. "So, ye think Christie had some ill intentions towards Claire?" He was about to say rape, but he couldn't bring himself to say the word. Jamie could feel his anger rising again.
"Pure speculations Jamie. But he will remain detained until proven innocent. It is plausible that he put the Ketamine in her drink because we have them here in the hospital, and it is accessible to him. We use them for anaesthetic purposes. Now the thing is, the drug comes in a variety of forms. Pharmaceutical Ketamine is usually liquid. On the street, it is more common to see tablets or white crystalline powder. And Claire ingested the liquid form."
Jamie shut his eyes tight, inhaling deeply through his nostrils. When he finally exhaled, he noticed his hands were clenched tightly. "I'm no sorry now that I punched the daylight outa that prick."
Noticing his anger, Joe quickly changed the subject. "Don't get your hopes up but if the fetus does survive, have you thought what that would mean for you?"
His tactic worked, Jamie's face broke into a grin. "I'm going to be a da. Can ye tell already if it's a boy or girl?"
Joe coughed, not expecting that reaction. He is now unsure if he made the right choice asking him that question in case there was a disappointment in the end. "No, Jamie...not for another at least 7 weeks. And by the way, I saw on the report that Claire is 5 weeks pregnant...that's around the time when she first arrived here in Inverness. Didn't one of you think of using a condom? It's not just about birth control we're talking about here...there's also sexually transmitted diseases to think about. Oh God, did you have sex on the first day you met? "
"Aye we did," he replied grinning, looking very pleased with himself. "Weel... normally I would have used a condom, it's just that we had a lot to drink and Claire was so beautiful and then..."
Joe stopped him, not wanting to hear anymore. "You know what? Forget that I asked. I don't want to know what happened before conception!" He rolled his eyes as he let out a frustrated sigh.
"But ye're a doctor. Surely ye hear it all the time..."
He glared at him. "Jamie, for crying out loud! We're talking about Claire here. She's like my sister. I'm not interested in hearing about her or your sexual escapade. Jesus!"
Now it was Jamie's turn to change the subject. "Anyway, can ye picture me being a da?"
"No. Not really."
"What do ye mean, no? If ye think I'm going to leave Claire because of her pregnancy..."
"Jamie, listen. It's not as simple as that. A baby will need a family...a father. Are you ready to have a family of your own? Have you thought about marriage?"
"Aye, of course, I have. Weel, what I mean to say is, I was thinking about it before ye came. And what do ye take me for? Ye think I'll run away because Claire is pregnant?" Jamie looked shocked that Joe would think he would abandon Claire.
"It's not only about what Claire wants Jaime. It's also about what you want. Do you really want this? Baby, Claire and the whole family thing..."
"Joe, I know ye're concerned about yer friend. I want ye to know that I will be doing the right thing for Claire, not because it is the right thing, but because I love her."
"Yeah, that's nice, and all, but both of you have been separated longer than you've been together. Falling in love is not the same as loving someone..."
"You know Joe, once I asked my da how ye knew which was the right woman, weel, he told me when the time came, I'd have no doubt. My da was right. That night when I first laid eyes on her at St. Agnes, I knew she was the one."
"Did you tell Claire how you feel?"
"Aye, but I don't know if she feels the same way. What do ye think? Did she tell ye?"
Joe shifted uncomfortably. "Well Jaime, the only way to find out is to ask her yourself."
..........
Jamie slowly opened the door, careful not to make a noise. He had been explicitly told by Joe that Claire needed a lot of bed rest. So he was surprised to see Claire awake and smiling when he came in.
"Och, ye're awake..." He had brought her a tray of assorted Danish pastry which he knew she loved and placed them on the table before pulling a chair next to her bed. Before he could sit down, he noticed Claire had an odd look on her face.
He smiled at her as he placed a hand on her cheek. "Are ye alright, Sassenach? How are ye feeling?"
Claire extended her arms towards him and said dreamily, "Give me a kiss lover boy!"
His eyes widened at the greeting. Finding Claire's response a bit unusual, Jamie hesitantly leaned down to kiss her on the forehead. But before he could raise his head, her strong arms had pulled him down by the neck. She kissed him passionately, her tongue darting daintily to get a taste of him. He responded but pulled away abruptly, thinking she was not herself. "Christ Claire, what are ye doing?"
To his surprise, she unexpectedly sat up and looked at Jamie with twinkling golden eyes and an impish grin. Biting her lower lip, she provocatively looked him over. "Come 'ere Jamie and give me some of your sweet lovin'," Claire slurred. She was staring at him like he was some savoury dish to be devoured.
"Oh, sweet Jesus, Sassenach, ye're still drugged. Ye should lie down!" Jamie tried to gently force her down back to bed, but instead, she threw the covers aside and got onto her knees facing him, her hands reaching for the buckle of his belt. Wearing only a thin hospital gown and the hazy glow of sunlight casting a shadow, he could see the outline of her body and her breasts. Oh, God! Disengaging her hands from the front of his jeans, took a mammoth effort. Not because of her strength but more because of his rapidly dwindling self-control. He firmly put her hands away from him and backed away. "Claire, listen to me, ye need to lie down..." he said slowly and deliberate, not quite sure how to deal with the situation.
"I don't need to lie down...I feel good, and you look good. So, come here, love and give me a kiss." She puckered her lips in invitation.
Jamie was beginning to get nervous. "Sassenach, ye're heavily medicated, so ye're not acting yourself. So be a good lass and get under the covers. I'll only come to ye once ye're lying down." he said in an unsteady voice.
She sat back on her heels and pouted prettily, one hand resting on her thigh and the other slowly raising the hem of her gown. "Don't you want me, Jamie love?" Oh Christ Almighty, of course, I want ye!
Taking big deep breaths and braving the risk of what could potentially happen if he touched her again, Jamie made another attempt. "Claire, please, ye need rest and all these excitement cannae be good for ye. Well...it's certainly not good for me," he muttered, reaching out to grab her so he can lift her and lay her down.
Instead of cooperating, Claire dodged Jamie's hands, raised herself on her knees and flung both arms around his neck. "Lock the door..." she whispered huskily into his ears, "...and then kiss me." She ran her tongue on the edge of his ear before biting his earlobe.
His hands having a mind of their own, landed on her round arse, fondling it as Claire rubbed herself against Jamie. "Now, Sassenach, why would I want to lock the door?" he replied hoarsely. He could hear hospital activities happening outside on the corridor, and he was on the verge of committing public indecency. It's been over 3 weeks since they had made love and his restraint is about to snap.
"Because I want to take a peek," she giggled as one hand suddenly grabbed Jamie between his thighs.
Gasping, he seized her wrist away from his growing bulge. "Oh, fuck! Sassenach! For someone who has small hands, ye have some firm grip on ye. And I dinna want ye taking a peek!"
"Why not?! How about I let you see mine first? Then I'll take a peek at yours" she grinned coquettishly, leaning back to take a better look at his face, "After all, fair is fair, right, Jamie?"
He grabbed both her hands and held them behind her back, gripping them in place, making her head tilt to the side. "No, Claire! Naebody is taking a peek at anything..." His words trailed off as his eyes rested on the smooth line of her neck. He could almost see the pulsation of her vein as Claire struggled to set her hands free. On impulse, Jaime kissed the spot, before trailing down to the base of her throat, making her quiver. Then he remembered and backed away. "Christ Sassenach, ye're not making this easy for me are ye?"
She winked as she grinned wickedly, "Well if you won't come here, you can watch me instead. Would you like to watch Jaime?" Her hands were already sliding between her thighs, and he knew anyone can come through the door any minute.
"Fine Sassenach, I'll lock the door and don't ye dare make a sound..." he said, giving her warning look.
Door safely locked, he turned back once more to Claire to find her standing barefoot beside the bed, swaying on her feet. "Go back to bed now!" he growled. Damn ye woman! He was amused by how quickly she scrambled under the covers.
Claire settled in, he got into bed with her, lying on his side with his head propped by his elbow. "Jamie..." She was looking expectantly at him, her eyes, although dilated was dark with want. Gone was the giddy, sultry seductress she was moments ago. He knew he wanted to take her there and then, but he couldn't. Not here and not like this even though he was dying inside. Instead...
"Shh Sassenach," he whispered softly as he moved his free hand slowly under the cover and under her gown. There he squeezed the soft, warm flesh before parting her thighs gently. Her golden eyes widened, and her hips began to move, as his forefinger travelled to the moist patch of her panties, tracing the lines of her cleft and her sensitive spot. A faint moan escaped her lips as she closed her eyes in ecstasy, making him dizzy with want. Then he slipped his hand under the waistband, cupping the heat between her legs before dipping his forefinger into her wetness and stroking the silky fold long and slow. She let out a loud gasp as she arched her back, her hand reaching for him to take her.
"I want you inside me..." she whimpered, her breath quickening.
Jamie could see her hard nipples against the thin fabric of her gown, as her chest heaved at every stroke of his finger. "No, Sassenach, I want to watch ye," he murmured as he lightly touched her lips with his, resisting the urge to kiss her thoroughly. He pressed his fingers inside her, thrusting, stroking, dipping and rubbing, her hips lifting to push herself against his hands. She writhed and squirmed with wanton abandonment, her thighs spreading wider apart for deeper penetration. She was so hot and wet, and her throaty moans were making his head swim. He plunged deeper, his thumb grinding the sensitive spot until he felt her clamped around his fingers tightly and her body began to shake uncontrollably. She let out a cry before collapsing next to him, her breaths warm against his neck, and her thighs tightly clamped around his hands. Claire held on to him like that until tiredness took over and her body began to relax.
Claire smiled, drowsily at him as her body eased. "Jamie, I never got to take a peek."
"Sshh sleep now, mo chridhe," he murmured, kissing her on the forehead, before releasing his hands from between her thighs. Then he got up and straightened her gown before pulling the covers to her neck.
"Jamie?"
"Aye Sassenach?" He took her hand in his as he watched her eyes began to get heavier, and her head bobbed, as she struggled to stay lucid.
"I love you," she whispered before drifting off to sleep, her hands going limp in his. He smiled a very broad smile. Jamie wanted to hug her but thought better of it. She needed her rest, so he watched her sleep instead, feeling content with the world.
Today's problems can be tomorrow's, he thought.
Then Jaime received a phone text from Finn, the bartender from the Scotch & Rye Pub.
Jamie, please come ASAP to the bar. I have some footage from our surveillance camera I want you to see.
