Chapter Five
Ian slid his hand up her soft, curved inner thigh until he reached the downy curls he sought. The trousers she wore prevented him from cupping her and feeling her the way he wanted, but his fingers still found what he was looking for.
She was wet and ready for him.
Bringing his hand back down and out of her pant leg, he laid his palm over her soft, flat belly, before unbuttoning several of her trouser fastenings.
A knock on the door broke the spell cast over them, and he barked out, “What?”
“Cap’n, I got yer dinner tray,” Cook said.
“Bring it back in an hour.” Ian’s gaze never left her hungry, ocean-blue eyes.
“It’ll get cold, Cap’n.”
It was his own fault that he’d forgotten that he’d asked the man to bring him the tray, though at the time he’d spoken to Seamus, he did
