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He glances at me over his shoulder from his squatting position. He's been fiddling with the wood stove. "Invade all ye like, love. I've only had a woman in my house twice, not counting when the sisters decorated my house."
"The other woman was Fiona, right?"
"Aye."
While he goes back to fiddling with the stove, I wander toward what looks like the kitchen doorway. I take a quick peek at his ass along the way. Can't help it. He's squatting there in a way that highlights his taut bottom. When he catches me admiring is glutes, he smirks and winks.
The kitchen is amazing, though not overly fancy. I can picture Thane whipping up a Scottish breakfast in here and delivering it to me in bed. My ex-husband never treated me that way. If he made breakfast, it was scrambled eggs and buttered toast, nothing else. I would have to go retrieve my favorite strawberry jam from the refrigerator myself.
I know Thane would never make me do that.
But I would gladly serve him breakfast.
My perusal of the kitchen is now complete, so I walk away from the window that must give Thane a beautiful view of his property in the daytime. I've just turned away from the window when I hear an odd noise outside. It sounded like...a humming cow. No, I must have imagined that. I won't mention my humming-cow delusion to Thane.
By the time I've inspected the one and only bedroom, my tummy has started to grumble. I take a gander at the bathroom too, which is part of the bedroom. I hadn't expected Thane to have a spacious and fancy bathroom, but of course, Fiona and her sisters are responsible for that. They gave Thane a huge king-size bed too.
When I return to the living room, the fire is already burning and producing enough heat to warm me up.
Thane could do that all by himself, no stove required.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Thane
No man could wake up in the morning to a better sight than what I have before me. Rebecca lies beside me, naked, with her torso exposed. She had fallen asleep with the blanket covering all of her, but during the night, she had somehow moved about enough to pull the blanket down to her waist. Maybe she did that on purpose. I hadn't noticed any of her movements.
Ah, but I love drinking in the vision of her bonnie tits.
We both slept naked. It had been Rebecca's idea.
No, I didn't argue with her about that.
Now, the lass's eyes flutter open, and she yawns. I can see all her teeth and get a wee glimpse of her tonsils. Aye, that was quite a yawn.
When her gaze lands on me, she smiles lazily. "Good morning, Mr. Bond."
"My surname is Buchanan. Have ye already forgotten who you slept with last night?"
"You were a spy. That makes you James Bond in my book. Only you're much sexier than even Sean Connery was, and that's a high bar to vault over."
"As a veteran of multiple rounds of Highland games and a strongman competition, I feel quite certain of my status as tougher than a film star. But I am not a spy."
She rolls on top of me, then sits up to straddle my thighs. "You worked for a covert agency, right? That makes you a spy. Give it up, Thane. You'll never convince me you weren't a secret agent."
"I was an agent, but in the MOD, that doesn't mean what it sounds like."
"Yeah, I know. You explained that last night." She draws circles on my chest with one finger, leaning forward a wee bit. Her hair falls over her cheeks. "You will always be a secret agent to me."
"But I can't do any karate kicks, and I don't have a cyanide pill embedded in one of my molars."
She straightens and spreads her arms out to stretch. Her lips curve into a sensual smile. "Let's have sex before breakfast."
"First, I'd best check the wood stove. Cannae have you getting a chill."
"You think of everything. Hard to believe you haven't dated much. I mean, you're the perfect boyfriend, so attentive and thoughtful, but tough when you need to be."
She stretches again, shutting her eyes briefly. Then the lass veers her gaze toward the window above the bed.
