Chapter Ten
The wedding was lovely.
Meaning it was short. And simple. And over quickly.
Neither Duncan nor Catherine bothered to change, but she did insist on washing the blood from her hands. Wild woman though she was, she did have some standards.
Bower had arranged rooms for them in a local inn, so when the ceremony was over, they walked down the road and had a nice meal and a soft bed awaiting them.
To Catherine’s way of thinking, that was really all one needed in life.
And perhaps a new dress.
Hers was horribly tattered.
Bower had also arranged for a bath in their room, which was a luxury that nearly brought Catherine to tears. She’d been on the road for days and felt covered with grime and grit and did not like the idea of consummating her marriage to Duncan with dirty fingernails.
Showing himself to be the caring husband he would be, he did not put up a fuss at this delay. Indeed, he seemed quite pleased at the prospect of bathing her. As the door closed on them, sealing them in this private bower as husband and wife, he leaned against it and crossed his arms. His eyes lit on her and his lips quirked wickedly. “Are you ready for your bath?” he asked.
“I am.”
“Then you must undress.”
Something sizzled through her belly. Bravely she tipped up her chin. “You must turn around,” she said.
“Why?”
“I’ve never disrobed in front of a man before.”
“I am gratified to hear it,” he said with a grin.
“Duncan Mackay. Does it not occur to you that I might be shy?”
He winced with chagrin, but it didn’t last long. His handsome chin firmed. He cupped her shoulders with his palms. “We are married now. There is no need for shyness.”
“I can’t help it.” It was unlike her, and she didn’t completely understand her diffidence, but there it was.
“I have an idea. Close your eyes.”
“What?” She gaped at him.
“Close your eyes. That way there is no need to be shy.”
“Duncan, that doesn’t make any sense at all.”
“Of course it does. Try it.” He set a palm over her eyes and obligingly, she closed them. “Do you feel shy now?”
She shook her head with a laugh.
“Excellent. Turn around.”
She did so, and felt the domino slip from her shoulders. And then a breath of cool air as the top button of her dress came undone. This was followed by a wet warmth as he pressed his lips to the back of her neck. “Ah, Duncan . . .” She tried to turn around and he stopped her.
“Keep your eyes closed.”
As he made his way down the long line of buttons, she forced herself to hold still, even though he took long moments to tantalize and torment each patch of skin he revealed. By the time she was completely unbuttoned, she was a quivering flan.
She kept her eyes closed as he eased the dress from her shoulders and then shivered when she heard his sigh. “You’re lovely, wee Cat,” he whispered, and then he led her to the bath.
The water was warm and delightful and she sank into it with a shudder of delight. She kept her eyes closed tightly as Duncan lovingly washed her body, lathered her hair and cleansed her.
But then, there was a change in the tenor of his touch. It became deliciously wicked. He began swirling the cloth around her nipples until they stood out painfully. When she groaned, he made his way down to her belly, and lower, taking care to clean her thoroughly there as well.
He had to know what he was doing to her. He had to know.
Indeed, he did. He slowly brought her to absolute heaven, making her ache and gasp for more. And then, with his fingers on her nub and his lips on her breasts, he brought her to that delirious place she’d visited only once before.
When she recovered and was able to rouse herself from the water, he was there with a warm towel, which he wrapped around her. But when he bent to kiss her, she stopped him.
His expression was priceless. “What?” he squawked.
She pointed to the tub. “I think you need a bath too.”
He frowned, glanced at her covered breasts, at her adamant expression . . . and then started madly tugging off his clothes.
Apparently, he was not shy in the least.
And she found the courage within her to not look away.
Indeed, it was fascinating. He was fascinating.
Once he had splashed into the water, she stood before him and deliberately dropped her towel.
How enthralling to see his cock snap to attention. She smiled at him wickedly.
“I think you need me to bathe you,” she said, bending to pick up the cloth. “Close your eyes.”
“Hell no. I’m watching this.”
“That’s hardly fair. I’m shy, remember?”
The muscle in his cheek bunched. “I’m watching.” He nodded in her direction. “Get to it.”
And so she did.
Oh, she washed him very thoroughly and with exquisite attention to his bunching muscles, his velvet nut-brown skin, the alluring mat of hair on his chest. And then, there was the most mesmerizing part of him, that long thick root that responded to her every touch.
“Duncan?” she said as the curled her fingers around him.
He winced. “Aye, my love?”
“Do you remember that thing you did in the conservatory?”
He groaned. “Of course. I think of it every night.”
“Every night?”
“And most days. What was your question?”
“Do women ever do that to men?”
Good lord! She’d never seen a man move so fast!
He was up out of the water in a flash, yanked her into his arms and carried her over to the bed. He tossed her onto the tick and then lowered himself over her.
“Duncan, you’re wet,” she squealed.
“I doona care. All I care about, all I think about, all I need, is this.”
And he kissed her.
It was a lovely kiss, as wild as the Scottish tors, as fresh as the heather growing in the fields, as sweet as the kiss of a summer breeze.
His hands roved, touching her everywhere, making her forget his wetness, making her aware of her own. When she was wild and panting and crazed, when she raked him with impatient fingernails and demanded that he finish her, he did.
Ah lord. He did.
He levered over her and gently eased her legs apart. With cock in his fist, he circled her tender nub, rubbing himself over her, covering himself with her arousal and then . . . and then . . . he slipped in.
She sucked in a breath, then released a soft groan.
He stilled immediately. “Am I hurting you?” he asked in an agonized voice.
“No, no,” she whimpered. “More. Please.”
“Oh, thank God,” he gushed, and then he slipped deeper.
She’d never felt such delight, never knew it could be like this. The fullness, the heat, his scent surrounding her—it made her head spin. He eased out, but before she could protest, he came back in and she wailed her delight. Unable to control herself in her ecstasy, she bit his neck. Just a nibble, but it seemed to make him wild as well.
He lost hold on the reins and began to move, harder, faster, rougher.
He leaned back, lifted her legs and held onto her hips for leverage as he pounded in to her. Her first crisis was fast in coming. It washed over her like a riotous wave. But what surprised her was that there was another and yet another.
As Duncan fucked her, her body tightened on his, and his on hers, until it felt as though they were both on the edge of the abyss, sawing at each other’s naked nerves and heading for a delicious, but precipitous, drop.
When it took them, they fell together in a glorious tumble that seemed to last forever. Roiling through her and him, binding them together in a physical way, but in a spiritual way as well. When it was over, she was breathless, but even that was a magnificent ache. Her heart thudded wildly, but it beat in tandem with his.
He moved slowly then, in and out, as though he couldn’t bear for this to end.
But then, neither could she.
It had been everything she had wanted and more.
He was everything she’d wanted and more.
He kissed her again as he eased out and she sighed.
“Are you all right, my love?” he asked as he rolled onto his back.
She laughed, but it was a tired laugh. “That was magnificent.”
He puffed out his chest. “Really? Magnificent?”
She turned to smile at him, her Duncan with his head next to hers on the pillow. “Of course, magnificent. Is it always like this?”
“I would imagine so. I did advise you that we kiss well together.”
“We definitely do.”
They were silent for a moment, staring at the ceiling, listening to the crackle of the fire in the hearth and reveling in the afterglow. Then he said, “Catherine, do you think you will be happy with me?”
The hint of worry in his words bothered her. How could he not know the answer to that?
“I mean, you did mention you still were annoyed by my actions all those years ago.”
Oh. That. “Bower explained why you were so mean to me.”
“Was I so horrid?”
“You were brutal.”
“I am sorry, my darling. I dinna mean to be. And how did Bower explain this?”
“He said I put you in a difficult position by being besotted with you.”
“Were you?”
“You know I was.”
“I remember only that I was besotted with you, and had to hide it.”
“I do understand that . . . But there is something I still don’t understand.”
He pulled her closer and nuzzled her brow. “What is it, my darling?”
“Why did you leave, without saying goodbye?”
His smile was pained. “Do you no’ know?”
“No. I don’t.”
He huffed a laugh, but there was little humor in it. “Your father gave me the sack.”
She lurched away and sat up, frowning down at him. “What? Why?”
“Do you no’ know?”
She blew out a sigh “Why do you assume I know all these things?”
He tugged her back down into his arms. Where, frankly, she belonged. “Your father suspected how you felt about me.”
“How could he suspect?” she sniffed. She’d ever told anyone.
“He saw it in your eyes, love. And he knew how I felt about you.”
“You loved me.”
“Of course I did. He saw what was coming, what was inevitable. And it made him furious.”
“Because I was so young?”
He laughed then. “If I’d been a duke or an earl, your age wouldna ha’ mattered in the least. I was a stable hand. A pauper. To him, I was the worst you could do and he wasn’t having it. He ran me off with a dire warning to never come back.”
“And did you?”
“Aye. I did. But when I came back, you were gone. To London, of all places.”
“Timing has not been kind to us.”
“It hardly matters, does it? We have each other now. Now and forever.”
“That brings me to another question.” She levered up on her elbow so she could peer down at him, but he was mostly interested in her nipple, which he took between his lips. “Do stop that,” she said.
“Why?” He sucked harder.
“Because you make me forget what I was saying.”
“Mmmm,” he murmured, then proceeded to make her forget more.
After a while she had to pull away, because she had a very important question to ask, if only she could remember it—
Oh yes.
“Do you like living in London?”
“What?”
Clearly not the question he’d been expecting if, indeed, he had been expecting one. His hand had drifted down to her belly and he was making entrancing circles there.
“London. Do you like living in London?”
He stilled and glanced into her eyes. “If you’re there.”
She blew out a sigh. “Be serious, Duncan. This is important.”
“I am being serious. Do you no’ know? I would happily live on the moon, if you were there.”
“I daresay the moon is cold.”
“Most probably. But there you have it.”
“Would you miss Scotland if we lived in London?”
His smile dimmed. “I would. But I would rather have you by my side.”
She tried not to sigh, but honestly. He was being so difficult. Why couldn’t he just answer the question? “And if you had your choice, where would you rather live?”
“With you.”
She smacked him on the shoulder. She had to. “Duncan, I’m trying to figure out what kind of life you want to live.”
“And I’ve told you. I doona care. As long as you are by my side. Why do you no’ decide?”
“Me?” That seemed to be an awful lot of responsibility sitting on her shoulders.
“Do you enjoy life in London?”
“A little. Some things.”
“Such as?”
She made a face. “My friends. The ices at Gunter’s?”
“And what do you dislike?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Honestly?”
“Aye, honestly.”
“Everything else.”
His eyes brightened, which made her feel extraordinarily gratified that she’d told the truth. “So you would rather live in Scotland?” he asked, with a hint of hope in his tone.
“Oh yes.” She sighed. “I love the tors and lochs. I love the people and the weather.”
“And the heather.”
“Especially that.”
“Then it’s settled.” He kissed her nose. “We’ll live in Scotland, and maybe, occasionally, visit your friends in London.”
“I would love that.” Her brow puckered. “But where shall we live?”
His grin was broad. “I have a house.”
“Do you?”
“A lovely estate. One you may be familiar with.”
She stilled and stared at him, a prescience prickling up her neck. “Not Halkirk Wilds?” The home she’d loved so much. The place where she’d fallen in love with a man who was utterly improper for a girl of her station. Utterly improper, but totally perfect.
“The one and only.” He peered at her though his lashes. “Are you happy, my love?”
He had no idea. “So very happy,” she said, kissing him gently. “So very happy.”
And then the kiss became something wild.
And then, something very improper indeed.