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  He rather suspected it was the latter when after the stunned pause, she made no secret of her interest—her great interest—in every facet of his body. Good God, the lass shouldn’t look at him like that unless she was prepared to act on all that lust she was casting in his direction. He was liable to forget that he needed to leave, and that she was probably in no condition to be ravished after the ravishing of the night before.

  Her face fell as he drew on his braies. “You’re leaving? You can’t go yet.”

  The vehemence of her protest took an edge off some of the sting of waking up to find her gone. “It will be morning soon. Where were you?”

  She frowned, catching something in his tone. Closing the door behind her, she walked toward him. “I’m sorry if I woke you. I tried to be quiet.” She bit her lip, heat rising up her cheeks. “I needed to use the garderobe.”

  “You were gone a long time.”

  That probably wasn’t the most delicate thing he’d ever said in his life, but damn it, this was a new experience for him, and he was feeling …

  Uncertain. As if he were sailing in unchartered waters. He’d never been in a situation like this before. A situation where he needed to know that everything was all right. Nay, better than all right. He needed to know that she was all right, that he hadn’t hurt her, that it had been just as incredible for her as it had been for him.

  The heat in her cheeks deepened. “There was some blood. I used a cloth and the pitcher of water in your room, so as to not disturb you. Did I do something wrong? Are you angry with me about something?” Her mouth trembled as she looked up at him.

  “Ah, Christ,” he said, drawing her into his arms. The feeling of warmth and contentment that he’d missed upon waking returned instantly. He was acting like a scorned lass. “I’m sorry. Nothing is wrong, and of course I’m not angry with you.” He tipped her chin, bringing her luminous eyes to his. “What would I have to be angry with you about?”

  She gnawed on that wickedly crimson bottom lip a few more times before responding. “I thought you might be regretting what … what we did.”

  His gaze held hers intently. “I don’t regret anything that happened last night.” His thumb caressed the part of her lip that had just been bitten. “How could I?”

  The smile started out slow, but it didn’t take long to light her whole face. The warmth radiated inside him as well.

  “I’m glad. It was … wonderful,” she finished with a sigh. Her grin turned cheeky. “I guess I’d forgotten how cranky you can be in the morning.”

  He drew back. “Cranky? I’m not cranky.”

  She arched one delicate, dark brow.

  All right, well, maybe he was occasionally—though very rarely—a little out of sorts in the morning. But not today. “I just wasn’t expecting to wake up alone.”

  The second brow shot up to join the other, this time in surprise. “What did you think, that I’d skulked away in shame and left you?”

  He frowned—darkly. “Of course not.”

  “You did!” Amusement danced in her eyes. “You did think that.” She put the back of her hand up against her forehead in mock horror. “The most handsome man in Scotland abandoned in bed, what has the world come to?”

  His eyes narrowed with warning at her teasing. “Christ, not you, too! I wish I knew who’d come up with that ridiculous moniker, so I could devise some kind of horrible torture to return the favor.”

  She laughed, lifted up on her toes, and pressed a soft kiss on his mouth. The easy display of affection surprised him. But he suspected he might be able to get used to it.

  “Poor Gregor. I’m sure it’s been horrible having women falling at your feet all the time.”

  He grinned wryly. “Aye, well, maybe it wasn’t so bad all the time, but you haven’t met Hawk.”

  “Who?”

  Hell, he’d spoken without thinking. He’d relaxed his guard, he realized. It probably should bother him more than it did, but he trusted her. Cate was entirely without artifice and didn’t have a deceitful bone in her body—it was what made her so different, and what drew him to her. She was real. He didn’t need to worry about games or ploys or manipulations.

  “A friend,” he said, waving off the subject.

  Instinctively, his hand had slid around her waist when she’d kissed him, but having that warm, taut body pressed against him was beginning to take its toll. He let her go and stepped back. “I should go.”

  “No, not yet.” She had that crushed, disappointed look on her face that hit him squarely between the ribs. “It isn’t morning. Can’t you stay a little longer?”

  Not if he didn’t want to make her more sore than she already must be. His gaze flickered to the bed, an unconscious indication of the direction of his thoughts. The smile that crept up her features this time was decidedly more sensual and scheming. Her hands came up slowly over his naked chest to loop around his neck. Her body slid up against him like a wildcat, sleek and dangerous—and every bit as deadly. Especially the pointy nipples stabbing him in the chest. They killed him.

  She circled her hips against him. “Please, don’t go.”

  Perhaps she had more artifice than he realized. Who the hell would have guessed she could play the seductive siren? But play it well, she did. He was good and seduced.

  She peeked up at him naughtily from under her lashes. “Didn’t you say something about my chemise next time?”

  He really had to stop swearing around her so much, but the lass really knew how to push him in all the right places.

  He could push a few of his own. Pushing her back on the bed, he ripped the offending garment away to reveal a body that had every right to be worshipped.

  He’d never seen another woman so perfectly formed. She was all long, lean muscle, slender and strong, with little extra flesh to mar the graceful, feminine lines. For despite the obvious strength in her limbs, she was undeniably feminine with gently curved hips, delicately rounded breasts, and a lush little bottom with an expertly placed dimple or two.

  He told her exactly how beautiful she was in words, and then with his mouth and tongue. The feel of her coming apart against his mouth drove him wild. He hadn’t intended to take her again, but she had other ideas and didn’t seem to mind too much—especially when he was deep inside her, and she was crying his name and begging him to go harder, as he pounded and shuddered inside her.

  It would have been perfect if a moment after rolling off her, his brother hadn’t come bursting through the door, “Cate, you—”

  Seeing them on the bed, John stopped dead in his tracks. Shock was followed by a look of condemnation that made Gregor feel all the guilt that he probably should have felt much earlier.

  Fifteen

  “You bastard!”

  Instinctively Gregor blocked Cate behind him, as if he could somehow shield her from the unpleasantness of the situation.

  It would have been bad enough with just John as witness, but his brother hadn’t come barging in alone. Ete and Lizzie were standing behind him. Unlike his brother, however, they were considerate enough to back away quickly and not stand there radiating condemnation.

  Not that it wasn’t deserved, damn it. But Gregor didn’t want Cate to accidentally get in the way of anger that should be directed toward him, and him alone.

  “I will see you in the solar,” Gregor said pointedly.

  John ignored him, taking another step into the room, every muscle in his body flaring with outrage. “How could you do this?” He must not have expected Gregor to answer because he immediately added, “You’ll damn well marry her. Even if I have to drag you to the church door myself.”

  Cate made her first sound since her initial gasp on the door opening. “No, John—”

  Gregor cut her off with a squeeze of her hand that rested on the bed between them. “Your escort won’t be necessary, brother. I have every intention of marrying her.”

  “You do?” Cate said at the same time as John—with equal su