Andrew narrowed his gaze at her. “The Belgrade family does not have a tartan.”
Her gaze remained deceptively innocent. “Pledging your allegiance to Malcolm as his uncle would allow you to wear the McGregor tartan.” She gave him a considering look. “I am sure one of Hugh’s kilts would fit you.”
As Andrew didn’t recall Hugh McGregor particularly well, he wasn’t sure whether or not his own build was the same as his deceased brother-in-law’s had been. In any case, he had thought kilts were simply made up of a length of the clan tartan wrapped in folds and secured about a man’s waist. As Andrew had no intention of wearing a kilt, in the McGregor tartan or otherwise, it was of no significance.
“Oh would you, Uncle?” Malcolm’s expression brightened at the idea. “You could stand behind me alongside Aunt Cat, and I could introduce you to each member of the clan as they take a knee before me.”
Andrew could see that Catriona was less than happy at what had, he felt sure, been intended to deter him from delaying his journey.
Andrew realized he found her wariness toward him as unacceptable as his own total physical awareness whenever he was in Catriona’s company.
The discomfort of having his cock permanently half or completely hard was further exacerbated at the moment by the fact that Catriona had the disheveled appearance of a woman who had just been pleasured to a mindless ecstasy.
Her hair was in disarray, and her gown clung damply at the bodice. The latter allowed Andrew to see the way the material clung to her plump breasts and clearly outlined deep-rose-colored nipples.
Nipples that engorged, even as he watched, until they took on the appearance of ripe raspberries pressing against the thin bodice of her gown.
His gaze quickly returned to her flushed face. Much as she tried to hide it, Catriona’s lids didn’t lower quickly enough over those expressive blue eyes to cover their slight feverishness.
Certainly too late to hide from him that Catriona McGregor was as physically aware of Andrew as he was of her.
She straightened her spine. “I am sure we can all discuss this again over breakfast in the morning,” she dismissed briskly. “It is now time for Malcolm’s bedtime story and then sleep,” she added with an affectionate smile at her nephew. Then her expression hardened as she once again glanced at Andrew. “To answer your earlier question, Your Grace, I intend to tell Malcolm the story of Beauty and the Beast.”
Andrew, who rarely smiled, now found himself chuckling softly at what he felt sure had been an intended and deliberate likeness between him and the Beast.
By those same criteria, he had no argument in acknowledging Catriona as Beauty…
Chapter Five
“I should very much like to fuck you.”
Cat almost choked on the piece of tender venison she had just chewed and been about to swallow.
It took all her determination to make that swallow rather than engage in a fit of choking in front of the man who had just made that shockingly blunt statement.
Could she have misheard him?
As there was absolutely nothing wrong with her hearing, Cat doubted that was the case.
She simply hadn’t been expecting Essex to say something so…so blatantly carnal, when he had been so coldly polite in his conversation since Cat had joined him for dinner in the small family dining room.
They had already eaten their first course of thick broth and were now enjoying some of the local venison, caught and dressed by Dougal McGregor and expertly cooked by Mrs. Murray. As they ate, they had discussed the weather and how far Inverness was from here and how long it would take to reach it. They had discussed nothing at all of a personal nature.
And now this.
Was it any wonder, then, that Cat was struck dumb at the duke having so suddenly made such an openly sexual comment to her?
“I have always preferred to deal with all things honestly, including physical desire,” Essex continued in the same cool tone he had seconds ago announced he wished to fuck her. “Rather than indulging in a ridiculous and time-wasting flirtation that would ultimately arrive at the same conclusion.” His gaze was icy. “Such honesty leaves no room for false expectations.”
Who said things like this?
Andrew Belgrade, apparently.
Although none of the desire he stated he felt to fuck her showed in that unemotional face or as his steely gaze steadily met hers. His firm lips were unsmiling.
Cat cleared her throat before speaking. “Next you will be flattering me even further by telling me this desire you feel for me goes completely against your nature and wishes.”
He nodded. “It does. But as it is also growing stronger rather than dissipating, as I had hoped that it would, I believe it best to deal with the situation openly rather than continue trying to ignore it,” he added self-disgustedly.
“Deal with it by fucking me, you mean?”
He winced at hearing a lady speak so crudely. “With your agreement, yes.”
Cat continued to stare at him. Indeed, there was no way she could do anything else at the moment. “And does this…this honest approach to the subject succeed in seducing many ladies into your bed?”
His eyes darkened. “I have not, for many years, wished to seduce any other ladies into my bed. The desire I feel for you dictates I have no choice in the matter. Which is why I have stated my desires openly.”
Cat ignored his comment about not wishing to seduce any other ladies into his bed, although she believed she would like to come back to the subject again later.
Possibly once she was alone in her bedchamber.
Or perhaps the duke did not mean the comment as literally as she had heard it? Perhaps his title and handsome looks meant he had no need to seduce ladies into his bed.
For now, Cat gazed at him incredulously. “What on earth gives you the impression that honesty will succeed in seducing me?”
His gaze remained on her unblinkingly. “The manner in which your nipples
