A shadow fell across his face; Catriona realized that, with his arm about her waist, he'd steered her back into the front hall.
"You bought me a bull as a wedding present?" She wasn't at all sure she believed that-the herd he'd driven in was worth a small fortune, was probably worth even more than she estimated. The vale could not have afforded that sort of addition to its ailing herd. A fact her husband knew.
"Not just the bull-I bought the whole herd." He looked at her innocently. "Don't you like Henry?"
Catriona smothered a snort. "I daresay he's a very good bull."
"Oh, an excellent bull-I have guarantees and glowing references as to his performance."
His lips were very definitely not straight. The front hall was empty-from outside, a cheer went up as the new herd started their last amble to their new home. Richard's lips curved more definitely, more devilishly; his arm about her tightened. "Why don't we adjourn to our room? I can explain the finer points of Henry's reputation, and you can give me your opinion."
"My opinion?" Arching one brow, Catriona met his glowing gaze. Her feet, of their own accord, were carrying her toward the stairs.
"Your opinion-and, perhaps, a token or two of your affection-your appreciation." His smile had turned devilish with salacious anticipation. "Just to reassure me that you really do like Henry."
Catriona looked into his eyes-the sounds of the crowd walking the new herd to the barn were fading in the distance. She could imagine how victorious their progress up the vale had been-she'd seen any number of workers from the farms among the crowd. And the manor folk had given them a rousing welcome-a hero's welcome. The look in Richard's eyes-the same look she'd glimpsed briefly in Devil's and Vane's-suggested they were expecting a similar welcome from their wives.
Her gaze locked on his, as they reached the top of the stairs, she smiled. Finding his hand, she twined her fingers with his, then, her own eyes alight, she slid her gaze from his and turned toward their chamber. "Come, then-and I'll consider your reward."
He deserved it.
Later, after having overseen his bath and shared a dinner fit for a conqueror which, to her amazement, had arrived without explanation on a tray, Catriona rewarded her husband thoroughly, an exercise that left her totally naked, totally drained, slumped, facedown and boneless, amid the rumpled sheets of their bed.
Much later, she mumbled: "Where did you go?"
Sprawled, similarly naked, beside her, Richard glanced at her face. She hadn't yet opened her eyes, not since he'd shut them for her. He settled back on the pillows and enjoyed the sight-of her luscious ivory back and bottom delectably displayed alongside him. "Hexham."
"Hexham?" A frown tangled Catriona's brows. "That's in England."
"I know."
"You mean those are English cattle?"
"The very best of English cattle. There's a breeder who lives outside Hexham-we went to visit him."
"Visit?"
Richard chuckled. "I have to admit it felt rather like olden times-raiders from the Lowlands sweeping south to steal cattle. Except, of course, that I paid for them." He considered, then his brows quirked. "Mind you, I'm not sure Mr. Scroggs won't decide we've stolen them anyway-we got them at a very good price."
Catriona lifted her heavy head, and her heavy lids, and stared at him. "Why was that?"
Richard grinned. "Devil's inimitable ways. His presence here was too good an opportunity to pass up-he's a master at negotiating. He doesn't precisely lean on people-not physically-but they do tend to give ground. Rather unexpectedly, to them."
Catriona humphed and lowered her head back onto the tangled covers. "We weren't expecting you for another day-you said four in your note."
"Ah, yes." Noting the increasing strength in her voice, Richard's interest in their adventure waned. "We expected to get back today-one day to ride to Hexham, two days to drive the cattle back, but"-he slid down the bed, then swung up and straddled her knees-"we thought if we said four days rather than three, you'd worry less." Sliding his palms along her thighs, he gripped her hips and gently flipped her onto her back. "Or," he said, sitting back on his ankles, his hot gaze roving her delectable nakedness, "at least, not yet have whipped yourselves into a righteous frenzy when we got back on the third day."
So sated she could not tense a single muscle, Catriona lay on her back and stared up at him. "You purposely told us four days, so we wouldn't be prepared to… to deal with you as you deserved-"
A swift grin cut off her words; he swooped down and kissed her. "We wanted to surprise you."
For more reasons than one, Catriona knew, but as he kissed her lingeringly again, and eased his long body down over hers, she couldn't summon enough temper to care. He lay on her as they kissed, then eased to one side, lying half over her, half beside her, one dark, hair-dusted thigh wedged between hers.
Propped on one elbow, he turned his head and splayed his hand over her belly. Gently, he stroked, gauged. "Have you told them yet?"
Her gaze on his face, Catriona shook her head. "I… wanted to wait a little-we haven't had time-"
"I haven't said anything, either." His hand resting heavy over where their child grew, secure within her womb, he turned his head and met her gaze. "I want to think about it-see how things settle-how it feels, if it… fits."
He looked back at his hand; Catriona studied his face, dark planes gilded by the firelight. Then she raised a hand and gently smoothed back the lock of hair that always fell over his forehead. He looked back at her, she smiled into his eyes. "It fits." Her heart swelling, she held his gaze. "You, me, our child, the manor, the vale-we all fit."
For one long instant, she was lost in the blue-the blue of summer skies over Merrick's high head. Then she smiled, mistily, and traced his cheek. "This is how it's meant to be."
Her gaze had dropped to his lips; half-lifting her head, she rose-he bent his head and their lips met, in a kiss so achingly tender, so honest, so vulnerable, there were tears in her eyes when it ended.
He looked down at her for a moment, then his lips kicked up at the ends. "Come show me." Drawing back, he sat on his haunches and pulled her up to her knees.
"Show you what?" Turning her head, she looked over her shoulder as he swung her about so her back was to him.
His eyes burned, his grin grew wicked as he drew her back, sliding her knees outside of his, drawing her bottom against his ridged abdomen. "Show me how things fit."
He needed little instruction on that point; hot and hard, he pressed into her. Her body flowered and opened for him, she gave a soft sigh as he slid fully home.
He settled her, her thighs over his, her bottom wedged against his hips. Impaled upon him, with his chest against her back and his steely arms around her, she was open and vulnerable; her breasts, her belly, the springy curls at its base, the soft inner surfaces of her thighs, already taut, were his to stroke and fondle, to caress as he willed.
And he willed.
Held almost upright, she couldn't rise much upon him, instead, buried deep within her, he rocked. Slowly, languorously.
Catriona bit her lip against a groan as his fingers tightened about her budded nipples and she felt him surge slowly within her.