"I think so, especially since her pregnancy seemed to chase away her illness—at least according to her test results, which showed improvement for certain stats—meaning she should live longer."
He squeezed her fingers. "But? There's something else bothering you, aye?"
She nodded. "She won't tell me about the father. I have no idea if he’s right here on the clan, or from somewhere else and she doesn't want him to find her again. Or if she's just nervous about telling the male he's going to be a father."
"Give her time, Cat. Sometimes secrets are difficult to share, even when it's your own family."
She sighed and laid her head back on his chest. "You're too reasonable sometimes."
He chuckled, the sound echoing beneath her ear. "I think your family could use some caution and reason. I would never want to change them, but you have to admit your grandfather could use some taming."
She snorted. "If he hasn't been tamed by now, he never will be."
They remained quiet for a few minutes, the silence comfortable as Lachlan continued to touch her skin, stroke her hair, and in general, soothe her with his hands.
Her dragon grumbled, When will it be my turn to get some stroking?
Today, I promise.
Cat slowly sat up. The morning light was even better now, and she decided to just ask him. "Will you let me sketch you? Right now, before we do anything else?"
"Aye, if that's what you want. Go ahead, lass."
It was the second time he'd called her lass. With most people—apart from her grandfather—it annoyed her. But with Lachlan…it felt almost like a special endearment, just for her.
Probably because it revealed how relaxed he was. No more Mr. Formal Speech with her, it seemed.
She released his hand, jumped from the bed and went to a drawer in her dresser, took out a sketchpad and a pencil, and headed back to the bed.
She bent over to pick up the large shirt she usually slept in—although it seemed pointless to keep doing it anymore with Lachlan around—and her human said, "No, don't put it on. If you want me naked, you remain that way too."
"Don't be silly. It's chilly."
She tossed the shirt over her head. And as soon as her head popped out of the opening, Lachlan covered himself with the blanket up to his chin.
Her dragon laughed, but Cat ignored her beast and narrowed her eyes. "I'm being practical and you're being absurd."
He grinned, and Cat did her best to ignore how her heart skipped a beat. The bloody male was too handsome for his own good.
Lachlan said, "I guess the tables turn every once in a while, aye?" He snuggled deeper into the blanket. "I rather like being the illogical one for a change."
She almost asked who was this male.
But the question was stupid, of course. Lachlan was becoming more and more the male he should've been, if his family had been different.
If he'd been loved.
She had a feeling he would only be this way with her, at least for a while. And there was no way she was going to scold him at his first signs of trust in her.
However, since she wasn't going to freeze to death as she sketched—irrationally ignoring how it was nearly August and not exactly that cold—she decided to do what worked best with any difficult person she knew on Lochguard.
Which was to bargain. "Let me sketch you naked, with me still dressed, and after breakfast, I'll show you my dragon."
"Weren't you going to do that anyway?" She sighed, but he continued before she could say anything. "Connor mentioned something about a painting or two you've done of me. Show me one of those, lass, and I'll gladly lay here and let you sketch to your heart's content, even if my balls retreat into my belly from the cold."
She growled, "The list of reasons to kill Connor is getting longer by the day."
Her dragon spoke up. Just show him. He's revealed so much about himself to us. We should do the same.
Her beast was right, of course. But one painting in particular is a wee bit embarrassing. I'm not sure I can show that one.
It doesn't matter. If he can tell us about the lowest point of his life, we should be able to share a painting or two.
When her beast put it that way, Cat felt about two inches tall.
She nodded at Lachlan. "Aye, I'll show you. As long as you promise not to laugh."
"I'll try my best, but until I see it, I can't promise that."
She shook her head. "Well, at least you're honest."
"With you, Cat, always."
The certainty of his words took her breath away.
It would be so easy to fall in love with Lachlan MacKintosh.
However, she didn't want him to guess her thoughts. At least, not yet. He was a male that clearly needed time to accept anything happy or positive, given his past. And she didn’t want to spook him.
So she nodded toward the blanket. "If you'd disrobe, fine sir, I can get started."
He snorted as he tossed back the blanket. "If you think formal words will make this more clinical, you're in for a surprise."
Once the blankets settled, she took in his body. The morning light bathed over every inch of him, including the heavy, swollen length of his cock resting against his belly. As much as she wanted to lightly tease him with the tip of her eraser, she focused instead on capturing the erotic image on paper.
Not just his hard cock, but the heated gaze, full of longing. The casual way he had an arm behind his head and one of his knees splayed to the side.
It was almost as if he lay there, merely waiting for her.
Ignoring the impulse to toss the sketchbook aside and climb atop him, she focused on drawing him. It was most definitely one of the harder things she'd done, but the second she had her sketch finished to her satisfaction, she tugged off her shirt, crawled over him, and claimed him as her own.
Lachlan had somehow managed to shower, dress, and eat breakfast without pinning Cat against a wall and making love to her yet again.
After the frenzy, he should want a wee break from so much sex.
And yet, with Cat, he would never have enough.
Just remembering her eyes caressing him as she drew him naked made his cock twitch.
But somehow, he contained the lust and instead focused on Cat unlocking the storage door inside her little studio space. Ever since Connor had mentioned the paintings of him, Lachlan had been waiting for the right time to ask Cat to show him.
Maybe someone would say it was no big deal that she'd agreed to do so, but he'd worked with a number of artists over the years. And even if they were confident and proud of their work, sometimes they still had doubts, like anyone. Certain pieces were more personal than others and should only be shared when the artist was ready.
Although he had to admit that knowing Cat had painted him before their fateful kiss and ensuing frenzy made him stand a little bit taller.
She flipped on the lights, revealing various shelves lined with stacked paintings, as well as some hanging on the wall, while others were on the ground propped against walls and furniture. As he surveyed the room, he asked, "Were you saving all of this for the exhibition show?"
"Some, aye. But in recent months, I've painted more than I have in the past and I've been too absorbed to do the finishing touches like varnish, take pictures, and put them up for sale online or take them to the shops that offer to sell them for me."