Page 90 of Devoted to the Duke (The St. Clairs 1)

“I love you.”

She smiled. “I know. I love you, too.”

“Come on.” He threw back the covers and scooped her up, already wanting to return to their bed. “Time for you to get dressed. If you don’t, we may never make it downstairs to breakfast and I know just how hungry you can get.”

“Hungry for you,” she murmured into his ear, her teeth tugging on his earlobe.

“I love you.”

“I’m counting, you know.”

He grinned. “I’m sure you are.”

Carrying her through his dressing room to hers, he set her down and then played lady’s maid, getting her ready for the day. Every time he put on a new piece of clothing, he told her he loved her. With every stroke as he brushed her hair, Jeremy did the same. He left it to his wife to pin up her hair, knowing he’d only pull them out again so he could run his hands through her waves.

“Can we go see Jenny before breakfasting?” she asked.

“Of course.” A warm feeling spread through him, knowing that Catherine would care for his daughter as if Jenny were her own.

They climbed the stairs to the top floor, where the nursery lay, and Jeremy told her he loved her on each step. When they reached the door, he kissed her once more.

She laughed. “You made me lose count,” she complained good-naturedly.

He sighed. “Then I suppose I’ll have to start all over again.”

“Better make it three hundred this time. You want to stay in my good graces, Your Grace.”

They spent half an hour in the nursery, helping feed Jenny and playing with her. As they stepped back into the corridor, Jeremy pulled Catherine into his arms.

“I love you, Duchess,” he said. “That’s one.”

“Only two hundred and ninety-nine more to go, Duke.”

“Do you think you’ll like being a duchess?” he asked.

“As long as you’re my duke, I don’t see why not. Do you like being a duke?”

“I suppose so.”

“Well, if you ever change your mind, I can most certainly write you a reference.”

“As what?”

Catherine laughed. “A lady’s maid.”

He kissed her. “I love you. Two. I could also write you a recommendation.”

Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “As your mistress?”

“You saucy wench.” Jeremy kissed her hard, desire for her rippling through him. He broke the kiss. “I was thinking of a nursery maid.”

Catherine glanced over his shoulder toward the schoolroom. “I suppose I could also recommend you as a tutor. In the art of love.”

His lips grazed her jaw. “If you don’t watch that smart mouth of yours, I’ll take you to the schoolroom right now and teach you a new lesson in love.”

Her stomach growled and they both laughed.

“Perhaps that lesson can wait,” she suggested.

As he led her downstairs, Jeremy thought of several lessons they could share.

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