Two days, she thought, I have two days to decide.
“You’re quiet, Giana.”
She forced a smile. “I am just tired,” she said, looking away from him.
He gently touched her shoulder and kneaded her tight muscles. “Come, love. At least you’re not too fat yet for me to carry you,” he said, lifting her into his arms.
“Alex, your back.”
“Say that in another month or so.”
He eased her to her feet once they were in their bedroom, but kept her in the circle of his arms. “Won’t you tell me what’s wrong?”
She felt herself leaning against him. The truth hovered on her lips, but she slowly shook her head. “It is nothing that concerns you, Alex. Truly.”
To her relief, he shrugged his shoulders. “Very well, love.” He gave her a lustful grin. “Just how tired are you, then?” He turned her slowly in his arms, holding her as close to him as her stomach would allow, and gently nudged back her head, caressing his lips over her mouth. She blocked out Randall Bennett, blocked out everything that was not Alex.
“We must be careful from now on,” he said, nibbling her earlobe. “Elvan managed, despite his blushes, to tell me to go easy from now on.”
“But you don’t hurt me,” she whispered. “Really, you are always so gentle, and I like what you do.”
“Trust me to be imaginative, Giana. In fact, you might try a little creativeness yourself. There is no reason for you to be shy, you know.”
“I do,” she said. “I mean, I have.”
He grinned down at her, hugging her tightly to him. “Excellent. I await my tutor’s instructions.” He turned her around and unfastened the buttons at her back.
They slept in the same position they made love, Alex curved around her back, her head upon his outstretched arm, his other hand lightly draped over her belly.
“I love your little butt pressing against my stomach,” he whispered against her ear, clear delight in his deep voice.
“You’re crazy,” she said, her voice vague from their lovemaking.
Alex felt the baby move against his palm. “Little brute,” he said. “Have you thought of any names for our child?”
“Yes,” she said. She turned, yelping as she did so, for her long hair was caught beneath his arm. He arranged her against him, and kissed her mouth.
“And?”
Her eyes fell under his intent gaze. He saw so much that it frightened her. She didn’t want him to know the power he held over her. But even pressed close against him, she could not still her doubts. She knew he wanted his child, and that to have it, he would have to keep her as well. Everything he had done, since before she could have meant anything to him, was designed to convince her to stay. Even the stationery. A sop to gain her confidence, to make her forget.
“Why are you crying?”
“I am not crying,” she said, and tried to pull away from him.
“Perhaps,” he said with sudden anger, “you’re not thinking of our child’s name, but of the ship you will take back to England. Is that why you wrote to your mother asking her to come?”
“Nicholas, damn you, Alex. Nicholas.”
He was very still. “It was my father’s name.”
“Yes, I know, but it is also your second name. Nicholas Van Cleve Saxton.”
“So you have decided to give me a son?”
“Yes.”
“God knows, whenever you make up your mind to something, there is no changing you, is there?”