Mistletoe Wishes: A Regency Christmas Collection

Soon her fingers curled around the heavy, virile weight. He groaned and tilted his hips forward. Anticipation fizzed like champagne in her blood.

Philippa moaned encouragement as he hitched her up against the door. The oak was hard against her back, then she was only aware of miraculous, hot fullness as Blair pushed inside her. Her body quickly adjusted to the unfamiliar angle, and pleasure forked through her like lightning. Through a year of nights and days, the glory of their joining had never faded.

Pressing his face into her hair, he began to move with relentless purpose, building the conflagration until she cried out and shook in his arms. For a long, shining time, she rode the waves of her delight. A liquid rush filled her womb before she tumbled back to her feet, legs near to collapse.

As she and Blair slid in a heap to the floor, he kissed her with more of that thrilling desperation. He mightn’t love her, but he wanted her to the point of madness.

With a satisfied sigh, he leaned against the door, and she sprawled across him, too exhausted after her shuddering release to move. During the wild encounter, her hair had collapsed around her face, and she brushed it back as she fought to regain her breath.

Every time they made love, he turned her world to fire. His mere presence lit every day to flame.

He shifted to fasten his trousers, although she could have told him not to bother on her account. She loved every inch of his superb body. To her chagrin, she loved every inch of his soul, too. But that was her burden, and one she intended to bear in silence.

What point risking their happiness with demands for what he couldn’t give?

Eventually the heart beneath her cheek calmed from its frantic race, and his breathing steadied. “That was…better than I imagined. And I’d imagined something unforgettable.”

She stirred, but his grip tightened, keeping her close. When she raised her head, she expected to see triumph in his face. After all, she’d succumbed to his seduction without a hint of hesitation.

He didn’t look like a conquering hero. Instead he looked strangely vulnerable.

Because of that expression, she could no longer keep silent about the truth she’d discovered a month ago. “Blair, I’m going to have a baby.”

She wasn’t sure how he’d react, although she assumed he’d be pleased. But he straightened and stared at her, green eyes unreadable and long, expressive mouth unsmiling.

The pause extended. And extended.

Until Philippa shifted uncomfortably and moved away. She immediately felt the absence of his touch.

“Say something,” she said, her voice fracturing. She wanted to return to their usual joking flirtation, but the words emerged as raw demand.

Still he stared at her.

Dear heaven, what was wrong? She frowned. “After what we’ve done all year, you can’t pretend you’re surprised,” she said sharply. “It’s not like I managed this by myself.”

He swallowed, and his hands opened and closed on his thighs. “You don’t sound pleased.”

There was no trace of his familiar humor. Something moved in his eyes, something she didn’t understand.

Her belly clenched with apprehension, although what could she do? She wanted this child with a fervor that astonished her.

“Of course I’m pleased,” she snapped.

He tilted one black brow, his fierce expression lightening a fraction. “Really?”

“Yes.” She glared at him, challenging him to object. “Are you?”

A shuddering breath expanded his chest. Somewhere in their passion, she’d tugged off his neck cloth, and his shirt lay open, revealing dark hair over the hard, powerful muscles of his torso.

“I love you,” he said flatly. “I want you to be happy. If this baby makes you happy, then I’m overjoyed.”

“Of course this baby makes me—” She faltered into an astounded silence. Surely there was some mistake. He couldn’t have said what she thought he had. Particularly in such an unlover-like tone. Pregnancy must play with her mind. “What…what did you say?”

“I said I’m overjoyed. When is the child due?” he asked, sounding much more like himself. He hadn’t sounded like himself when she’d heard him say that he loved her.

Still distracted, but unable to gather the courage to pursue the issue, she answered. “June or July, I think.”

“And how are you feeling? Will you be able to travel tomorrow? We can stay here until the baby arrives, if you think it best.”