“God yes, it does.” He drew her closer again and bowed his head to nuzzle her temple. “I only left you to protect you, because I love you enough to let you go.”
Her arms were around his waist, a tight, wonderful band he wished he could wear always, for all the world to see.
“And I love you enough to keep you, and to tell you that you’re going to be a father.”
Everything within him froze. “What did you say?”
He must have misheard. Had she said what he thought she had said? Because, sweet Lord, the thought of Eleanora growing round with his child, of soon having a little girl with her wild golden curls to love or a young lad with her dimpled chin, brought tears to his eyes. He blinked furiously, not wanting them to fall, but it was useless. They slipped down his cheeks, heedless of his masculine pride.
She tipped her head back, smiling shyly up at him. “You’re going to be a father, Nando.”
Joy seized him. For a moment, he could not speak, so intense was his reaction.
“You’re with child?” he managed.
She nodded, biting her lip. “Are you weeping?”
“Not at all,” he lied. “There was something in my eye.”
Her countenance turned somber. “I know it is unexpected. I didn’t intend to tell you so bluntly, and I’ve only just made the realization. If the news displeases you?—”
“Not another word,” he interrupted tenderly. He withdrew from her enough so that he could press a hand over her belly, wondering at the life that was growing within her, even if there was no discernible change to her form just yet. “I couldn’t be happier, my love. Words can’t begin to describe my elation.”
Eleanora placed a hand over his, lacing their fingers together. “Promise me that the next time some wrongheaded notion to dowhat you think is best for me enters your mind, you’ll consult me first.”
Nando didn’t hesitate. “I promise. You’re thoroughly stuck with me now, minx.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Smiling wickedly, she rose on her toes and pressed her mouth to his.
EPILOGUE
KINGDOM OF VARROS, TWO MONTHS LATER
The wonderfully wicked, deliciously sinful, utterly decadent truth was that Princess Eleanora of the House of Tayrnes was presently standing naked in her bedroom whilst her beautiful husband was still disappointingly clothed.
When he had whispered for her to strip off her garments and wait for him nude following the royal banquet that had been held earlier in their honor, she had expected him to come to her equally devoid of clothing. He smiled slowly as he caught sight of her standing across the room, wearing nary a stitch.
He was still wearing his elegant evening finery, his snowy cravat perfectly tied, and he quite took her breath at the magnificent sight he made.
“You’re naked just as I told you to be.” He sauntered forward, tugging at his coat and shrugging it from his shoulders as he went.
“I thought you would be naked also, my love,” she pouted playfully.
He dropped the coat to the floor, prowling nearer with a leonine grace that made anticipation thrum through her veins. “Presently. There’s something I must do first.”
She licked her lips, trying not to be too mindful of the changes her condition had caused. Her breasts were larger than before, her belly rounded and protruding now. Fortunately, her altering form only seemed to have made her adoring husband want her more.
“Oh?” She raised a brow, playing the coquette. “And what is it that you must do?”
He reached her then, his hands settling warmly on her waist in a possessive hold she loved. “Turn, and I’ll show you.”
The notion of baring her bottom to him was both rousing and embarrassing. She remained as she was, breathless, heart pounding, sex throbbing.
“Nando,” she protested.
The look he gave her was scorching. “Turn around, love, and place your hands on the wall.”
She swallowed hard. “Why should you wish for me to?—”
