Page 119 of A Scandal for the Beastly Earl

"With excellent taste in stolen goods."

"This isn't funny."

"It's a little funny."

They were laughing when dinner arrived, brought by a beaming Cookie who'd apparently decided that feeding a pregnant countess was her life's new mission.

"Broth," she announced. "And bread, but good bread, not too heavy. And ginger tea for the sickness. And..."

"Cookie," Lucien interrupted gently. "Thank you."

"I'll make whatever you need, my lady. Day or night. The baby must eat!"

"The baby is the size of a pea," Arabella pointed out.

"A pea that needs nourishment!"

After Cookie left, they ate quietly, Arabella managing more than she had in days.

"Feeling better?"

"Much. The evening seems easier than mornings."

"Good to know."

He set aside their dinner trays and pulled her against him, his mouth finding hers with three days of pent-up need. She melted into him, her hands tangling in his hair, and for several minutes, there was nothing but the taste and feel of each other.

"Missed this," he murmured against her throat.

"It's been three days."

"Three very long days."

"You're insatiable."

"Where you're concerned, yes."

"The physician said..."

"The physician said you're healthy and the baby is fine."

"But..."

"Arabella, I will be incredibly gentle and stop the moment you're uncomfortable. But I need to touch you. I need to feel you. I need to know you're really here and really mine and really carrying our child."

"I'm all of those things."

"Then let me appreciate them."

What followed was indeed incredibly gentle, achingly tender, and left them both breathless and satiated. They lay tangled together afterward, Lucien's hand resting on her stomach.

"Do you think it's a boy or girl?"

"I don't care," he said honestly. "As long as you're both healthy."

"You need an heir."

"I need you. Everything else is secondary."