Page 59

They moved together, the carriage rocking in time with their rhythm. Her fingers twisted in his cravat as she rode him harder, the velvet brushing against her thighs, her back arching as he took one breast in his mouth again.

When she came, it was with a soft cry muffled against his throat — and he followed with a sharp curse and a shudder that shook them both.

For a long moment, they simply held each other. Breathing. Smiling. Entwined in love and heat and shared pleasure.

“I love you,” Anna whispered as leaned back to look into his eyes, her heart so full it might burst.

“And I love you,” he solemnly replied. “And I love the child we created together already.”

His hand stroked her hip, his eyes wondering at her still flat stomach.

“As much as I love you,” he continued, as he lifted her from his lap, tucking the cape back around her solicitously. “I think you are fit for bedlam.”

She gave a squeal of protest at his words, which he silenced with a wave of his hand.

“I married a woman who seduced me in a public carriage while pregnant,” he said dryly. “It’s safe to say I’ve joined you in your madness.”

She smiled, rested her head on his shoulder, and closed her eyes as he pulled her against him.

This wild, beautiful madness they shared was love, she was sure of it.

And love, she thought, was the one wager she’d gladly lose again and again.