Page 112 of The Study of Seduction

“First of all,” he said, “the ‘she’ will be a ‘he.’ I feel it in my bones.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, and you are nothing if not famous for your ability at predicting the sex of a child.”

Ignoring her, he settled back in the chair. “Secondly, I’m not making these for the baby, but for me.” He held up the two carved pieces of cork, then stuffed them in his ears. “Lately, you’ve been snoring.”

She cocked up one eyebrow and said something he couldn’t hear.

Excellent, they were working. He cupped his hand behind his ear. “What’s that?”

Marching over, she plucked the corks out of his ears and stuffed them into hers. “Thank you for these. Now I don’t have to hear you go on and on about what we need to buy for the baby and make for the baby and arrange for the baby. You’re worse than my mother, I swear.”

She had a point. He and Lady Margrave had surprisingly grown more friendly while plotting the future of his child and her grandchild.

He drew Clarissa between his legs. Reaching up to take out the corks, he said, “I’ll make you a pair, too. You can use them when your mother visits.” He spread his hands over her belly, his blood leaping to feel the subtle movements. “He’s really kicking today, isn’t he?”

“Sheis dancing. She has to practice making her father laugh.”

“Her mother already does plenty of that.” He kissed Clarissa’s clothed navel, then scattered more kisses up her stomach to her swollen breasts. “Among other things.” He nuzzled her nipple. “We should make love in this room. I’ve imagined it so many times.”

She looked scandalized. “In yourworkroom? Truly?”

“In every room in the house. Long before you married me, too.”

“I don’t believe you.”

With a sly smile, he rose and took her hand. “Come with me.”

He took her through the house to the conservatory, where he nodded to the dais by the window. “I’ve pictured you lying there naked, bathed in sunlight, while I take you.”

Reveling in her blush, he led her through the halls into the music room. “The possibility of sitting on that pianoforte bench while you rode me has seen me through many a dull recital.”

She gaped at him. “Not Yvette’s, I hope.”

“Good God, no. But yours, for certain.”

“Are you saying that my playing bores you?”

“I’m saying that it always provided a fitting backdrop for my fantasy.”

Raking her with a long, slow glance for emphasis, he laughed when she said, “Oh, Lord, now I’ll never be able to look you in the eye when I’m playing for guests.”

“Shall I go on?” he asked.

A look of challenge crossed her face. “I’ll bet there’s one room you haven’t imagined making love to me in. The kitchen.”

“Are you mad? OfcourseI’ve pictured you there, splayed on the table to provide me with a delicious feast.” When she looked surprised, he said, “Mind you, we could never serve food from there again if I acted on it, but God knows I’ve imagined it.”

She looped her arms about his neck. “When I married you, Lord Blakeborough, I had no idea you were such a naughty man.”

“Obviously, or you wouldn’t have assumed I could wait a bloodyyearto bed you.”

Remorse tinged her cheeks pink. “What if it really had been a year? Would you have complied with my terms?”

“Of course. But you wouldn’t have lasted that long. You’re too much of a naughtywomanfor that. And I was too bent on seducing you.”

She got that melting look in her eyes that never failed to enrapture him, and he was on the verge of dragging her into his arms and ravishing her, when a voice came from the door. “I hope we’re not interrupting.”

Edwin cursed inwardly . . . and then realized that the voice was vaguely familiar. No—it couldn’t be.