Page 8 of The Viscount and the Minx (The Unlikely Betrothal: Prequel)

1 week later: The day of the house party

Marina

M arina was bent over the chamber pot, muffling her retching to avoid waking Evan. He’d worry—again—and he’d already spent the past week glued to her side. She wiped her mouth with a cloth, a small smile forming. The sickness had worsened since the incident at the dress shop, but this wasn’t fear. She knew that now.

The nightmares hadn’t returned, thanks to Evan. He’d kept her so relaxed, so loved, that fear hadn’t dared creep back in. He’d doubled the footmen for added security, yet insisted life must carry on—and he’d been right. They couldn’t live in constant dread.

But this… the nausea. It wasn’t lingering anxiety.

When Juliana’s letter arrived days ago informing Marina that the doctor confirmed her suspicions, the realization struck Marina like a thunderbolt. Of course. The exhaustion, the aversion to meat, the tenderness in her breasts—it was all familiar. And she couldn’t believe she had missed it.

She wasn’t sick with fear. It was so much more wonderful than that.

She was carrying their second child.

Marina rose to rinse her mouth and pressed her palm to her bare stomach, warmth spreading through her as a smile tugged at her lips. Another precious babe.

Strong arms circled her from behind, a familiar heat from bare skin pressing against her back.

“Might we celebrate together?” Evan’s rich baritone rumbled low in her ear.

She leaned into him, grinning. “I don’t know what you mean,” she teased, though she doubted he’d missed the signs. He’d barely let her out of his sight for days.

His lips traced a path from her ear down her neck, the warmth of his mouth sending a delicious shiver through her. She was so in love with him, it bordered on obsession. But she supposed they were well matched in that regard.

“You haven’t touched a bite of meat in days,” he murmured, spinning her to face him. “I told you—you’d be surprised how much we men actually notice.”

She looked up at him, her heart swelling. Of course he’d noticed. Her husband knew her better than anyone.

“We’ll have the doctor confirm,” she said softly, already confident she knew the truth. “After the house party.”

He arched his brow. “This better be a damn memorable party, considering its timing. The whole thing is less than ideal.”

“You doubt my abilities?” she challenged, lifting her chin.

His arms cinched around her waist, their bare bodies pressed flush. “I’d never doubt you in anything,” he rasped, his hard length pressing insistently between them. “But if you think I won’t keep fussing over you in front of a house full of people, you’re mistaken.”

She smirked, imagining the way they’d scandalize their guests—if they weren’t too busy creating scandals of their own. And she would be lying if she said she didn’t hope for that very thing. It would certainly make for a more interesting party.

“Right now,” she whispered, her voice turning sultry, “all I want is you before our house fills with guests.”

Evan swept her into his arms, grinning down at her. “You know I shan’t deny you whatever you wish.”

Marina wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him deeply as he carried her back to their bed. Desire curled low in her belly, her body already aching for his touch.

The moment he set her down, she shifted to her hands and knees, glancing over her shoulder with a wicked smile.

“You little minx,” he growled, massaging her backside. “Chest down.”

She obeyed, lowering herself until her cheek pressed against the mattress. The air cooled her heated skin as his powerful hands spread her open.

Then his mouth found her.

His tongue traced her seam, slow and deliberate, sending fire through her veins. Her eyes fluttered closed, a moan slipping from her lips as he sucked her pearl with just the right amount of pressure.

“That feels so good.” She gasped, rocking her hips back against his face. Pleasure coiled tightly inside her, and he didn’t relent. When her release came, it shattered her—sharp, hot, and all-consuming. Overtaking her in intense waves for several seconds until it faded.

Evan ran his tongue along her seam again, tasting her as she trembled beneath him. “You taste incredible,” he growled, sliding his tongue lower to tease her opening. “So wet and ready for me.”

His hands gripped her hips, strong and certain. The head of his cock pressed at her entrance, his voice dark and rough. “Tell me what you want, love.”

“You,” she breathed. “All of you. Please.”

He chuckled, low and dark. “It’s not often my beautiful wife says please.”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” she muttered breathlessly. Although she was feeling quite needy and edging ever closer toward being willing to beg.

Evan chuckled behind her. “That’s my girl.”

Evan entered her with agonizing slowness, torturing them both.

Marina’s breath hitched as he filled her, stretching her with exquisite torment. Her fingers twisted in the bedsheets, her body straining for more. Impatient, she pushed back against him. She needed more.

“I love it when you’re desperate for me,” Evan rasped, pulling out almost completely before sliding back in with maddening control.

“Evan,” she moaned, her mind too clouded with pleasure to form complete sentences.

His fingers dug into her hips, thumbs pressing into the dimples at her lower back. When he thrust again—deeper, harder—she almost forgot her own name. Her moans turned breathless, ragged, her body writhing beneath him as he set a punishing rhythm.

“That’s it,” he growled. “Let me hear you.”

“Don’t stop.” She gasped, the pressure and intensity of her pleasure building so fiercely it robbed her of breath.

His grip tightened, fingers biting into her skin. One hand slid beneath her, his fingers finding her pearl and rubbing in tight, perfect circles.

“Oh God…” Her back arched violently. “Right there… Please…”

Unable to stop herself, she shattered, tightening around his length. Pleasure crashed through her in waves that left her quivering beneath him. Every inch of her body pulsed with bliss, her limbs trembling as if she’d never recover. And she wasn’t certain she ever wanted to come down.

“Always such a good girl for me,” Evan groaned, leaning forward to press his chest against her back. His cock pulsed inside her as he thrust in slow, shallow strokes.

His words made her wild and unhinged. She reached between her legs, covering his hand with her own and guiding his fingers over her swollen pearl. The heightened sensation pushed her over again, a softer climax, but no less sweet. She moaned low and broken, gripping the sheets for balance.

“And you,” she breathed, “are so good for me.”

No matter how many times they’d coupled, it was never enough, and it never would be. They collapsed together, skin slick with sweat, hearts pounding in rhythm. Evan gathered her close, brushing her hair back from her face.

“I can’t wait to see your belly swell with our babe,” he whispered, pressing a tender kiss to her brow.

“Let’s keep it our secret for now,” Marina said, guiding his hand to her stomach. “It’ll be fun to have this just for ourselves.”

“You could cancel the house party altogether,” he teased, “and I’ll subject you to other titillating events for a fortnight instead.”

She laughed, pushing at his chest. “The guests arrive today. We should dress—and spend some time with Arthur before the house is overrun.”

Evan groaned theatrically, making her release a stream of giggles.

“The faster we’re dressed, the sooner we can find an alcove in which we might scandalize the party,” she teased.

“You should have led with that.”

He leapt from the bed with impressive energy, and Marina couldn’t resist watching the play of muscle across his back as he moved. She was quite a lucky woman, indeed.

Hours later…

The house was bustling with activity as carriages arrived and trunks were whisked away to the guestrooms. The staff moved efficiently, ensuring everything was well executed. Marina relaxed on Evan’s arm, satisfied the party was off to a perfect start.

A footman passed carrying a small trunk. Evan’s gaze lingered on the man, his eyes narrowing.

“What is it?” Marina asked.

Evan’s focus shifted back to her, tension flickering across his features. “I thought he looked familiar.”

“He’s one of our footmen,” she said lightly. “Of course he looks familiar.” He was newer to the staff, but she had seen him at least once before.

“Yes… quite right.” His smile returned, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Marina studied him for a moment, but the concern had faded. Whatever had unsettled him seemed forgotten. Still, unease prickled down her spine. All the bad things were behind them, right?

Of course they were, she told herself. The blackguards were all in prison.

Besides, they had the party of the season starting, and that required their full attention. And a date in the alcove with her handsome husband.