Page 70 of Dangerous

Mia realized that Eva was gazing fixedly out the window, her eyes raw with yearning as they followed the man who rode so close at hand, but was always beyond her reach. Watching the mute suffering on her face, Mia resolved to get to the bottom of the marquess’s reserve. The next time she broached the matter with Adam, she would not let the threat of ruining their growing intimacy turn her from her purpose.

* * *

Adam was in his study, staring blankly at the bills and letters that cluttered his desk, once again marveling at his sudden good fortune.

He’d been pleasantly surprised by the Brighton house when they’d arrived two weeks earlier. He’d not stayed in Brighton, or visited the house, since the year before Veronica’s death. After she died Adam had arranged to have the entire house stripped and redecorated; her taste in décor had been as repugnant to him as her taste in entertainment.

The rooms, once draped in dark reds, were now hung in blues and greens with touches of warm brown or gold, the combinations making the rooms feel light and comfortable.

The chambers he shared with Mia were much smaller than those at either the castle or Exley House. It mattered little, as she refused to sleep alone and he no longer wanted to go to bed without her.

He smiled to think of his once impeccable bedchamber, now strewn with all the signs of Mia’s occupation: the omnipresent cushions, rugs, articles of her clothing and footwear discarded on a whim.

To Adam’s surprise, Sayer seemed quite satisfied with the new arrangement. Although Adam had almost suffered a stroke the first time Mia wandered half-naked into his dressing room while Sayer was clothing him.

She had no qualms about interrupting his dressing, offering suggestions or observations and generally upsetting what had been a quiet, predictable routine of long standing.

He’d been stunned when he’d caught a glimpse of his normally staid valet’s face in the mirror during one such session. For the first time in Adam’s memory Sayer’s face wore a smile at some outrageous suggestion his wife had tossed over her shoulder before Adam sent her back to her room to finish dressing. He’d heard her laughter as the door closed, a single slipper left behind in the middle of his room as proof of her presence.

Adam never would have believed it, but he loved the myriad invasions. He supposed it was the natural result of the life she had led. It appeared her existence had been a communal one in which she spent most of her time in the sultan’s palace naked with a hundred women and children. As a result, her need for privacy was almost nonexistent.

The only area in which Adam drew the line was with his intimate business, firmly requesting her to leave one small screened portion of his rooms off limits. She’d smiled at his request, as if it were eccentric.

She regarded her own intimate habits as anything but, shocking him to near stupefaction with her casual approach to her body as well as his.

It was because of their unusual level of intimacy that he noticed Mia’s sudden illness. While she might look dainty and frail, Adam had learned she had an iron constitution.

She ate more than any other woman of his acquaintance and never seemed to lack for energy. The only area in which she showed any laziness at all was in her unwillingness to leave the bed if he was still in it. As long as he was beside her, she was contented to lounge and sleep. He had learned to rise while she was still sleeping, take care of any pressing or necessary matters, and then slip back into bed without her ever knowing he’d left.

Adam had woken early several mornings before, intending to complete some letters about work on the London property. He’d immediately noticed she was not in bed.

He went to their shared sitting room and then her room. He didn’t see her at first and was turning to leave when he heard a retching noise. He found her on the far side of the bed, naked, of course, sitting cross-legged on the floor with a basin in her lap.

He dropped into a crouch beside her. “Darling, are you ill?”

She’d laughed weakly and then retched again.

Adam located the water pitcher and a cloth and knelt beside her on the floor, pushing back the spirals of red hair that had come loose from the casual knot she favored. Using a damp cloth he wiped the sweat from her brow and neck. She collapsed back against the bed with a heavy sigh.

“Why don’t you let me put you in bed? I’ll tuck you in and send for the doctor.” He stroked the side of her wan face as he looked into her eyes, noting the small wrinkles of pain at the corners.

She took his hand and brought it to her lips, kissing the tips of his fingers and meeting his eyes with a tired smile. “I don’t need the doctor, Adam.” She pressed his hand against her face, where the skin was hot to the touch.

“Nonsense, Mia, you must have caught the influenza. He will at least give you something to soothe your stomach and allow you to get some sleep.”

“I don’t have the influenza, Adam. There is no cure for what I have.”

Terror stabbed at his heart and stopped his breathing. “What do you mean?” His voice was cold, almost hostile.

“Sleeping powders won’t help me. I’ll just have to wait nine months.”

He was stunned, his mind counting the weeks since they’d married.

“Darling,” he finally said, unable to come up with anything more intelligent. His eyes dropped to her bare stomach, its gentle swell unchanged. His fingers went to the belly ring he found so arousing and he stroked her, meeting her eyes.

“Don’t worry, Adam.” A wicked smile flickered across her lips. “This doesn’t mean we need to stop trying.”

He had laughed immoderately, his brain flooding with relief at her reaction, so very different from Veronica’s when she’d learned she was breeding.