Beauty's Beast(34)

Leyla and Lilia made it known to me this morning that they think I am with child. The thought had not occurred to me, but I know now that it is true, that Erik’s child is growing within my womb. I am to be a mother. It is almost beyond comprehension, a miracle. I wonder, will it be a boy or a girl, though I care not, so long as it is strong and healthy and whole. . . .


With a sigh, she put her pen aside, her happiness marred by doubts. What if Erik was horribly misshapen beneath the mask? What if he had been born that way, if the same deformity should be passed on to their child? But surely, if that were true, he would not be seeking an heir.

Keeping her secret was harder than she had expected. A dozen times a day the words rose in her throat. At night, in his arms, after they had made love, the words begged to be said and yet she kept them locked inside. She could not put aside her fear that, once he knew his seed was growing within her, he would no longer have need of her.



They went riding every morning. She knew she would soon have to stop, for safety’s sake. A fall could be dangerous for her child. But not on this beautiful day. It was the first of July and the sky was a clear azure blue. As always, she lost herself in the joy of riding, in the beauty of the landscape. The grass spread before them like a carpet of lush green velvet. Flowers dotted the countryside, as bright as gems scattered by a careless hand.

They paused after an hour or so to rest the horses. It was then, as she watched Erik dismount and walk toward her, that she noticed the stiffness in his movements.

“Are you in pain, my lord?” she asked as he lifted her from Misty’s back.

“It’s nothing.” He set her on her feet. Gathering the horses’ reins, he led them to a small pool and let them drink.

Kristine frowned as she watched him walk away. He was limping. She was sure of it.

Plucking a bright yellow dandelion, she twirled it between her thumb and forefinger, her gaze focused on Erik’s back. The sun glinted in the blackness of his hair. She watched the muscles ripple beneath the fine wool of his shirt, and her fingers ached to touch him.

He turned and caught her watching him. Heat suffused her cheeks, not the heat of shame at being caught staring, but the heat of desire. The attraction between them sizzled like summer lightning.

Hardly aware of what she was doing, she crushed the dandelion in her hand as he tethered the horses to a tree and crossed the distance between them.

“Kristine . . .”

She looked up at him, her green eyes bright. “Yes, my lord?”

Erik’s gaze swept the surrounding countryside. They were alone, quite alone.

Taking her by the hand, he led her to a small copse of trees.

“Here, my lord?” she asked as he drew her down beside him.

“Here, now.” He was running out of time, he thought desperately. The right side of his body ached, the pain reminding him that time was one thing he didn’t have to waste. If he was going to sire an heir, it had to be soon, before even layers of clothing and a mask would not hide what he was becoming.

He undressed her quickly, his heart pounding with need and desire, his gaze drinking in the beauty of her face and form. Her skin was soft and smooth and he wished that, just once, he dared remove his clothing and feel the heat of her body against his. And even as his body became a part of hers, he knew she deserved so much more than the half man, half monster cradled between her thighs.

Release came quickly for both of them.

With a sigh, he drew her into his arms and held her close, one hand lightly moving over her belly, her breasts . . .

Muttering an oath, he sat up, eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he cupped her breast, spread his hand across her belly.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” he asked, his voice sharp.

A dark flush stained her cheeks as her gaze slid away from his. “I’m . . . that is, we . . .”

“Are you breeding?” he asked curtly.

“Aye, my lord.”

“How long have you known?”

“Nearly a month.”

“And you saw no need to tell me?”

“I . . .” She looked up at him, tears welling in her eyes.

“Why did you not tell me, Kristine?”

“I was afraid.”

“Afraid? Of what?”

The flush that stained her neck and cheeks crept up into her hairline.

“Answer me!”

“I was afraid,” she stammered. “Afraid you would no longer come to my bed if you knew.”

He stared at her, speechless. “Why would you think that?”

She grabbed her riding habit and drew it over her, as if it would protect her. “You once told me that you wanted nothing from me but a child.”

Erik nodded, still not understanding.