“Are you going to hire a wagon?” she asked, hours later, when they left the train in the little town of Halifras. Jamie had his own name for the place, Bliss remembered: Harassed.

Jamie chuckled and resettled his hat. “Right now, I’m more interested in ’irin’ a room, Duchess.”

Bliss blushed, even though she knew he couldn’t possibly be any more interested than she was, and kept her eyes averted all the while Jamie was signing for their room and chatting with the hotel’s proprietor. She felt as shy as a bride.

In the privacy of the little room tucked away in the right rear corner of the second floor, Jamie made a slow, tender ritual of removing Bliss’s clothes, garment by garment, kissing selected places as he bared them.

Bliss trembled in the foreshadow of ecstasy when he finally knelt before her. He’d aroused her so skillfully that release was upon her with the first teasing flicks of his tongue. He kissed her smooth stomach as she clung to his shoulders with her hands, unable to stand alone.

After a few moments, however, he drew back, looked up at her curiously, and laid one tentative hand to the curve of her abdomen. It was new, that gentle rounding, and Bliss smiled as Jamie came awkwardly to his feet, his eyes puzzled.

“Yes,” Bliss said softly, laying her hand over his. “You’ll be a father in June, Jamie. It’ll be a boy and we’ll call him Reeve.”

He looked down at her stomach, as though he expected to be able to see his child through skin and muscle, and the expression of wonder on his face was more precious to Bliss than anything she possessed. “Aye,” he finally replied, and then he swallowed.

Bliss stood on her toes to kiss him, catching the musky scent of herself on his skin. His hand rose, with a clumsy caution that further endeared him to her, to caress her breast as they kissed.

That night, their lovemaking was a celebration.

Bliss stirred the contents of the kettle industriously, Dog at her heels. “Have a taste,” she offered, plopping some of the mixture into a bowl and setting it on the kitchen floor.

Dog whimpered and skulked away, to lie under the table.

“Fine friend you are,” Bliss said, laying one hand to her protruding stomach. “This is perfectly good lamb stew, you know.”

Just then, Jamie came in, grinning. Some of the chill of the winter day followed along. After giving Bliss a lingering kiss, he stood behind her and splayed his fingers over her stomach, something he loved to do. “I’ve got a surprise for you, Duchess. Cutter’s gone to town to fetch ’er—I mean, it.”

Bliss turned awkwardly in his arms, her jealousy flaring. “You said ’her,’ Jamie McKenna!” she accused.

He gave her a kiss, which she found anything but soothing, and shrugged. “So I did, love. ’Er name’s Ella, and she’s a cook.”

Bliss was infuriated. She’d been trying so hard to learn, studying her cookbooks hour after hour and testing new recipes on Dog. “You could have a little patience!” she cried.