exactly she would do so. Tomorrow she would inform Sarah, and then they could start discussing the colour to do over the walls and the type of fabric she would require to swath the windows and to hang over the crib.
An odd sort of anxiety beat in her breast, and with a great struggle, she shifted and turned onto her back. It felt as if the roasted duck in cream sauce and asparagus she had eaten an hour ago would rush back up and she would cast her account. With a frustrated groan, she turned on her other side. At that moment, the connecting door opened, and her breath audibly caught.
Her husband framed the doorway, dressed in a dark blue silk banyan. Phoebe pushed to her elbows and tried to sit up, hating that it was getting so difficult. Her heart pounded when Hugh padded over to her, and Phoebe couldn’t help gasping when he dipped, placed one of his hands beneath her shoulder and the other under her hips, and effortlessly lifted her into his arms and made his way to his chamber.
Oh God! Her heart raced so fast, she feared fainting.
“Are you…are we to sleep together?” she asked, flushing at the squeak in her voice.
He paused on the threshold to enter his room. It took immense courage for her to lift her head to peer up into his face. He returned her stare, and her throat dried at the tenderness in his eyes. They also hinted an unfathomable message she could not decipher.
Her lips parted on a soundless sigh when he lowered his head. But he did not kiss her lips as she had anticipated, just pressed a kiss to her forehead. Her heart pounded, and though she was in his arms, Phoebe swore her knees trembled.
The warmth of his lips vanished from her skin, and he moved with her, entering his chamber. Inside his room was dark, except for the low-burning fire at the far-left corner. He walked with her over to the large canopied bed in the center of the room. She pressed her face into the crook of his throat and inhaled deeply of his warm, masculine scent. Her heart surged, and a shiver of longing chased wickedly along her spine. He carefully deposited her on the bed and lowered the canopy before going around to the next side of the bed and climbing on.
They lay facing each other, and she could barely discern his features with that small flicker of light from the hearth. Yet she could feel his eyes on her. I’ve never slept beside another, she wanted to say, but her tongue would not obey. Phoebe wasn’t certain how long she lay there unable to sleep. She shifted several times, trying to find comfort, to no avail. It had been like this almost every night for the past week, and she dreaded the idea that it would go on for another two months.
With a soft groan, she turned to her side. There was a dip on the bed behind her, and her entire body came alive as Hugh’s presence drifted nearer. A warm hand rested on her hip, and she felt his curiosity as if it were a tangible entity.
“My lower back aches dreadfully,” she confessed, wincing at the pitiful sob in her tone. “And my feet ache. From my knees down to my ankles. Dr. Edward swears these are all symptoms of pregnancy, but I have been intolerably miserable these past few days!”
A kiss was pressed to her shoulder, a touch meant to soothe, and it did, for the tension leaked from her body. His warmth left her, the bed dipped, and though she strained to hear, he did not leave the room. He came back on the bed, and when she looked about, his shadow was below hers.
She swallowed when he took her foot into his arms. Something cold touched her skin, and she gasped but did not tug her foot from his grasp. A scent rose in the air; it was oddly pleasant, an aroma of lemon and peppermint. He rubbed from the tip of her toes, down the bottom of her feet, around her ankle, and up to her knees. The relief she felt in her leg was beyond wonderful. He attended to both feet for several moments before he stopped.
“Thank you,” she said in a soft, drowsy sigh, turning on her side.
Her eyes flew open when his length pressed closer from behind. But it was the shock