Page 89 of What a Lord Wants

When he felt her release begin to grip her, he sat up and grabbed her into his arms, to hold her tightly against him as she broke with a cry. He followed immediately after, pouring himself into her with a long, shuddering groan.

With his heart pounding and his breath coming in gasping gulps, he dug his fingers into her hair and brought his mouth to her ear.

“You and this baby are everything to me,” he whispered, unable to speak any louder because of the swell of emotions tightening his throat. “You are my inspiration, my purpose, my future…” His eyes stung with tears as he placed a kiss to her temple. “Ti amo, mia bella…ti amo.”

At that moment, he knew that nothing would be the same again. All the way down to his soul. And he welcomed it.

Chapter 26

Preview Night

The British Institution’s Winter Exhibition

From across the crowded gallery, Dom watched as Eve leaned in closer to examine the painting. Her eyes were rapt on the work, her lips parted slightly, in admiration for Turner’s technique.

Sweet Lucifer,she was beautiful. She wore a gauzy, candy-pink dress with a beaded bodice, flowing skirts, and fragile lace straps that slipped down her upper arms to reveal creamy bare shoulders. Her hair was piled high on her head, accentuating the elegant curve of her neck and the pale perfection of her skin. For ornamentation, she wore only a pair of teardrop pearl earbobs, as if she knew she didn’t need the false sparkle of jewels when she shined so brightly on her own.

Thank God, she’d come tonight. He’d been on edge all day, fearing that she’d beg off. They’d reconciled last night, in ways that left both of them shaken to their cores, but tonight was still about his art. He’d been a selfish bastard, wounding her more deeply than he would ever know, and he wouldn’t have blamed her if she’d refused to come tonight because of it. He hadn’t even been able to escort her from Mercer House because he’d been required to arrive early for tonight’s event. Because the exhibition was his idea, he’d arranged nearly every detail of it, leaving only the most mundane duties—the hanging of the paintings, the auction, the refreshments—to other members of the Institution’s board. Which meant he had to be here to make certain all went smoothly and to welcome the guests. Which meant that he’d had to entrust her escort to the Carlisles.

Now he finally had time to seek her out and welcome her as he should, as his marchioness and wife, as a lady patron of the arts. Yet he found that he couldn’t move from his spot, too mesmerized by the sight of her.

She shifted a step sideways and stopped square in front of his painting. The one of Sally that he’d spent last night touching up until it conveyed the feeling he’d been hoping to capture. Oh, it would never be as good as the painting of Eve. That one remained in a category all by itself. But this one was still excellent and good enough to win the competition. The painting that would launch his new career.

But he never would have come to this moment without Eve.

Her gaze swept over the painting. Then she fell still, except for a slight tilt her head as the minute details caught her attention, all those tiny additions and changes he’d made through the night with her as his inspiration. She leaned close to the canvas as she read the signature…Dominick James Mercer.

She stared at his signature for several long moments, then she blinked hard and swiped her hand at her eyes.

His heart soared. Her tears were the best compliment he’d ever received as a painter, and ever would.

When she simultaneously straightened away from the painting and stepped toward the next one, her dress pulled tight across her front. Only for a moment, and then the gauzy material hung loose around her again. But in that instant, the dress silhouetted her lithe figure beneath, and he saw it. The unmistakable bump at her lower belly.

He smiled, his chest swelling. He didn’t think it was possible to love her more than he already did, but somehow, with every passing moment, he did just that.

He made his way slowly across the crowded gallery toward her. She was too caught up in the paintings to see him drawing near, her gaze still straying sideways to his signature, as if she couldn’t quite bring herself to believe it.

He came up behind her and gently took her elbow. Lowering his mouth to her ear over her shoulder, he murmured, “Because of you, my love.”

Because of you.

Eve didn’t dare move, not even to face him. She was still trying to absorb all that he’d revealed to her last night, still stunned by the enormity of knowing that he loved her.

“You’re absolutely beautiful.” He traced his fingertips up her arm in a private caress that shivered through her. “Simply glowing.”

“Because I’m with child,” she said quietly as she face him, so no one would overhear.

“Because I spent all night and most of today repeatedly ravishing you.”

And he had, too. Quite thoroughly. Even now she tingled from it. But she forced out a bored sigh. “Perhaps.”

When he quirked a brow at that world-class understatement, the gleam in her eyes gave her away, and she bit her lip to keep from laughing.

He learned toward her to bring his mouth to her ear, and the wolfish growl he gave her sent a longing ache spinning through her. “The moment this preview is over,” he promised in a heated murmur, “I’m putting you into our carriage, where I plan on making love to you all the way home.”

Her face flushed.

“Where I plan on making love to you again. Passionately and repeatedly, until you shatter in my arms, until you cry out from how much I love you.”