Page 99 of To Hunt the Hunter

He snorted and shook his head. “I can have a kiss whenever I like. My wife is very obliging, you know.”

“She is?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Oh, yes,” he murmured, stalking closer. “Very. She’ll give me anything I want.”

He leaned one gloved hand on the tree beside her head, the one holding the snowball raised on her other side.

“Why would she do that?” Matilda asked, her lips twitching.

“Because she wants it too.” He spoke the words so close she shivered, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the sensitive skin beneath her ear. “She’s insatiable.”

“So are you,” Matilda retorted, and then she looked up at him, a little anxious at the truth of her words.

“What?” he said at once, instantly aware of the change in her mood. He dropped the snowball, taking her into his arms. “What’s wrong?”

Matilda shook her head and laughed. “N-Nothing is wrong.”

“Then why do you look so worried?” he asked, his eyes full of concern, searching hers. “Is it the baby?”

Matilda stared at him, her mouth falling open.

“You know!” she exclaimed in astonishment. “I hardly dared believe it myself, and… Oh, drat you, Lucian. I wanted to surprise you.”

He laughed and pulled her closer against him, cradling her head against his chest. “I can count, love. We spend every night together, and it’s been sometime since you told me you were indisposed.”

Matilda blushed, as aware as he was that she would never tell him she was indisposed if it were possible. “Well. You might have pretended. I was so looking forward to telling you.”

“Were you?” he asked, his beautiful eyes troubled. “Then why did you look so worried?”

Matilda pouted and then gave a huff of frustration. “Because I shall be indisposed for some time, and fat too, and you won’t want me anymore.”

She was well aware of the whiny note to her words and looked up, a little affronted all the same to find Lucian struggling to keep a straight face.

“Don’t you dare laugh at me,” she scolded him.

He shook his head, making a heroic effort to rearrange his face.

“I’m not,” he managed, though his voice quavered a little. “But really, love. How could you be so addle-pated? Not want you, indeed. Are you mad?”

She looked up at him, the knot of worry that had kept her awake the past few nights falling away.

“Are you sure?”

He smiled and moved to her side, so he could lay his hand over her belly, to the place where his child had taken root.

“I’ve never been surer of anything in my life. I love you, both of you, so much. So, you may get as fat as you like, and I shall still find new ways to make you cry my name to the rafters and frighten the ghosts, no matter how ungainly you become.”

Matilda snorted and buried her face in his coat. “I’m not that loud.”

“You are,” he murmured, nipping at her ear. “And I love it.”

“Papa!”

They turned to see Phoebe running towards them, her face pink with the cold, her golden ringlets all a tumble.

“It’s time for cake,” she said, staring at them in frustration. “Oh, do come along. Everyone is waiting for you.”

Lucian looked back at her. “Can we tell her?” he asked softly.