Gerard was very fond of daisies.

His large hand reached out and cupped the slight weight of her breast. “You are still maturing, Em,” he said, noting the new fullness.

She covered his hand with her own. “Gerard,” she said in her lilting voice.

He caught her gaze, and his heart swelled at the love he saw there. “Yes, my love?”

“I am enceinte.”

Gerard gaped. He had been careful, and made use of French letters. “Em, dear God!”

Her blue eyes, those lovely eyes the color of cornflowers, filled with tears. “Tell me you are happy. Please.”

“I…” He swallowed hard. “Of course, sweet.” He had to ask the obvious question. “What of Sinclair?”

Emily smiled sadly. “I do not believe there will be a doubt in anyone’s mind that the child is yours, but he will not refute it. He gave me his word. In a way, ’tis fitting. He released his last mistress due to pregnancy.”

His stomach clenched tight with shock, Gerard laid her down upon the mattress. She looked so tiny, so angelic against the blood red color of his velvet counterpane. He discarded his robe and climbed over her. “Come away with me.”

Gerard lowered his head, and sealed his lips over hers, moaning at the sweet taste of her. If only things were different. If only she had waited.

“Come away with me, Emily,” he begged again. “We can be happy together.”

Tears slid down her temples. “Gray, my love.” She cupped his face in her tiny hands. “You are such a passionate dreamer.”

He nuzzled the fragrant valley between her breasts, his hips grinding his erection into the mattress in an attempt to temper his desire. With an iron will, he controlled his baser demands. “You cannot deny me.”

“Too true,” she gasped, caressing his back. “If I had been stronger, how different our lives would have been. But Sinclair…the dear man. I have shamed him enough.”

Gerard pressed loving kisses into her tight belly, and thought of his child who had taken root there. His heart raced in near panic. “What will you do then, if you will not have me?”