He hauled her against him and kissed her without reserve. And he continued to kiss her hungrily as he undressed her, his mouth tender and hot as he ravished every exposed inch of skin. He removed everything but the little gold watch, which Kathleen insisted on keeping.

“Devon,” she said breathlessly, when they were both naked and he had lowered beside her, “I… I should confess to a small prevarication.” She wanted complete honesty between them. No secrets, nothing held back.

“Yes?” he asked with his lips against her throat, one of his thighs pressing between hers.

“Until recently, I hadn’t really checked my calendar to make certain I was —” She broke off as he used the edge of his teeth to delicately score her throat. “— counting days properly. And I had already resolved to take full responsibility for…” His tongue was playing in the hollow at the base of her neck. “… what happened that morning. After breakfast. You remember.”

“I remember,” he said, kissing his way down to her breasts.

Kathleen grasped his head in her hands, urging him to look at her and pay attention. “Devon. What I’m trying to say is that I may have misled you last night…” She swallowed hard and forced herself to finish. “… when I said that my monthly courses had started.”

He went very still. His face was wiped clean of all expression as he stared down at her. “They haven’t?”

She shook her head, her anxious gaze searching his. “In fact, I’m quite late.”

One of his hands came to her face, a tremor running through his long fingers. “You might be pregnant?” he asked huskily.

“I’m almost certain of it.”

Devon stared down at her dazedly, a flush covering his face. “My sweet, beautiful love, my angel —” He began to look over her intently, pressing kisses along her body, caressing her stomach. “My God. This settles it: I am the luckiest sod in England.” He laughed quietly, his hands wandering over her with reverent gentleness. “I have some good news to share as well, but it pales in comparison to yours.”

“What news?” she asked, her fingers lacing through his hair.

He was about to explain when a new thought seemed to occur to him. His smile faded, his expression turning perplexed. Adjusting his position so that he could look directly into her eyes, he said, “Your condition would have become obvious before long. What were you going to do? When were you going to tell me?”

She glanced up at him sheepishly. “I had considered the possibility of… going somewhere… before you found out.”

“Going somewhere?” He looked thunderstruck. “Leaving me?”

“I hadn’t made a decision —” she began apologetically.

A low growl interrupted her, leaving no doubt as to what he thought of that idea. He leaned over her, radiating ferocious heat. “I would have found you. You’ll never be safe from me.”

“I don’t want to be —” she began, and would have said more, but he had taken her mouth with a deep, aggressive kiss.

Grasping her wrists, Devon pinned them over her head to stretch her out beneath him. After anchoring with his weight, he entered her in a single thrust. As he slid deeper, again and again, she struggled to breathe around the jumbled pleasure-sounds in her throat, moans and half-formed words. Spreading herself wider, she tried to take as much of him as possible.

He was claiming her, pumping slowly, pausing almost imperceptibly before each thrust to allow her to brace against him. His fingers laced with hers, his mouth voracious, lavishing her with kisses. The pleasure advanced in rolling waves, causing her to writhe until her body was out of rhythm with his.

He reached down to her hips and pinned them firmly to the bed so that no movement was possible. She whimpered, receiving each thrust without being able to return it, while her inner flesh worked on him convulsively as if to compensate for her outward stillness.

His breath caught as he felt her reach the summit, shudders of physical joy making her press up against him so desperately that her slim hips almost lifted his weight. Groaning, he pushed deep and held, the heat of him flooding her, while she clung to him with every part of herself, pulling in every hard pulse of his release.

A long time later, as they lay entwined and talked drowsily, Devon murmured, “Will you tell Helen tomorrow that she no longer has to marry Winterborne?”

“Yes, if you like.”

“Good. There’s a limit to how much discussion of betrothals a man can endure in one day.” Picking up the gold watch, still on its chain around Kathleen’s neck, he traced its smooth casing over her chest in an idle path.

She pushed out her lower lip. “You still have to propose to me.”

He couldn’t resist bending to take her lip between his and tugging lightly. “I already did.”

“I meant properly, with a ring.”

The watch ascended the rise of her breast, the skin-warmed gold sliding over the tightening peak. “It seems I’ll be off to the jeweler’s tomorrow.” Devon grinned as he saw the flicker of anticipation in her eyes. “That pleases you, does it?”

She nodded, sliding her arms around his neck. “I love your presents,” she confessed. “No one’s ever given me such beautiful things.”

“Little love,” he murmured, his lips grazing hers. “I’ll shower you with treasure.” Letting the watch rest between her breasts, he lifted his hand to caress her cheek. A wry note entered his voice. “I suppose you’ll want a full-fledged proposal on bended knee?”