Pregnancy Proposals. Rebecca Winters

can. A new camera. Tonnerre’s hoof smashed yours. After I get you settled, I’ll take a trip into town and purchase a new one. I’m afraid the film was ruined.”

      “Don’t worry about it, Lance. I put in a new cartridge this morning, so no pictures are lost. As for the camera, I don’t need another one right now. I’ll wait till I get home and arrange to buy one through my old boss. He’ll get me something wholesale.”

      Lance started the car and they took off for the château. Since the downpour earlier, the greenery bordering the road looked wet and fresh. He drove with an economy of movement.

      “Where did you work?”

      “At a photography studio.”

      “Did you like it?”

      “As jobs go, it was fine. I started working there part-time during my high school days. After graduation I increased my hours to full-time to save money for college.”

      “Did you attend Yale like your husband?”

      It appeared Geoff and Lance had been talking.

      “Oh, no,” she scoffed. “I was a mediocre student and couldn’t have afforded it. I took a few night classes at a local college before meeting Richard. After that I sort of became his unofficial assistant.”

      “And wife,” Lance interjected.

      She nodded. “Yes.”

      “No more school?”

      “No. One day I’ll go for a degree in something, but now that a baby is on the way, that will have to wait until my child is in school full-time.”

      “In other words, you don’t plan to let someone else raise it.”

      “There are jobs I can do at home. I’ll try anything in order to be there for my son or daughter,” she vowed.

      “That sounds final.”

      “It’s the way I feel.”

      She heard him take a deep breath. “Then your child will be lucky. Until the day she died my mother was always there for me.”

      “Geoff told me she passed away while you were at the university.”

      He slowed down to negotiate the turn into the Du Lac estate. “That’s right. Looking back I had an idyllic upbringing.” His head suddenly turned toward her. “How early did you lose your parents?”

      “At four years of age. Pictures are the only things I have to remember them. Knowing I’m going to be a mother makes that my first priority, no matter what it takes.”

      “At the moment it requires bed rest.” He brought the car to a halt and levered his long legs from the front seat to help her.

      She could have managed on her own, but he cupped her elbow to assist her inside. The minute they reached the foyer, she found herself in his arms once more. Her ponytail swung back and forth.

      “You don’t have to do this,” she protested, but he ignored her cry and carried her up the two flights of stairs as if she were light as air.

       CHAPTER FOUR

      LANCE opened the door of her suite, not releasing her until he’d laid her on the bed. To her relief she didn’t think any of the staff had seen them.

      His eyes bored into hers. “Don’t you dare lift a finger. I’ll be back in a little while and bring you a dinner tray. You can take your vitamins then.” He acted more worried than a mother hen with her chick. After their stormy beginning, she would never have guessed Lance had this side to him.

      “I don’t need waiting on.”

      “I beg to differ.” His mouth was so close she could feel his breath on her lips before he stood up. “Defy me at your own peril.”

      Lance was a force she had no desire to contend with at the moment. She spread her hands apart. “All right. But please don’t say anything to Geoff. He shouldn’t have any worries.”

      “Agreed,” Lance murmured before disappearing from the room.

      The moment the door closed she got up and hurried into the bathroom. After getting caught in the rain, and then being examined at the clinic, she needed to shower and wash her hair.

      Once that was accomplished, she toweled herself and left her hair loose so it would dry faster. She put on a clean yellow nightgown and matching fleece robe. When she climbed back into bed, it felt good.

      She’d barely nestled under the covers when the door opened and she saw Lance walk in carrying a tray in one hand, and a bunch of magazines in the other.

      Through narrowed lids she noticed he’d showered, too. He wore a silk shirt in a dark coffee shade and tan trousers. Whether he donned formal clothes or military khaki, he was so attractive she found she couldn’t take her eyes off him.

      As he crossed the distance and started to lower the tray to the bedside table, she glimpsed one of the life-size wall paintings of Lancelot directly behind him. The handsome knight was leaning over the queen in their bedchamber, as if he’d just come in from hunting and was eager to taste her mouth before joining her.

      The gorgeous man waiting on Andrea was in much the same position. In that instant she couldn’t separate the two pictures in her mind. The pulse at her throat began to throb a wild crescendo.

      Lance must have noticed her reaction because his wandering eyes focused on that telling spot for a breathless moment before they continued their slow, intimate journey to her face.

      Heat swept through her body to her cheeks. Their gazes fused.

      “How are you feeling now?” His voice resonated deep inside her.

      She inhaled unsteadily. “I—I’m fine.”

      “Fine enough to try and eat something?”

      Andrea looked over at the magazines and tray he’d put next to her pills. He’d brought hot tea, broth, apple slices, grape juice, water and a roll. She had an idea he’d picked everything out himself. Though she wasn’t hungry, she didn’t want him to think she was ungrateful, so she reached for an apple slice and began munching.

      The gesture seemed to please him. He moved away. She thought he intended to leave. Instead he reached for an upholstered chair and brought it over to her bedside before sitting down to drink a cup of the steaming brew.

      Lounging back with one long leg crossed over the other at the ankles, he looked the epitome of the French aristocrat relaxing at home in luxurious surroundings. A far cry from the man in camouflage who’d moved through the forest with the stealth of a savage cat. Yet both made up part of the same fascinating man standing attendance on her.

      “Good? Bad?” he asked, reminding her of the fruit she’d just swallowed.

      “Good actually. I’m surprised.” She reached for another slice. “You make an excellent nurse.” He was a man of many talents. “I’m sorry you returned home from war to discover you have two patients to wait on.”

      He stared at her over the rim of the cup. “Since both are improving, I have no complaints.”

      She reached for the glass of grape juice and took a sip. “Have you talked to your father since we got back from the clinic?”

      “Yes. Because he had a visitor today, I told him I thought he should have a quiet evening. Tomorrow will be soon enough for you to join him for lunch. He agreed with one stipulation.”

      “What was that?”

      “He expects me to keep you entertained.” Her heart raced for no good reason. “I told him it wasn’t a hardship.”

      “Your