Chapter Eight

Since Mom would only be in town a short time, I was worried I wouldn't be able to find "the dress" while she was with me. I also knew there was a time crunch to find one at all. The bridal shop Joan had chosen was in Delabole and she and the owner's mother had gone to school together, so they had pulled out all the stops for us. When they had heard about the baby, they had swapped the champagne they were going to serve with sparkling grape juice, and Kelly, the owner, had assigned herself to be at my beck and call. I felt like royalty.

I went in with a vision in my head of a dress I had seen in a magazine: very simple and form fitting, with a low cut back and long lace sleeves. "We have several dresses that are similar, leave it to me," Kelly told me, whisking me away to a changing room.

Unfortunately, when I tried them on, I knew the style wasn't going to work; there was just no stretch to them, and therefore no place to put the bump I knew would be prominent by then. Mom could see that I was disappointed.

"Don't give up yet, Anna," she said. "There are still dozens of options to try."

Joan's pick was stretchier, lacy, and with a small train. It was very pretty but it just wasn't the one.

"No, that's not you at all, now that I see you in it…though you do look stunning," she added. "You need something more…I don't know, vintage maybe?"

Thankfully, it didn't take much longer to find the perfect dress. I tried on a few more with Mom and Joan giving their feedback, and the last one I put on, I knew from their reaction I had found it. It had a boho feel, with a lace bodice and elbow length flutter sleeves, and hung loosely and flowing to the floor. It would perfectly accommodate my belly as it grew. Best of all, it was comfortable, and I was all about comfort…especially now, when all of my clothes were starting to feel tight.

"Oh, you look so beautiful!" Joan exclaimed, wiping her eyes. "Martin is just going to love you in that dress."

"Do you think so?" I replied, admiring my reflection in the mirror. I had to admit, I was kind of…well, glowing, for lack of a better term. Kelly finished the look by adding not a veil, but a sparkling silvery crown of sorts that was reminiscent of the daisy chain crowns I used to make when I was a kid. It was absolutely perfect.

"You look gorgeous, honey," Mom added, practically sobbing. "That dress was made for you."

It would need a bit of altering, but the seamstress at the dress shop assured me that she could get it finished in time for the wedding, even though we were on a tight schedule. Thank goodness…one less thing to worry about.

By the time we were finished, I was pretty exhausted. Martin had offered to cook for us at Joan's after our shopping trip, so of course we all jumped at the chance. He was already in the kitchen at the farm when we returned, chopping vegetables and stirring things on the stove. I put my arms around him and squeezed, planting a kiss on his cheek.

"Was your outing successful?" he asked, hugging me and then going back to what he was doing at the sink.

"It was indeed…I won't have to go down the aisle naked after all," I replied, and I saw his cheeks turn pink. He raised an eyebrow at me.

"And how are you feeling?" he went on.

"Tired, but otherwise fine, thank you. What are you cooking? It smells like heaven."

"Fresh bread, at the moment, to go with the pasta primavera," he answered.

"Can I do anything to help?" Mom asked, but Martin shook his head.

"No, thank you. If you would please take my fiance into the living room and make her put her feet up, dinner will be ready soon."

"I don't need to put my feet up!" I started to protest, but he gave me one of those looks that told me there was no use in arguing. I rolled my eyes and dutifully made myself comfortable in the recliner chair in the living room. The three of us chattered on about the details of the wedding and what I had tentatively planned so far while Martin put the finishing touches on the meal. I was absolutely ravenous, and was glad when he called us to the table. I could have easily eaten the entire loaf of bread he had baked.

Martin kept his eye on me as I devoured everything on my plate in record time. "Your appetite has certainly increased since you have fallen pregnant," he observed. "But you really should watch your caloric intake, Anna, and try to eat smaller portions while you are still experiencing some nausea."

I gave him a withering look. "Thank you, doctor," I told him. I was about to add another sarcastic comment, but I suddenly wasn't feeling so well…as if the mere mention of nausea had manifested it in me. I tried in vain to telepathically keep my stomach from rolling, but it was no use. Excusing myself, I bolted upstairs to the bathroom, and there went all of Martin's lovely dinner. Damn. Why did he always have to be right?

I used the spare toothbrush I kept at Joan's to quickly brush my teeth. When I returned downstairs, Mom and Joan fussed over me, but Martin didn't even have the decency to look concerned, as if he had predicted the entire thing. The bugger. He did, however, make me a slice of toast with the homemade bread and placed it in front of me without comment.

Mom would be returning to Virginia on Monday, so that gave us another day to spend together. Since Joan had a much bigger guest room at the farm, Mom would stay there with her, but I made plans to be there early the next morning to visit with her. After the kitchen was cleaned and the leftovers put away, Martin and I said our goodbyes and headed back to the surgery.

The minute we got in the car to leave, I leaned over and gave him a long, sweet kiss. When we broke apart, he asked, "what was that for?"

"For helping Joan get my Mom here," I answered. "It was a really special day, and I am so grateful she got to be here with me. That was a thank you kiss."

His eyes softened. "I'm glad you've had a good day." He hesitated, then traced my cheek with his thumb. "You are so beautiful," he whispered.

I leaned into his touch, feeling the familiar hum of desire begin to warm me.

"Let's go home," I replied, giving him a naughty smile. "I want to do unspeakable things to you."

Martin's eyebrows shot up, and he hastily backed out of the drive and sped down the road toward the village. I very slowly let my hand roam up his thigh as he drove, brushing it against his groin before making my way back down to his knee. I could hear his intake of ragged breath and giggled, my hand beginning to take the path again. When I had reached the front of his trousers for the second time, he quickly grabbed my hand and held it there against the growing bulge. It was my turn to gasp, surprised.

"Leave it there," he nearly growled, and I laughed.

"Yes, sir," I answered.

We somehow managed to make it back to my cottage without incident, though toward the end of the journey Martin had begun to drive quite a bit faster than he normally would. We stumbled toward the door, and I drove the key into the lock with trembling fingers. I had barely gotten the door closed before he had pulled me against him, kissing me deeply, one hand tangled in my hair while the other squeezed my bottom.

"Upstairs," I panted, "NOW." I kicked off my shoes and shed most of my clothes as I went, throwing my shirt on the banister and stepping out of my jeans on the stair landing. I turned to face him in the doorway of my bedroom and noticed he was carrying everything I had just taken off, which made me laugh again. Even in a heightened state of arousal, Martin had taken the time to pick up after me.

"What?" he asked, bewildered.

"Nothing," I chuckled, shaking my head. "Just throw everything on the chair."

We made quick work of finishing getting undressed, and his mouth was all over me, tasting me, his hot breath making my skin flush and burn. He took his time with his kisses and caresses, and I felt my need for him build in perfect, agonizing slowness. When our bodies finally joined, we set into a languid rhythm that quickly had me shuddering and gasping in his arms, and soon his body responded in kind. Sated, we lay in each others' arms, and he placed soft kisses on my temple.

"I love you, my Anna," he whispered, and in a few moments, we had both drifted off to sleep.