Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews, Guests, Awed, Fanofyours and Old Soul of Wonderland!

Thanks for the responses about a self-published ebook for this or the Jason/Emma series. Only five readers contracted me expressing interest. After looking into it, I wouldn't break out even with 5 sales with the cost to create an ebook - front cover, editor and copyright filing fees. Being a purchased product, I wouldn't feel right not hiring an editor to give readers the best possible product - I'm so close to content that sometimes I read what I know it should say rather than what it actually says (autocorrect and minor consistency errors). Editor friends would do it for cheap, but it's still an expense. Unfortunately, right now I'm not in a position to afford to not recoup ebook publishing expense. But I'm excited that some readers like the story(ies) enough to want an ebook! :) Maybe in the future it'll work.


He sat at the desk with a pile of work to do to transfer over the bank. And not gotten a damn thing done the past hour.

Tanya sat at the settee half way across his office and read a medical textbook. She seemed absorbed in her studies, absently stroking her seven-month swollen belly. Dear god, that stroking brought back memories of last night. Her hands were so soft, her touch so shy and gentle... Those long brown tresses hung loose over her shoulders this morning, with a single clip sweeping it back from her face at the back of her head. The locks were as silky as they looked, having gained a beautiful shine over the months as her nutrition improved. The deformity of her breast was apparent in her new blue dress, but it brought great pleasure that she didn't wear the prosthesis around him. Her eyes flicked up and she smiled as she turned a page. Then she went back to reading. Dear god, she was exquisite.

Propping his chin in hand, he leaned on the chair armrest to watch. She had a strength and yet gentleness about her. How strange it was to have a wife who - more than once - had rushed to danger to rescue him, using brains for what she lacked in brawn. This little slip of a woman had far more bravery and gumption than any man he'd ever met. Sometimes she left him speechless with her wit. Society said that women should be meek, obedient and most definitely dependent on a man for everything. Anna had been the ideal image of an upper class woman. Yet after having tasted Tanya's spirit, it'd be impossible to go back. She had a raging thirst for knowledge, and if properly educated, would likely surpass his own intellect. She had devotion that even the threat of death hadn't been able to waiver. And her wit and saucy tongue were perfection against his harsh demeanor.

She wiggled her nose and sniffled as if a sneeze threatened. A smile tugged at never having witnessed her sneeze. Decorum dictated that it be a delicate little noise. Good god, he shouldn't be this curious to see how she would sneeze.

"Achoo!"

It wasn't a delicate sneeze but neither a sneeze as violent as a man's.

Hiccup.

No, it couldn't possibly be...

She sneezed and then hiccupped again. "Excuse me." Then she went back to reading.

She did - she hiccupped when she sneezed. Somehow something so unexpected from her was expected. His shoulders shook as he covered his mouth to smother a laugh. God, she was adorable. "God bless you."

But she didn't seem to hear. Her eyebrows rose at something she read on the page. Then she turned the page, seeming quite absorbed in the reading. Her cheeks burned red and she slammed the book shut with huge eyes. She must've reached the male anatomy section.

"Anything wrong?" Biting his lip held back the smile.

Her whole face burned. "No," she squeaked.

"What were you reading?" He grabbed the cane and pushed himself up to limp over. It was hard to resist teasing the little minx.

"Nothing."

"Do you have questions?" He eased onto the settee beside her. Her shyness was endearing, but his Tanya would be brave enough to ask what other women wouldn't.

Nibbling her lip, she glanced down at his lap for a split instant and then met his eyes. "If we do consummate, won't you be hitting the babe?"

He looked away. She had such innocence and didn't need more hardship. It's be better for her to not know consummation wouldn't be possible without surgery. Hopefully the birth would progress safely and not require a cesarian section, only surgery to help her fit the babe through. Cutting that scar tissue would also then make consummation possible.

"Mark?"

Clearing his throat, he looked up. "I've been thinking, and with how fragile the pregnancy has been, it'd be best to not consummate before the birth."

That look of shame from months ago came back as she looked away. "You don't want...?"

"No." Taking her hands, he met her eyes. "It may not be safe for you and the babe. That is my reason."

Her hands tightened in his for a moment as she nodded. But she seemed to struggle with inner demons.

The woman needed some kind of reassurance of affection. Goddammit, he wanted to give it. "Stay here." Pushing himself to his feet, he went upstairs.


It took Mark several minutes to return. "Close your eyes." He limped across the room on his cane.

Closing her eyes, she frowned in confusion. He didn't seem angry or resentful at not being able to claim his marriage right. Neither did he seem glad of the excuse to not consummate. Something cold laid around her neck. Opening her eyes and looking down, she gasped. "Mark!" A strand of diamonds. "This must have cost a fortune!"

"Do you like it?" He sat.

"It's gorgeous!" She ran a hand over the necklace and looked at him. "Why?"

He scowled. "I need a reason to give my wife a gift?"

"No." A flush swept up. "Wretch, I can't deny it."

The man cracked a smile. "Good."

"But it's far too extravagant for me to where to the market or anywhere."

His eyebrow cocked. "Should my wife wish to wear diamonds to darn socks, so be it."

A giggle bubbled up. "You spoil me."

He growled. "Should I choose to bestow an occasional gift on my wife, it is to be accepted. And should said gifts occur on a monthly, weekly or daily occasion, it is my discretion to determine if it spoils my wife. I will not have a spoiled, entitled wife."

She smiled. "And bestowing emeralds and diamonds and books and lingerie upon me within days isn't spoiling?"

"Are you saying I'm incapable of determining if you're spoiled?" He gave a firm look.

"No, Mark." Happiness beamed as she stroked the gems.

"Then hush, woman." He leaned down and pulled out a stack of fine paper from under the settee. Then he retrieved a wooden box with a red ribbon and set it in her lap.

Untying the red velvet ribbon, she lifted the lid. Tears sprang at seeing the treasures inside.

"On the way out of town, I passed your house. The roof had caved in. I stopped in case there was anything you might value inside. Nothing caught my eye that seemed to be worth even sentimental value. But then I spotted a wall board in perfect alignment whereas the others weren't. The space of it seemed like something where only a child would hide treasures. I found this."

"Papa let me use Mama's tools when I was little. I broke some and damaged the brushes. I was so scared of getting in trouble that I hid them in the wall when I was six. I forget they were even there." With a sniffle, she stroked the brushes.

"I had them cleaned and the splintered wood repaired. The paintbrushes were so worn that they weren't even safe to use. I asked the carpenter to restore them to their original state. If you should like them refinished, I can ask Tim to drive them back into town - "

She threw her arms around his neck. "No, they're perfect," she said with a watery laugh and let go to run her fingers over the brushes and art tools. She stroked the mahogany box. "Where did you find a box to fit them?"

"I couldn't, so I had it made while on my trip." He gently shut it and turned the box over to an inscription on the back.

Merry Christmas, Tanya. May your mother be your guiding hand in this and in your life.

Your husband,

Mark

She looked up at him. "How did you know?"

"I found out that Brigands is quite the history man. He said that these are Chippewa art tools and it's quite rare for a young person to be given these tools. He surmised that your mother was probably so talented with art that she was appointed the tribe's storyteller to paint their history on tepees and such. If the men went into war, she would've been the one to paint the warriors, which is supposedly quite the honor."

Setting aside the box, she gave him a sound kiss. "Thank you," she whispered and rested her forehead against his. "These are the most wonderful gifts." Then she pushed her bulk up and hurried to the door. "Wait here."

She returned with papers clutched to her chest. "I know I'm not educated or very intelligent - "

He frowned. "You are intelligent - "

"I said 'very.' I know I'm intelligent." She cracked a smile.

A throaty laugh filled the air.

"But I think you're a gifted physician. You lit up when you did surgery. You'll be angry and probably shout and stomp and curse me, but I talked to the lawyers before your trial. It took them some time to look into if something was possible. This arrived yesterday. I want you to be happy, and there's not really anything I can give you."

His brow furrowed like perhaps he had arguement.

"It'll take some time and work, but should you wish for your license back, it's possible." She handed him the papers from the lawyers outlining the training and supervision he'd have to undergo to be relicensed, should the courts approve it.

The seconds ticked past as he stared down at the papers without a word.

"I know a proper wife is to look the other way and not, well..."

"Not pry into her husband's affairs and legal matters that are none of her business," he said in a hard tone without looking up.

Wrapping her arms over the babe, she drew a deep breath. Anger was expected. Looking past his black eye, bruised cheek and split lip, she searched his eyes when he looked up.

"I never thought I'd feel happy again. And you make me feel goddamn things I've never felt before. You make me happy." He growled the words.

A smile tugged. "I should hate to see what you're like when excited."

He shot forward, pressing her back against settee as his mouth captured hers in a kiss. One hand braced against the back of the settee to hold his weight off and the other cupped her belly. His hot breath panted across her lips, the rich, masculine scent intoxicating. Her heart skipped a beat as butterflies flitted. His shoulders felt so warm and strong under her hands. He was so masculine and beautiful. Even the chording of his neck and the smoothness of his jaw offered gentle strength and protection. "Kiss me," he whispered.

"I am," she whispered with hot cheeks and pulled back enough to look into his eyes.

"Like last night." Something in his gaze became vulnerable.

Last night had been full of blinding need to simply be his. "Last night, I would imagine, was not proper at all for a wife to behave so wantonly. I'm sure Anna never would've - "

"Made a man feel desired? Made his desire for his wife intensify?"

She blinked.

That black eyebrow cocked in a slightly aristocratic way. "You have no desire to kiss me like that again?"

"No, I just - "

"Then obey me, woman."

"Obey you?" Her eyebrows rose in challenge.

"I distinctly recall 'obey' in our vows. Should I say to kiss me in a way that requires me to take you to our chamber, you will do so."

"No."

"No?" His eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"I am not some employee to bend to your whims. If I should feel inclined to acquiesce, then I shall." Pressing her lips together held back a smile.

"You saucy wench," he gasped, his expression appalled. Then his brow furrowed. "As your husband, you will damn well do what I say - "

"Must I do it damn well too?"

He snorted trying to withhold a laugh and a smile leaked out for a moment. Then he composed himself into a scowl again and pushed himself back to sit, pulling her to her knees. A sound swat on the backside and then with his arms he lifted and turned her to recline across his lap. "That's for your insolence. Do I need to punish you again?"

With a giggle, she nodded and rolled toward him.

A smile leaked out as he reached around and gave a light swat. "Now will you give me a kiss?"

She smiled and shook her head.

He sighed in exasperation. "Why not?"

"Because my grandparents are here, and kissing you leads to much more." Her cheeks burned as she fingered his top shirt button.

"It doesn't need to lead to more," he growled, seeming irritated.

"Did you not like anything last night beyond the kissing?" She frowned.

The man blinked. "I...you..." He actually blushed. "Of course I did!" He glared. "You think I am daft?!"

She nuzzled against his chest and snuggled closer. "I do not wish to kiss you like that right now because I will want more - more of not being ashamed and feeling beautiful and intelligent...of being safe in a good man's arms." With a contented sigh, she closed her eyes. "I never had true happiness until you."

No response for several seconds. Then his arms wrapped around and held fast without a word even though his heart thundered fast against her cheek.

"I know consummation will probably hurt at first because of the scars, but I will welcome it because it means having you." Leaning her head back to meet his gaze, she offered a soft smile. "I trust you that I'll eventually find pleasure in offering you my body. You can take me whenever you think it's safe for the babe."

"If I said right now that if I'm gentle the babe would be safe, you would go with me upstairs?"

There was no need to pause for thought. From the depths of her heart, she trusted him with the very act that had been a horrific nightmare. She nodded.

He searched her eyes, his expression unreadable. Then he pressed a kiss to her forehead and tucked her head under his chin. "Tanya," he breathed and seemed content to simply lie together.

Being so close against his hard muscle proved too hard to not kiss such a perfect specimen of a man. She tilted her head back and held his shoulders to pull herself up higher. The moment her lips touched his, a deep, throaty groan vibrated from his chest. He needed no further invitation.

Minutes later, his hand moved higher under the skirts and stroked her bare belly.

"My grandparents are probably awake now!" She kept her voice low, utterly mortified.

He actually grinned as he shifted his weight to lean up on his elbow and look down at her. "Good of them to not disturb us. I'm certain all of England heard you." A mischevious twinkle filled his eye as he stroked the babe, and he didn't seem at all distressed about his pants straining. "No clothes tonight."

"Oh no," she laughed and scooted back to push herself up, only the man leaned his weight on her legs enough to prohibit getting farther away than a recline against the settee arm. "You set yourself up for misery..." His hand sliding down halted all thought for a moment. She cleared her throat and pushed his hand away. "Behave. We have guests, for one - "

"Who understand what it's like to be newlyweds." He scooted closer so his lips were a hairsbreath away. His voice dropped to a rich, husky baritone that rumbled in his broad chest, causing shivers of delight. "Do you not find pleasure when I touch you, wife?" Those blue eyes dropped to her lips, as if mesmerized.

Swallowing hard, she drew a steadying breath to calm the racing of her heart. "You are becoming irrational with lust." She reached down to touch, but he caught her hand and locked gazes.

"A man has never perished from desiring his woman." Then he brought her hand to his lips and brushed a soft kiss over the back of her hand. Those deep blue eyes seemed to reach into the very depths of her soul.

Oh dear heaven, this must be what melting into a puddle felt like. Brash, arrogant, rough, impatient, rake...never had it occurred that he could be a master of seduction. This side of him seemed a bit wild...and free. Drawing a steadying breath, she searched his eyes for what seemed to be new territory. "Anna never let you seduce her."

With a growl of irritation, he leaned forward and gave a light nip to her earlobe, causing a thrill of desire. "I don't wish to discuss her, but no, a chaste kiss in daylight and quick bedding in the dark were the extent of passion." A slight note of something colored his tone, but it was hard to put a finger on it. Then he kissed her neck.

She frowned. "Am I not being proper?" Anna knew Society's rules for a proper lady. All she knew were maids and stable boys tossing up skirts in the barn.

"I don't goddamn care what's proper. No one but you and I know what occurs, so it has little consequence." His hands massaged her breasts as he kissed the other side of her neck. "I want my Tanya."

His Tanya. Closing her eyes, she basked in the warmth of those words. Then her eyes flew open as it dawned - his tone had been resentment toward Anna.


Grandfather and Grandmama were already at the breakfast table when Mark walked her in on his arm a few minutes later - the table only across the foyer from Mark's study.

"Good morning. Tanya was helping me with some work, and I lost track of time," Mark said casually and then pulled out her chair. He didn't seem to suffer the same burning cheeks symptoms as she.

"It's good for a breeding woman to keep busy," Grandfather said, seeming oblivious.

"And it's good of a man to be supportive of educating his wife," Grandmama said with a knowing smile.

Mark cleared his throat a little uncomfortably at being caught, but he regained his composure in the next instant.

"Quite a shiner you have there." Grandfather leaned closer from Mark's left. "Can you see alright?"

She blinked. "Why? What's wrong that he wouldn't see?" Her heart pounded with worry.

"His eyeball is slightly pink from an internal hemorrhage."

"Good heavens! Mark, let him check your eye." She set aside her napkin to go grab Mark's bag.

Mark set a hand over hers on the table. "I can see fine, woman. Eat."

A panicked look flew to Grandfather.

"He won't go blind over breakfast. I'll check him when we're done." He smiled and picked up his fork.

Mark turned to Grandmama. "I should ask your advice: I've delivered many babes, but I am clueless as to what you actually do with one once it's born or not ill."

Grandmama exchanged a smile with her. "Grandson, Tanya will take care of the feedings - "

"And no wet nurse," she jumped in. "I know upperclass women aren't supposed to feed their babes, but I will feed my own child. And I don't want a nanny either."

His eyebrows rose before he remembered himself. "You can do what you wish, but you're welcome to a wet nurse and nanny."

"What am I to do all day while someone else raises our babe? If you aren't working at the bank, what are you going to do? I don't want a wet nurse and nanny!" She set a protective hand over her belly.

"It's a simple offer that is considered socially acceptable to offer my wife," he drawled.

Grandfather leaned over and slapped his back. "Do what Tanya tells you is the secret!" He belly laughed. "I was a nervous wreck for the first month. Lily was calm and seemed to know exactly what to do. You'll be amazed at how the howl of an infant will make you cower. I think I cried the third night I was a father."

Mark paled.

She patted Mark's arm. "I dealt with children enough as a maid. I'll get you through it," she laughed.

"Do they really cry so much?" Mark gulped.

"All the time," Grandfather laughed. "Feeding, holding, changing...everything." He leaned closer. "And forget about sleeping until they're three years."

Poor Mark looked so white that she and Grandmama burst out laughing.

While the men went into the other room to check Mark's eye, Grandmama took her for a walk around the ballroom at Mark's insistence to exercise the babe. "What's your home like?"

"The English have moved to Colorado, and although the we keep many of our traditions, some of us live in cabins during the winters. In the summer, we live in tepees and hunt our food and all of those things you've probably heard about."

"Do you have many in your tribe?"

"About forty. Our kind are scattered throughout the West. Why?"

She sighed. "I've never fit in here because I look different. When I was little, I wondered what it'd be like to live there where maybe I'd fit in and have family."

Grandmama took her hands. "And you are noticed - what a gift to not blend in."

"What?"

"You are noticed and remembered because you are different. What changes you could bring about, Tanya."

"Changes? I'm a nobody - "

"Like speaking out for women's rights," Mark said behind her.

She spun around. "What?"

"A law that allows women who are abused in marriage to file for separation."

She laughed. "That's absurd and who would listen to a woman? A 'heathen'?"

"A man who has a heavy hand in Parliament," Grandfather answered.

"No one would listen to me," she snorted.

"I would." Mark looked serious.

Grandmama smiled at her confused look. "Your husband is a wealthy man, which brings power."

"Parliament meets next week. Yes, it's a radical notion to present," he said, more animated than he'd been in a long time as he stepped closer and took her hands, "but help me write the argument. You're passionate and intelligent and..." Regret filled his eyes. "And there is no one who knows better to help me write my speech."

She chewed her lip for a moment. "When the Sheriff came and took away those men yesterday, you talked to him in private for awhile. What did you tell him you're pressing charges for?"

His jaw set and shoulders tensed as he propped his hands on the cane. "I pressed full charges."

"You didn't press for hanging, did you?"

Those blue eyes narrowed and he growled, "As deserved for what he did to you months ago."

"Mark." He was too good of a man to condemn anyone to death. "Tell me you didn't." Talking about that man made it suddenly dawned that she hadn't put in the breast prosthesis for breakfast. She folded her arms over the deformity.

"No. He deserves to live in filth and disease," he hissed. Rage crackled from his very core. "I pressed charges for life in prison, and I hope he dies a slow, painful death."

"Mark!"

His eyes flicked down to her arms, as if realizing she hid herself. His neck reddened as he exploded. "He raped and sliced and kidnapped my wife! The law would've stood behind me if I'd killed him myself!" His neck veins bulged with his shout. "I gave him mercy not being in my hands when he showed you none!"

"It is God's place to judge, not yours! You cannot leave him to rot - "

"Enough! I will goddamn leave him to rot - "

"Mark." Grandfather set a hand on his shoulder. "Let's go outside for some air."

His chest heaved in anger. He shrugged off Grandfather's hand and stood, sending the chair toppling back. Then he grabbed her wrist and pulled her up and out the door.

She had to walk fast to keep up. "Mark?"

The kitchen was the closest room, and he pulled her inside and pressed her back up against the ice box. Leaning a hand near her head, he dropped the cane and held her jaw between his thumb and forefinger. "You are mine," he snarled. "The law gives me freedom to do almost anything I wish to filth that touches my wife."

Anger and jealousy drove him toward madness. Somehow it gave comfort that her pain drove him insane.

His lips curled back in a sneer. "Look at me," he growled and turned her face up and locked eyes with her. Dangerous rage sparked in his gaze and his hot breath swept over her skin from his close stance. "Every scream, every drop of blood, every whimper he tore from you is my right to tear tenfold from him." His teeth clenched as the words hissed past his lips. "For every lie he spewed, every moment of shame he taught you, it is my right to make him rot in a black Hell of existence." His hand clasping her jaw trembled with anger. "God can decide what diseases and beatings will plague him until his death. I will not hear another word of being merciful - I have given him mercy. And I know I will regret letting him live every time you flinch in fear or shame fills your eyes." The fury was so great that tears of rage shimmered in his eyes. "Every goddamn time you hide your body, I wish for nothing more than to kill him. He breathes at this moment only because I know you would somehow feel responsible for his death. I did not kill him yesterday for your sake; and I would slay him with my last breath for your sake. Do not speak to me of having mercy for a monster who tortured my beautiful wife." His mouth crushed down with possessiveness and his tongue swept over hers in his claim. Then he snatched the cane and stormed out.

Pressing a hand to her lips, her heart still thundered from his kiss. Then she spotted Brigands and Tim at the kitchen counter staring with wide eyes just a few steps away.

Tim dabbed at his eyes eith the corner of his apron. Brigands just smiled and returned to his work.