Page 161 of Their Master

And of coursenowthere would be—

“What are you frowning about?” Smith asked.

Luke saw the other man had come back from his small death while his mind had been wandering.

“Was I frowning?” Luke asked.

Smith gave a soft snort but let him get away with the diversion.

Moira’s eyes opened and she gave a slight nod—Luke knew what that meant.

He reached out and set his hand over Smith’s, which rested on Moira’s hip. He wanted to be touching both of them when he spoke.

“Moira is pregnant.”

The look on Smith’s face—full blown shock—was priceless. He pushed up onto his elbow so he could see Moira, who was grinning.

“Already?” he asked, breathless. “Is it safe?”

Moira chuckled. “It has been two years, Smith! Besides, Doctor Felson assures me that I am as healthy as a horse.” She gave a slight shrug, the gesture so very French when she did it. “He said many women wait far less time.”

Luke could see joy and concern warring within Smith and knew exactly what it meant because he felt the same thing himself. He wanted more children—he wanted to fill their house—but he was terrified for Moira. While her pregnancy with Alexander had been almost shockingly easy, Doctor Felson said a woman never knew and that it could be different this time.

But that was a conversation Luke could have with Smith later—without Moira present.

Moira groaned. “I can see what you two are thinking—especially you, Luke. Please stop fretting right now. Everything will be fine. I don’t want you two working yourselves up into a lather like the last time and trying to confine me to bedrest. I won’t tolerate it this time.”

“Sheisbossy,” Smith mused, caressing her flat belly and looking at it quizzically, as if he might have been able to see something at only six or so weeks.

“I don’t think we fucked her hard enough last night,” Luke said.

Moira gave a startled squeak and Smith pinched her nipple. “You’d better watch out, darling,” he warned her. “You don’t want to wake the dragon.”

Luke snorted. That was Smith’s nickname for the Luke’s darker, filthier side—a side of him that was allowed to come out much more often these days.

Although they both teased Moira about being bossy, Luke knew thathewas the bossy one.

The other two really did let him cajole and steer and manipulate them.

His lips twitched into a smirk. And he loved it.

But while they might allow Luke to run their household, Smith was still master of their home.

Luke had never even used Smith’s real name—Maximus—even though Moira had experimented with it—to mixed effect—on occasion.

“I have grown into beingSmith,” Smith had admitted when Moira had pressed him on the matter.

“You don’t want a first name? You want to bejustSmith?” she’d persisted.

Smith had grinned. “Yes.JustSmith.”

Luke thought Smith’s childhood name would always be a reminder of the horrors he’d endured as a boy. Although Smith had shared his story with them, Luke knew there was a great deal he’d not told them—like the many years after that awful day, and how he’d made such a success of himself.

Perhaps Smith would never share everything about his past. Luke could understand the desire to leave such deep wounds untouched.

Besides, he didn’t need to know every detail about either Smith or Moira to love them deeply. Indeed, he appreciated the aura of mystery and reserve they both carried with them.

Luke would always think of Smith as his master and Moira would always be his mistress. He had stop questioning the way he was made or his burning desire to serve or how differently he viewed love and family. He had finally learned to be happy that he could have what he wanted, no matter how unconventional his desires might be.

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