The question she had asked was like a physical presence between them.

“Well?” she asked. “Has it . . . come time?”

The trepidation was obvious in that voice of hers, and he brought his palm up to rub his face. Unlike her, he was fully illuminated, and he didn’t want her to be able to see him. If she was already anxious, the sight of him wasn’t going to help.

“Xcor.”

“I am not an animal.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I would never . . . take you in your current condition. That would be beastly.”

The deep breath she took was audible even over the fire’s crackle. And not for the first time, he hated the position he’d put her in. He was actively lording what he’d discovered over her, forcing her to be here with him, keeping her engaged with him even though it was obviously not something she would choose freely and in spite of the fact that it put her in danger.

The Black Dagger Brotherhood did not forgive their enemies any better than he did. And consorting with a known traitor was a capital offense according to the Old Laws.

Considering he and his Bastards had managed put a bullet into Wrath’s throat last fall? That didn’t put them on any . . . what were they called, Boy Scotch?—lists.

“Nine months,” she said.

“What?”

“Since we’ve been meeting.”

He thought back to the beginning, when she had fed him from her wrist beneath that tree. And then later, when he had disarmed himself and gotten into that car with her. He had kissed her then—

“Are you aroused?” she said.

As he recoiled, his body shifted of its own accord, his hips punching up before he could stop the movement.

“Are you?” she whispered.

“Do you really want me to answer that.”

“I asked, didn’t I.”

“Yes.”

There was a long pause. “You are agreeing that I asked that?”

He dropped his hand and stared into the dim corner, giving her every chance to remember exactly whom she was talking to. “I think we need to change the subject.”

“Answer me.”

“I did.”

Given the sound she made in her throat, he knew damn well she was swallowing hard, and he had no regrets that he made her feel awkward. After however many nights of meeting up—typically twice a week—he had never taken anything to the next level.

At least, not while she was in his presence.

When it was just him alone with his memories of her? All bets were off.

At this moment, however, he felt like the boundary he had every intention of crossing at some point shouldn’t be approached at all. And he told himself it was because of the pregnancy.

Of course it was—

“I want to see.”

Xcor went dead still, his breath freezing in his chest along with his heart. “Why? I can assure you I have the anatomy required of males—and in any event, I cannot fathom why its precise dimensions would be of any interest to you until the time, as you say, comes.”

“Show me.”

He frowned and glanced to the windows. He’d pulled the drapes. His bastards were out fighting, and they would not be returning to the property’s main house until closer to dawn. But injuries in the field happened, and on occasion, required treatment away from the back alleys of downtown—

Wait a moment. He was not dropping his trousers. So this analysis was unnecessary.

Xcor got to his feet, and refused to look further than the fact that he did not want to expose himself to her. “We shall conclude this meeting the now.”

“Why? I should like to see you. It is a simple enough request.”

Not even close, he thought. “Why would you want to do that.”

“I thought you wanted to have sex with me. That’s the whole point of all this, isn’t it.”

Xcor prowled over to her, his temper rising—along with the heat in his veins. Bracing his hands on the arms of the chair, he leaned over, forcing her back into the cushions.

“It is my intention,” he snapped, “when the time comes, to spare you the visual. So I fail to see why a show would help you through what is going to be done to you.”

The wave of anger that wafted up from her was a shock. She had shown him fear. Courtesy. A gracious restraint that made him respect her as much as he coveted her.

This was new.

“What ails you?” he asked. “What e’er has made you thus.”

Without warning, and with surprising strength, she shoved him out of the way and burst up from the chair.

Layla paced around, making a tight circle in front of the fire, and her emotions were such that the air vibrated about her.

Eventually, she stopped before the flames, putting her hands on her hips as if arguing with them in her mind.

“My sister is dying,” she blurted.

Xcor released his breath on a curse. “I am sorry.”

“Her life is coming to an end.” Layla’s hands went to her swollen belly. “I have never really had a lover. In spite of this pregnancy, I feel like I am a virgin.”

Xcor settled his weight upon the chair’s padded arm. Or collapsed was more like it. For one, he hated thinking of the mechanics of how she had begotten the young. For two . . .

He shook his head, tossing that thought right out. “The male has not mistreated you, has he?”

“Oh, no. And I do love Qhuinn. He is my family. But as I told you, the mating that occurred during my needing was solely for the purpose of having a young. I can barely remember what transpired.” She looked over at him, the flickering glow making her seem impossibly beautiful. “My sister is dying. I am alive and I have not lived. That is why I say to you . . . show me.”

It was not supposed to be like this between them.

Layla hadn’t meant to reveal this truth about herself to Xcor. Or to ask him to do what she had. But ever since she had walked into this little house, her brain had been functioning on two tracks: one here with him, the other back in that exam room at the training center.

Where she had stood over the contorted body of her sister, horrified to find out that yet another of them had been stricken with the Arrest.

Paranoia made her wonder if she had the disease; if she could pass it down to her young. There had been no episodes for her, but when had they started for Selena? Layla was younger than the other Chosen . . . was it only a matter of time?

Of course, there was a good possibility that the mental wheel spin was tied to her hormones. She had noticed her thinking growing more convoluted and less accurate as the pregnancy had continued.

That did not, however, change the reality that, as all but a virgin who was in fact pregnant, she was scared of never knowing sex. Angry at what she had been denied by fate. Grateful for her young, and yet stifled by her body’s natural progress.

And Xcor was the only one she could turn to. The Brothers were all mated, and besides, she didn’t think of them sexually. Further, it wasn’t as if she were going to come into contact with anything else of the male persuasion anytime soon.

Xcor was her only avenue to express the toxic mix of fear and yearning.

He cleared his throat. “You need to consider this more thoroughly.”

Lowering her eyes, she focused on his hips, at the straining length behind the fly of his combat pants. “I am.”

His sharp inhale inflated that powerful chest and he dropped his hands to cover himself. The veins running down into his blunt fingers were yet another symbol of the power in his body, and abruptly, she wondered what his hands looked like on his sex.

“Leave the now,” he said. “And consider—”

“No.”

“I am not a toy, Layla. I am not something to be taken out and played with—and put away at will. Once certain doors are opened, they cannae be closed neatly. Do you understand? I have every intention of having you, but I shall endeavor to honor you and respect you for your station. This is against my nature, however, and if pushed too far, I shall revert. Especially when it comes to sex.”