At first, Balthazar's hands felt cold against her belly, cold enough to make her grit her teeth, less she say something, but the longer he touched her, the warmer he became, as if her flesh, her life, lent warmth to those strong, supple hands caressing her.  She smiled as they continued to plot, feeling the warmth spreading back into her.  "Never publicly, never in my presence or to my face, but. . .yes. . .I believe she does."