Love and the Single Heiress

Chapter 14

Today’s Modern Woman should strive to gain a level of sexual expertise. The woman who is well-versed in the delights of the bedchamber can be confident that her lover will not lose interest and seek companionship elsewhere.

A Ladies’ Guide to the Pursuit of

Personal Happiness and Intimate Fulfillment

by Charles Brightmore

Andrew remained perfectly still, allowing his mind and body to absorb fully the stunning impact of her words and actions. Catherine standing before him, desire shimmering in her eyes, her hands splayed against his chest, her lush body leaning against his. The smoky timbre of her voice when she whispered that heart-stopping sentence. I want you to make love to me.

For as many times as he’d fantasized about her saying those words, nothing prepared him for the reality. His heart slapped so hard against his ribs, it wouldn’t have surprised him if she’d said, what on earth is that drumming sound?

Yet, beneath the layers of elation, desire, want, and need, flickered a single, tiny candle of discontent. Yes, he desperately wanted to make love to her, but he wanted a great deal more than that. Given her aversion to marriage, and her belief in the precepts put forth in A Ladies’ Guide, one of which encouraged “women of a certain age” not to remain celibate, she clearly only wanted an affair. If he refused her, would she turn to someone else? The mere thought of her asking another man to make love to her clenched his jaw.

Not that he had any intention of refusing her.

She shifted against him, and his entire body tightened. Yes, he wanted much more from her, but for now, this was enough.

Uncertainty flickered in her eyes, and he realized that he’d remained silent too long. That she thought his silence meant he planned to refuse her. Words and feelings he’d suppressed for what felt like an eternity welled up, clogging his throat, rendering him unable to speak. But it mattered not as he was incapable of forming a coherent sentence. Only one word echoed through his mind, a mantra of all he wanted. All he’d ever wanted from the moment he’d laid eyes on her. Catherine. Catherine. Catherine.

She clearly read the inferno of desire he knew burned in his gaze because the uncertainty vanished from her eyes, and her lips parted. Wrapping one arm around her waist, he drew her fully against him while he ran his other hand up her back until his fingers sifted into her soft, upswept hair. He lowered his head as she rose up on her toes.

The instant their lips met, he was lost. In the sweet seductive taste of her. In the incredible feel of her pressing against him. In the delicate floral scent of her. The delicious friction of her tongue rubbing against his. The erotic sound of her moan of pleasure.

Needs and wants that had gone unanswered, unfulfilled for so long, clawed him like sharp talons. Spreading his legs, he gathered her closer, pressing her into the V between his thighs. His erection strained against his tight breeches, and he cursed the barrier of the clothing between them. Another low moan rumbled in her throat, and she rubbed herself against him, stripping away another layer of his rapidly vanishing control.

While his lips and tongue explored all the velvety delights of her mouth, one of his hands came forward to palm her breast while his other hand slid down her back to cup her rounded bottom. She gasped, and her head fell limply back, presenting him with the delicate, vulnerable curve of her neck, a delicacy he instantly took advantage of.

Catherine strained closer, thrilling to the feel of his hard, aroused body. Closing her eyes, she clutched his broad shoulders in an effort to remain upright against the storm of sensations battering her. His lips and tongue blazed a trail of fire down her neck, fanning the flames already burning her. One strong hand kneaded her breast through the material of her gown, tightening her nipple and shooting shards of sharp want down to her womb, while his other hand massaged her buttocks with a slow, hypnotic motion that forced a long, need-filled moan from her throat. The feminine flesh between her legs felt swollen and heavy and moist, and a mounting desperation edged through her.

He lifted his head, and a groan of protest vibrated in her throat.

“Not here,” he whispered, his breathing as ragged as hers. “Not like this.”

Her heart tripped over itself at the naked hunger in his eyes. At the waves of desire all but emanating from him. He looked as if he wanted to devour her, and everything feminine in her thrilled at the thought.

“You deserve more than a quick grope against a tree, Catherine.”

God help her, but a quick grope against the tree- indeed anything to relieve the sweet ache imprisoning her-sounded like heaven. But he was right. This was not the place.

She was about to grasp his hand and lead him toward the gazebo, when he grasped her hand, and headed in that direction.

“Come with me,” he said, his voice an aroused growl. She fell into step beside him, excitement and anticipation coursing through her. “Where are we going?”

“The gazebo. It’s closer than the house. And more private.”

“How do you know about the gazebo?”

“I came across it while riding Aphrodite.”

She was glad the darkness cloaked the satisfied grin curving her lips. Not only would they end up at the gazebo, but he would think it had been his own clever idea. Wouldn’t he be pleased to discover when they arrived that the enclosed structure wasn’t completely empty-it contained the supplies she’d smuggled out of the house and left there earlier this afternoon. She’d longed to bring more, to turn the space into a cozy haven, but hadn’t dared risk anyone discovering her leaving the house carrying more than a basket. That would have led to questions she did not want to answer. After all, she could not very well say that she was preparing the gazebo for a tryst. And while the setting was admittedly rustic, according to A Ladies’ Guide she’d have all she needed for a memorable night-a cozy quilt, a bottle of wine, a wedge of cheese, and… herself and Andrew.

They rounded a corner in the path, and the gazebo came into view. Nestled in a small clearing, the octagonal structure with its domed roof gleamed white in the moonlight, the aged, peeling paint not discernible from a distance. She’d always wanted to refurbish the gazebo, but somehow hadn’t found the time.

Andrew’s footsteps slowed as they approached the structure, and she gave thanks for the sturdy wooden shutters that covered the floor-to-ceiling French windows comprising the gazebo’s walls, as they would provide an intimate cocoon of privacy for them.

A cloud obscured the moon, and Catherine looked down, concentrating on her feet so as not to trip over a branch or stone. Andrew’s hand tightened on hers, a wordless promise that he wouldn’t allow her to fall.

When they reached the door, he turned the brass knob and slowly pushed the heavy oak panel inward. “The door squeaks horribly…”she began, but her words trailed off into nothingness. The door did not squeak at all as it opened wider to reveal the inside of the gazebo.

Catherine gasped, and, clasping her hands to her chest, gaped in wonder. The cozy interior was gently illuminated with the flickering light from a half dozen hurricane lamps set in a wide semicircle around the perimeter of the floor. She inhaled, breathing in the delicate scent of flowers, and saw that a blanket of rose petals was strewn across the wood floor, lending beauty and fragrance to the small room.

The coverlet she’d smuggled from the house was arranged in the center of the otherwise bare room. Two enormous pillows, one maroon, the other dark blue, rested on one end of the cover. Off to the side sat a silver tray holding a bottle of wine, two goblets, a bowl of strawberries, and the wedge of cheese she’d pilfered from the kitchen.

As if in a trance, she entered the room and turned in a slow circle. A soft click echoed behind her, which she recognized as the door closing. Then she heard Andrew step up behind her. Strong arms encircled her waist from behind, gently hugging him to her. She laid her hands on top of his and drank in the seductive feel of him surrounding her, enthralled and touched by the romantic hideaway he’d created.

“When did you do this?” she asked in a hushed voice, afraid to speak too loudly lest she break the magical atmosphere.

“Just before dinner.” His lips brushed her temple as he spoke, his warm breath gliding over her ear, shivering a delighted tingle down her spine. “I was very surprised- and pleased-to find the basket of items you’d obviously left. Are you pleased?”

Her eyes slid closed and she breathed out a lengthy, feminine sigh. Then she turned in his arms and cradled his smoothly shaven cheeks between her palms.

“You went to a great deal of time, effort, and expense to plant my favorite flowers, and to create a private, romantic place for us. Yes, Andrew. I am pleased. And touched. And flattered. I started out this evening hoping to seduce you, yet here I find myself thoroughly seduced.”

“I started out this evening hoping to court you, yet here I find myself thoroughly seduced.”

Heat rippled down to her toes. “We started out with different objectives, yet here we are, with the same results. Although I wonder how that can be as I’ve yet to try to seduce you.”

He turned his head and pressed a heated kiss against her palm. “If that is so, then God help me should you put a bit of effort into it. But fear not. You’ve thoroughly succeeded without expending any effort.”

“Indeed? How? What have I done?” Lord knows she wanted to know so that she could do it again.

With his gaze steady on hers, he clasped her hand, pressed another kiss against her palm, then touched his tongue to the spot. Her breath caught, and her eyes widened.

“That,”he whispered. “The way you respond to my touch. The way you breathe in, and the heat that flares in your eyes. Very seductive. And this…”He drew her into his arms then leaned forward and flicked his tongue over her earlobe. A shudder ran through her. “… the way you tremble when you find something pleasurable. And this…”His lips skimmed across her jaw, before his mouth settled on hers for a soft, teasing kiss that had her lifting her face for more. “… the way your mouth feels against mine. The way you want more, just as I do.”

He reached up and slowly pulled the pins from her hair. “The way your hair feels sifting through my fingers.” Catherine felt her hair fall loose from its chignon and tumble down her back and over her shoulders. After gathering a handful of long, loose curls in his hand, he buried his face in the strands. “The scent of flowers that clings to your hair and skin. Ah, yes, then there is your skin…”

He brushed her hair over her shoulder, then trailed his fingertips slowly down her neck. “The pale perfection. The velvet texture. The alluring fragrance… that teasing hint of floral that makes me want to remain no more than an inch away from you so as not to draw a single breath that isn’t scented with you.” He lowered his head and brushed his mouth over the sensitive juncture where her neck and shoulder met. “Pure seduction.”

Her fingers clenched against his jacket, and a low rumble of pleasure trembled in her throat. “That sound you make when you’re aroused,” he said, his words vibrating against her skin, “is one of the most seductive things I’ve ever heard.”

“One of?” she asked in a breathless voice she barely recognized. “What is the most seductive thing you’ve ever heard?”

He lifted his head and stared directly into her eyes. “Your voice. Asking me to make love to you.”

Warmth filled her cheeks. “I’d never said those words before.”

“Just one more of the countless ways you seduce me, Catherine. You know how I like being first.”

“Then you’d best prepare yourself, because I’ve a feeling I’m going to experience many more firsts tonight.”

“As will I.”

Her eyes widened slightly. “You mean you’ve never-?”

“No, I’m not saying I’ve never been with a woman, although it has been… a while. But I’ve never been with anyone I wanted this much. Or anyone whom I wanted to please more. Or anyone who pleased me so very much.”

Catherine swallowed, certain that her hold on his shoulders was the only thing keeping her from slithering to the floor in a quivering heap. “I hope I please you, Andrew. I want to, but-”

He silenced her by touching his fingers to her lips. “You will, Catherine. Don’t doubt it for even a second.”

His expression made it clear he believed it, but a spate of self-doubt and insecurity suddenly assailed her, and before she could stop herself, she blurted out the painful truth. “I’m afraid I cannot help it. My husband found me… less than enthralling. He never touched me after Spencer was born. In spite of the fact that I was married for a decade and bore a child, I fear I’m woefully inexperienced.” Her gaze searched his. “How can you be so sure I’ll please you?”

“As I’ve told you, there are just some things that we know, Catherine. You and I are going to make beautiful love together. As for your inexperience…”He took one step back, then spread his arms. “Practice all you wish. Consider me at your disposal.”

Catherine’s heart pounded at the husky-voiced invitation, so ripe with sensual possibilities.

“Don’t be shy,” he said softly. “Or embarrassed. It’s just us, Catherine. The only other person in this room besides you is a man who wants nothing more than to grant your every wish and to please you. Tell me how to do that. Tell me what you want.”

Words from A Ladies’ Guide popped into her mind. Should Today’s Modern Woman ever be fortunate enough to be asked “What do you want?” hopefully she will answer truthfully.

She licked her lips, then allowed her gaze to wander slowly down, then up his long, muscular length. When their eyes again met, she spoke the simple truth. “You make me want so many things, I’m not certain where to begin.”

“Why don’t I start by removing my jacket?”

She watched him shrug the dark blue material from his shoulders, and suddenly she knew exactly where to begin. Stepping forward, she grasped his cuff. “I want to do it.”

He stood immobile, watching her, and for the first time in her life, Catherine removed an article of clothing from a man. The simple act of slowly slipping the jacket down his arms intoxicated her. When she finished, she held the garment, still warm from his body, against her chest. Her eyes slid closed, and she bent her head to breathe him in. “You smell delicious,” she murmured on a sigh. “Sandalwood mixed with something else I can’t name. But it’s a clean, masculine scent that belongs to you alone.”

Andrew stood perfectly still, spellbound by her words and the sight of her cradling his jacket against her. God knows he’d never been more sincere than when he told her he wanted only to please her, but he didn’t have a bloody prayer of surviving the rest of the night if she brought him to his knees just by holding his damn jacket.

Her curious gaze traveled again down his body, and he had to clench his hands to keep from reaching for her. “You worry about your ability to please me,” he said in a tight voice, “yet you can seduce me with a single look.”

Her gaze jumped back up to meet his, and he clearly read the flare of confidence that lit her eyes. After carefully setting his jacket on the floor beside her, she brushed her fingertips over his loosely knotted cravat. “I want to undress you,” she whispered.

He swallowed and attempted a half smile, but wasn’t at all certain he succeeded. “I’m all yours.”

“I’m not certain how all these garments work.”

Giving in to the overwhelming need to touch her, he traced his fingertip over her cheekbone. “Not to worry. I’ll help you.”

She applied herself to his cravat, and he stood in an agony of want, warring between his body’s need simply to shove aside their clothing and make fierce love to her now, and watching, feeling the stunning miracle of her removing his clothes. The blooming confidence and wonder in her eyes as she dispensed with his cravat, then slowly unfastened his shirt. When she reached his waist, he pulled his shirt free of the confines of his breeches, then held his breath.

She slowly separated the linen, then placed her hands on his chest. Heat arrowed through him, and he pulled in a quick breath. An expression of utterly feminine delight crossed her features, and she slowly dragged her hands downward. He wanted to watch her, but his eyes slid closed of their own volition, and a growl of pure pleasure escaped him as he memorized the intense sensation of her touching him.

“Do you like that?” she whispered, her fingertips grazing his nipples.

“God, yes.”

Her hands slipped down over his abdomen, and his muscles contracted. “You like that as well?”

“Yes.”The word was a raw rasp. He forced his eyes open to watch her, her hands growing bolder with each pass over his skin. Everywhere she touched felt as if she’d scorched him. Need roared through him, and his erection jerked inside his tight breeches. After gliding her hands back up his chest, she pushed his shirt off his shoulders and down his arms. He pulled his hands free and dropped the garment to the floor.

She ran her hands over his bare shoulders, then down his back, and he gritted his teeth against the pleasure. “You’re very strong,” she said, her warm breath caressing his chest.

A shudder shook him. He felt anything but strong. His insides were shaking, and his knees were… gone.

She slid her arms around his waist, then stepped forward to rest her head against his chest. “Your heart is beating almost as fast as mine, Andrew.”

Before he could reply, she looked up at him with solemn eyes. “I want you to undress me.”

Since he wanted that more than he wanted to draw his next breath, he didn’t hesitate. “Turn around.”

Standing behind her, he combed his fingers through her long, lustrous chestnut locks, brushing the strands over her shoulder to expose her pale nape. Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to that soft, fragrant bit of skin that had haunted a thousand dreams and countless waking moments. A delicate shiver trembled through her, and she tilted her head to the side, an invitation he didn’t even attempt to resist.

After brushing a lingering kiss to her sweet nape, he stepped back and set to work on freeing the buttons down her back. As each ivory round was freed from its loop, he was rewarded with a tantalizing peek at the thin chemise beneath. When he finally finished, he moved to stand in front of her. Her color was high, and desire shimmered from her golden brown eyes. Reaching out, he slowly pushed the garment over her shoulders. It slipped down her arms, then over her hips to land with a soft shush at her feet.

His avid gaze raked over her, so achingly beautiful, clad in a chemise so sheer he could see her dusky nipples through the material. Hooking his fingers under the cream-colored straps, he inched the garment down, tracking its progress as each delectable inch of her skin was revealed. When he released the straps, the chemise pooled at her feet on top of her gown.

For several seconds he stood immobile and simply drank in the sight of her, standing gracefully in the center of her discarded clothing like a single rose in full bloom rising from a priceless vase. His gaze lingered over generous, plump breasts topped with coral-hued nipples that tightened under his regard. The curve of her waist gave way to rounded hips and shapely thighs, hugging the triangle of chestnut curls nestled between her legs. Now clad in only her stockings and shoes, she robbed him of the control he’d fought so hard to keep in check. His every muscle tensed with needs that he could deny no longer. She looked ripe, luscious, and utterly delectable, and God help him, he was starving.

He extended his hand and helped her step from the yards of material surrounding her. The instant she was free, he bent his knees, scooped her into his arms, and carried her to the velvet coverlet, made softer by the bed of fresh hay he’d spread beneath it. He gently laid her down, cushioning her head on the blue pillow. After slipping off her shoes and stockings and setting them aside, he rose to remove his low, soft leather boots and breeches.

Catherine rolled onto her side, propped her head on her palm, and watched the proceedings with rapt attention. When he freed his erection from the strangulating confines of his snug breeches, he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Oh, my,” she breathed, rising to her knees, her avid gaze arousing him further.

He tossed his clothing haphazardly onto the pile, then knelt on the quilt in front of her. Framing her face between his hands, he lowered his head and brushed his lips over hers. “Catherine…”

Everything he felt, all the love and desire burning in him, all the battles he’d waged to contain those feelings for so long were voiced in that single, heartfelt word. And the instant his lips touched hers, those battles were lost.

With a groan that bordered on pain, he pulled her against him. Each new sensation barely had time to blink in his mind before it was supplanted with another. Her body pressed against his from chest to knee. Soft breasts, aroused nipples, crushed against his chest. Her hands rippling through his hair. His palms skimming down her back to cup her buttocks, Catherine returning the favor. The weight of her breast filling his hand. Bending his head to lave her nipple with his tongue, then draw the aroused bud into his mouth. Absorbing her guttural groan of his name. Another deep, soul-searching kiss. Soft skin beneath his hands. Sleek, moist feminine flesh between her thighs, swollen with want.

She glided her fingers down the length of his erection, and he broke off their kiss to suck in a harsh breath.

“Did I hurt you?”

Unable to speak, he shook his head.

“I want to touch you, Andrew.”

Gritting his teeth, he rested his forehead against hers and withstood the sweet torture of her fingers stroking him for as long as he could. But when she wrapped her fingers around his erection and gently squeezed, he grasped her wrist. His lips captured hers in a hard, passionate kiss, a frantic melding of lips and tongues. Without breaking their kiss, he lowered her onto her back on the quilt, then covered her body with his own. She spread her legs and groaned, and he bent his head to touch his tongue to the pleasure-filled sound vibrating at the base of her throat.

Propping his weight on his palms, he watched her in the flickering golden light while he slowly entered her body. A tumble of wild chestnut curls, in disarray from his exploring hands, surrounded her head. Her lips were red and moist and slightly parted, while her chest rose and fell with her rapid, shallow breaths. Her dusky nipples were damp and erect from his mouth. But it was the stark need, the acute want in her eyes that undid him.

He slowly thrust into her warm, wet velvet heat, and squeezed his eyes shut against the fierce pleasure. He wanted to go slowly, make this last, but his body, so long denied, was beyond his control. His strokes lengthened, quickened. Deeper. Harder. She met his every thrust, urging him on, her fingers digging into his shoulders. She tensed beneath him, surging her hips upward while exhaling a long, ooohh of pleasure. Helpless to contain his release any longer, he buried his face in the fragrant crook of her shoulder and throbbed inside her wet heat for an endless, miraculous moment that left him breathless, weak, utterly contented, and, damn near dead.

Catherine lay beneath Andrew’s delicious weight- breathless, weak, utterly contented, and more alive than she’d ever felt in her entire life.

This was what all the fuss was about. This was what she’d been missing her entire marriage. This was the splendid wonder described in A Ladies’ Guide, although nothing in the book’s vivid commentary and instructions had sufficiently prepared her for such an incredible, intimate experience.

With her eyes closed, she took a moment to savor the aftermath, not wanting the stunning pleasure to end. Andrew’s ragged breaths beating against her ear. His body covering hers, heated skin to heated skin. His arms still wrapped tightly around her, as if he never wanted to let her go. Her arms encircling his broad shoulders, also reluctant to release. His heartbeat pounding against her breasts. And the dazzling sensation of his body still intimately joined with hers. No, she had not known that it would be like this.

Or that he would quickly become quite so heavy.

Not that she didn’t relish the feel of him on top of her, but the need to draw a deep breath was about to overtake the pleasure of him covering her like a human blanket.

Whether he sensed her need or simply possessed good timing she didn’t know, but just then he stirred. After brushing a kiss against her cheek, he shifted to prop his weight on his forearms and looked down at her, his eyes dark and intense, his breathing still not quite steady. His midnight hair, mussed from her frantic fingers, spilled over his forehead. Reaching up, she brushed the strands aside, only to have them tumble out of place again.

“You look rather disheveled,” she said, with a smile.

“As do you. Delightfully so.” He lowered his head and kissed her. A slow, deep, intimate kiss that conveyed better than any words could have that he’d found their love-making as satisfying as she. A kiss that rekindled the flame he’d extinguished only moments ago.

“I’m going to want to do all that again,” she whispered against his lips, trailing her fingers lightly down his spine.

“I don’t know when I’ve heard better news. But I’m afraid I’ll need a few minutes to recover first.” Dropping a quick kiss onto her mouth, he eased from her body, then rolled onto his back, bringing her along.

Sprawled across his chest, Catherine watched him stuff one of the pillows beneath his head. After loosely wrapping his arms around her, his eyelids drooped.

Her brows shot upward. “Don’t tell me you’re tired!”

He chuckled. “All right. I won’t tell you that.”

“But you are!” Her voice was ripe with accusation. “How can that be? I’ve never felt more energetic in my entire life.” She tickled her fingers down his abdomen. “I can hardly stay still.”

“A fact that will greatly reduce my recovery time, I assure you.”

“So you’re not feeling wonderful?”

“I feel incredibly wonderful. But in a ‘wrung-out sponge’ manner, as opposed to your ‘filled with vigor’ manner.”

“Humph. Wrung-out sponge does not sound very… encouraging.”

A deep chuckle rumbled in his throat. “Actually, I meant it as a compliment to you.”

“Indeed? I think it is time for me to fetch a dictionary so you can look up compliment. I’m certain that ‘wrung-out sponge’ is not given as an example.”

“My darling Catherine, I am wrung out because you satisfied me so completely. So absolutely.” His hands skimmed down her back. “As I’ve never been satisfied before.”

My darling Catherine. Heavens, that sounded… lovely. Especially in that husky growl his voice had become. “Well, I can certainly say the same thing to you. In fact, I’m anxious to tell you about all the firsts I’ve experienced since I entered the gazebo. Would you like to hear about the things I’ve discovered?”

“I’d be delighted.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you certain you won’t doze off? You look suspiciously sleepy.”

He dipped his chin and looked down at her with a sinful smile. “I’m not sleepy. I’m sated. I assure you that you have my full attention.”

“Very well. I’ve never undressed a man before.” She traced a series of light circles on his bare chest. “I’ve never seen a naked man before.”

One dark brow shot upward. “Never?”

She shook her head, her chin bumping against his chest. Then she sat up and skimmed her gaze down his length. “Although I have nothing to compare you to, I think you are most likely a very well made specimen.”

One corner of his lovely mouth lifted. “Thank you.”

“I very much like the way your skin feels. Warm and firm.” Unable to stop touching him, she rested her hand against his shoulder, then slowly dragged her palm down the center of his chest. “I’ve never seen, or touched hair on a man’s chest. It’s a bit coarse, but soft at the same time. And your muscles… an enthralling delight. So strong, under all that warm, firm skin.” She skimmed a single fingertip slowly downward. “This ribbon of dark hair is absolutely fascinating. The way it starts at your chest, then continues downward, bisecting these lovely ripples on your stomach, then spreads again to cradle…”Her voice drifted off as her gaze riveted on his manhood. “… this part of you that so captivates me, that brought me such incredible sensations. Even at rest you are impressive.” She lightly circled the tip of him with her index finger. “I’ve never touched a man like this before,” she whispered.

He swallowed, then levered himself up onto his side, propping his weight on his forearm. His dark eyes regarded her with an unreadable expression. Reaching out, he cradled her face in his palm and brushed the pad of his thumb over her cheek. “I’m sorry your marriage was not a happy one, Catherine.”

To her mortification, hot tears pushed behind her eyes. “I realized very quickly that with Bertrand I’d been denied the satisfaction that can come from an emotional bond, but until tonight, I hadn’t realized what I’d missed from the physical part our union. I conceived in the first weeks of my marriage, and once my condition was confirmed, Bertrand did not approach me. And once Spencer was born… Bertrand never touched me again. I could count the number of times he visited my bedchamber, and none of those visits in any way resembled what you and I shared this evening. Being with Bertrand was perfunctory. Dry. Uninspiring. Hasty, cursory actions under the cover of darkness. Disappointing and frustrating in ways I didn’t understand.” She turned her head and pressed a kiss in his callused palm. “Being with you was… miraculous. Exciting. Enthralling. And very much not dry. A first in every conceivable way.”

She drew a deep breath, considering her next words for several seconds before continuing. “Bertrand had lovers, you know. Several that I know about, and I’m certain many others of whom I’m not aware. I must admit that I considered such an arrangement myself on more than one occasion, when the loneliness became unbearable. When I needed to touch another person. Longed to smile at someone other than my son. Craved adult companionship.”

“But you didn’t take a lover?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

She shrugged. “In spite of my husband’s behavior, my conscience balked at the thought of breaking my marriage vows; although, if I am to be perfectly honest, my fidelity had more to do with remaining true to my own values than it did with loyalty to my husband.”

“Which does not diminish your character in any way, Catherine.”

“Perhaps not, but my other reasons are not quite so noble. Basically, I was afraid. I did not want to risk becoming fodder for the village gossips, and an affair in a village the size of Little Longstone would be all but impossible to conceal. I feared not only for my own reputation, but Spencer’s as well.”

“Caution is not an ignoble virtue, Catherine.”

“I agree. Yet you can see what happened to all my caution. It was not difficult to maintain while untested. But I’d never met anyone whom I wished to take as a lover. Until now.”

His eyes darkened, and a shiver of delight ran through her. Catherine’s eyes slid closed, and for several heartbeats she relived the wonder of their joining. Exhaling a long, slow breath, she whispered dreamily, “Nothing we’d talked about had prepared me. When I wrote the Guide I didn’t-”

Her words chopped off at her slip, and her eyes popped open. For one horrified second she couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Heat rushed into her face, and her insides cramped. Then she forced out a laugh, one she prayed did not sound as nervous to him as it did to her. “Read,” she said, willing away the blush scorching her cheeks. “I meant when I read the Guide, I thought that I knew what to expect. But I was wrong.”

She forced her lips into a calm smile, but she knew her face still flamed red. Had his gaze turned suddenly watchful? Speculative? No, no surely she was just imagining it. She’d made a silly slip of the tongue. People made such errors all the time. All she needed to do was change the subject. And cease blushing.

Before she could speak, however, he said, “I’m certain you’ve considered that our liaison could conceive a child.”

Relieved that he clearly had not attached any significance to her verbal blunder, she said, “Yes. You need not fear that. I have taken steps to ensure that I do not conceive.”

“I see. And you are aware that you still run the risk of someone discovering that we are lovers.”

“Of course, but surely you agree that it is greatly minimized by the fact that you reside in London and will be returning to your home in a week’s time.”

“In other words, you do not fear discovery as this is only a temporary arrangement.”

“Yes.”For reasons she refused to examine, that single word tasted most unappetizing.

Silence stretched between them, and she realized she was holding her breath. Finally, he nodded, an obvious sign of his agreement, and for some inexplicable reason, she felt let down that he didn’t argue with her. Suggest that they somehow find a way to continue their liaison beyond his weeklong visit. They couldn’t, wouldn’t, of course, but still…

Her thoughts drifted off when he sifted his fingers through her hair, eliciting a head-to-toe tingle that drove everything from her mind. “Your hair,” he said softly, “your skin, they are so amazingly soft.” His hand drifted over her shoulder, then down her arm. “Never in my life have I touched anything so smooth. So silky.” His eyes met hers, and she stilled at the seriousness of his gaze. “I have a confession to make, Catherine.”

Her heart performed a flip at his grave tone. Did he want their affair to continue beyond his visit? “I’m listening.”

“I never thought I’d have the opportunity to touch you, and now that I do…”He cupped her breast and a wicked gleam kindled in his eyes. “Now that I do, I must confess, I cannot stop.”

Her breath caught as he teased her nipple into an aching point. Splaying her hand on his thigh, she leaned forward until only a hairbreadth separated their lips.

“My darling Andrew, I don’t know when I’ve heard better news.”

Staring into the low-burning flames crackling in the grate, a slow smile curved the lone figure’s lips upward. The plans were in place. All was in readiness…

The ticking of the mantel clock served as an irritating reminder of the passage of time. But I shall remain patient. My quarry is in sight. I know who you are. Soon, very soon, all the wrongs will be righted.