Girl in the Beaded Mask

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Girl in the Beaded Mask Page 4

by Amanda McCabe


  Lulu gasped at this new and yet now wonderfully familiar sensation of delicious fullness. She arched her back to meet him fully, to be as close as she could. He drew back and plunged forward again, faster and faster, deeper, until she was sure their very souls touched.

  She closed her eyes tightly to feel every single touch, every movement of his body against hers. She had to remember this, to keep it with her always. His hands traced down her bare arms to take her hands in his, twisting their fingers together as if to bind her to him. But she was already with him, completely.

  She wrapped her legs around his hips as he thrust again, even deeper. She could feel that knot of pleasure unraveling inside her, expanding, flowing, until it filled every inch of her. Even her toes and fingertips tingled, and she thought she would burst into flames! Sparks exploded behind her closed eyes—red, white, green—and she cried out as her climax washed over her.

  “Lulu!” he called out as his body arched over hers. Then he collapsed beside her on the bed, one hand still tangled with hers as his shoulders heaved and he tried to catch his breath.

  She couldn’t breathe, either. Her whole self felt so deliciously weak, and she didn’t want to leave this very spot. She gently caressed the taut, damp line of his shoulder, his bare back.

  After a few silent, stunned moments, David reached out to turn back the sheets and helped her slide beneath them to keep the encroaching chill at bay. For an instant she was afraid he would leave her, but then he laid beside her in their soft cocoon of linen and velvet and took her into his arms.

  She wrapped her arms around his chest and felt his fingers move slowly, caressingly, through her hair. She could hear his breath, and the faint strains of dance music from the party. There had never been anywhere she wanted to be more than this, in David’s arms, safe and warm.

  But what would happen when the dawn came? Would this dream shatter like a beautiful, delicate bubble and be gone?

  She propped herself up on her elbow to look down at him, studying him in the moonlight. A faint smile curved his lips, and his eyes were closed. She thought he might be sleeping, but then suddenly his eyes opened and he looked back at her.

  “What are you thinking about, Lulu?” he said. “It must be something very important for you to have such a fierce frown on your pretty forehead.”

  “I was just wondering—why did you never come back to see us at Hatton Hall?” she said. “We’ve all missed you so much.”

  “Did you? I would have thought you never wanted to see me again.”

  “Of course not! Why would that be?”

  “Because I’m a reminder that I am here, and your brother is not. Because you shouldn’t have to look at my scars and remember what happened.”

  “What rubbish!” Lulu cried, throwing herself back down to lie beside him. “Mum and Dad would never blame you for what happened. In fact, Mum always says you were Bill’s only comfort in France, his only friend from home, and how much worse it all would have been if you weren’t there with him in the trenches. Didn’t you get her Christmas letters and all her invitations?”

  “Your mother is a saint,” David answered. “And I do hope I was some comfort to Bill in those nightmare days, as he was to me. But maybe there was something else I feared at Hatton Hall.”

  “Like what?”

  His arms closed around her again and he rose up above her to press her against the mattress. Lulu laughed in surprise.

  “I was afraid that I would lose control with you,” he said with a growl. “And I was right. Look what happened tonight.”

  “But I wanted you to lose control,” she said. She wound her arms around his neck and summoned up every bit of deep-down courage. “I love you, David. I’ve been in love with you for years and years, and I’ve missed you so much.”

  “Oh, Lulu.” There was surprise in his voice, and sadness, too. But there was also a hint of hope, and she clung to that. “You shouldn’t waste your time loving me.”

  “Why?” she demanded. “Because you don’t care about me?”

  “Because I care about you too much.” He bent his head and kissed her, a soft, gentle kiss that spoke of longing and sadness. “Because I think I’ve loved you for years, too. Once, when I was younger, I thought that when the time was right I could court you, but after the war… You deserve much better.”

  Joy flooded through Lulu at his words. He loved her! She was not alone in this crazy emotion. She had hope again. She tightened her arms around him, not letting him leave her.

  “There is no better,” she declared. “All those silly boys I met in London, they were nothing compared to you. I knew I could help you, that we could be happy together. Just give me a chance to show you, to prove it to you.”

  He smoothed her hair back from her brow and gently held her face between his hands. “I’m absolutely sure I would be happy with you. But my life is a quiet one, and I would never want to make you miserable for a moment. To see all that light go out in your eyes would kill me.”

  “I only want you and a life together,” she said. “I don’t want silly parties! I don’t want crowds. Only you, David.”

  He kissed her again, a wild, openmouthed kiss full of happiness and joy, a dream kiss. Lulu held on to him and kissed him back with everything she held in her heart, everything she hoped for. It was a kiss to end all kisses.

  Suddenly she heard an explosion, and for an instant she thought it was her heart, bursting with too much happiness. But then there was another bang, and another. She opened her eyes and turned to see fireworks bursting in the sky outside the window.

  It seemed like the perfect sign. Everything was different now; everything was going to be full of light from now on.

  “Look!” she cried. She climbed out of the bed, wrapping the sheet around her like a toga as she hurried to the window.

  She could see the shadows of the party-goers, clustered at the edge of the lake as fireworks shot high above the water. Plumes and comets of sparkling red and white arced across the black sky like beacons of victory, and Lulu clapped her hands in delight.

  She heard David follow her from the bed, and his arms slid around her to pull her back against him. She felt him press a kiss to the top of her head, and everything in that moment seemed perfect and right.

  “Isn’t it beautiful?” she sighed.

  “Absolutely beautiful,” he answered.

  And Lulu knew that from that moment on, no matter what happened, they would be together. That was surely the most beautiful thing of all.

  Enjoy more passion through the ages with the sensual Harlequin Historical UNDONE titles on sale now:

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  Interested in writing for Harlequin Historical UNDONE? Send your submission to [email protected].

  Amanda McCabe wrote her first romance novel at the age of sixteen in Algebra class, an epic starring all her friends as characters! That story will never be published (and she nearly failed Algebra), but now she’s the RITA-nominated, award-winning author of many other books and novellas. She lives in Oklahoma with two cats, a Pug, and a bossy miniature Poodle, and loves dance classes, collecting cheesy travel souvenirs, and watching the Food Network—even though she doesn’t cook. Visit her at www.ammandamccabe.com for Behind the Book information, contests, and upcoming releases, and at riskyregencies.blogspot.c
om.

  ISBN: 978-1-4592-0010-4

  Girl in the Beaded Mask

  Copyright © 2011 by Ammanda McCabe

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

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  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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