“So what think you, sweeting? Does it meet your expectations?”
She nodded honestly. “I find it quite impressive. Indeed, I am astonished.”
“Astonished that I could be creative? I do possess a few modest talents. Depraved libertines are allowed them, you know.”
“Your ability doesn’t surprise me. Just that you would put your mind and talents to such good use. Most noblemen of means have a decided lack of interest in productive accomplishments.”
He smiled gently. “Then I hope I may prove to be different from the noblemen of your acquaintance.”
He showed her an oak cabinet that held towels and blankets and dressing gowns. Then he set the lamp on a bench.
“Would you care to test the water? It is warm and quite pleasant.”
“Now?”
He gave her one of his soul-stopping smiles. “Now is an ideal time. And if you enjoy the waters, you will be in a better position to persuade my sister to make use of them.”
She couldn’t look away from his heated gaze. He was bold, shameless, compelling-and she was falling hopelessly under his spell.
Damien sat on the bench to remove his shoes and stockings and rolled up the hems of his evening breeches above the knee. When he stood, Vanessa’s eyes widened.
“Never fear, I am not undressing entirely.” His tone was light, enchantingly playful; his eyes beguiled.
Moving to the bath, he sat on the ledge and swung his legs around to immerse them in the pool, before sighing with pleasure. “Will you come and join me?”
When she hesitated, he lowered his voice to a husky murmur, as seductive as sin itself. “Take off your slippers and stockings, Vanessa. Dare to live dangerously. It is not so very wicked to go barefoot, after all.”
Vanessa felt her willpower faltering, yet she remained immobile.
His voice dropped to a caress. “Indulge me, angel-eyes, if you won’t indulge yourself.”
When still she wouldn’t respond to his persuasion, Damien shook his head sadly. “Do you know what your trouble is? You are too repressed. You refuse to let out the passionate woman inside you.”
She winced as he struck a sensitive nerve. Roger had frequently accused her of being devoid of passion, and it hurt to have this man make a similar accusation, even in jest. It hurt more to know how Damien would react when he realized she was, in truth, cold and passionless. He wouldn’t want her in his bed then.
Her chin lifted defiantly. She didn’t want him to want her. And she had given him fair warning more than once that she would make a poor choice of mistress.
Although realizing she was allowing herself to be brazenly manipulated, she did as Damien asked, removing her shoes and stockings and joining him on the ledge. He had clearly known how she would react to his prodding, for she saw the satisfaction in his devilish eyes as she sat beside him. Feeling wicked all the same, she raised her skirts a few inches and let her bare feet dangle in the water, which was deliciously warm and soothing.
He slanted her an amused glance. “You really must learn to trust me.”
“I would more readily trust a wolf.”
In mock dismay, he clasped a hand to his breast. “Ah, fair witch, you wound my decadent soul.”
“Perhaps you should ask Dr. Underhill to bandage it for you.”
Damien laughed, a low, husky sound. “I cannot fathom why you are so skittish around me. I’ve never made any truly serious attempt on your virtue.”
“No? You could have fooled me.”
“I have kissed you but once, and that was before I knew you.”
“I would not say that you know me now.”
“Ah, but I do. I’ve learned a great deal about you in the past weeks. You are kind and generous. Spirited and clever-with a rapier wit I am hard-pressed to defend myself against. And you are afraid of men.” His blithe tone had suddenly acquired a serious edge.
Vanessa bit her lip but remained silent. Why ever had she been foolish enough to divulge her secrets to him?
“You shouldn’t allow one wretched experience to mark you for life, you know.”
She looked down at her hands. She didn’t want to fear men, to dread an intimate touch. She didn’t want to be burdened by her past, by the dark memories of her marriage. But there was little hope of banishing her ugly memories.
Damien seemed to read her thoughts, for his voice dropped to a mere murmur. “I intend to make it my chief aim to help you conquer your fear.”
It made her angry to hear him suggest his pursuit of her was for her benefit. “Surely you don’t expect me to believe your interest in me is altruistic? I am not that green, I trust.”
“No. I admit, I hope to benefit as well. A beautiful woman sharing my bed is reward enough.”
She could feel him studying her, and it prompted her to ask a question that had often preyed on her mind. “I… have wondered why you haven’t required me to fulfill our agreement. Is it just to torment me, to draw out your revenge?”
“No. Of course not.” He sounded surprised.
“Then why?”
“You aren’t yet ready.”
She gazed up at him, disbelieving his answer. “How do you know?”
“Experience. Masculine intuition. The most obvious sign is your aversion to being touched.”
He raised a finger to her cheek to stroke gently. “Ah, progress. You didn’t flinch from me this time. It leads me to hope that someday I’ll hear you whispering words of sweet surrender.” His expression was warm, gentle, as his thumb traced her lower lip. “I warn you, nothing short of your complete surrender will do.”
His thumb dipped to brush the inner corner of her mouth in a blatantly sexual gesture. Vanessa’s breath caught in her throat, while a spark of fresh anger kindled inside her. For weeks now Damien had played his nerve-shredding game of cat and mouse with her, and it had reached the point of cruelty.
“If you brought me here to seduce me,” she muttered, regarding him with a baleful glare, “I wish you would hurry up and be done with it.”
He went still. “I brought you here to show you the bath,” he replied levelly. “If I intended to seduce you-” He bent his head. “-I would move closer… like this.”
His warm breath touched her cheek. Vanessa froze, waiting for the warm brush of his lips. Yet he didn’t attempt to kiss her. Instead he drew a ringer along the delicate line of her collarbone. “You really are utterly enchanting, you know.”
The heat in his voice passed through her skin, making Vanessa shiver with a keen awareness. Damien Sinclair was a dangerous devil who possessed the power to bewitch her.
His hand wandered with tantalizing slowness, leaving a fiery trail after its passing, driving her anger away. Vanessa shut her eyes, fighting the relentless urges he stirred in her, wondering how she could resist this man whose raw virility gave him sensual power over any woman he wanted.
A moment later she felt him move. To her surprise he had slipped easily from the ledge into the pool. The level was not deep, reaching just above the knees, but the water swirled around his thighs, calling attention to the swelling at the groin of his breeches. He was boldly, unmistakably aroused, Vanessa realized.
When he noted the direction of her gaze, his mouth curved wryly. “As you see, your attractions fascinate me.”
Disconcerted by his boldness, she glanced away, but he would have none of her modesty. With a languid finger beneath her chin, he made her lift her gaze.
She went still, riveted by his tender expression. His scrutiny brushed over her with an intimacy as physical as a stolen kiss.
“Will you not trust me, angel?”
She wet her lips, staring at him. She was certain he could see the thickly beating pulse in her throat.
“Let me kiss you. I promise I will stop whenever you wish.”
Mutely, Vanessa gazed up at him, desperately trying to ignore the temptation of his beautiful mouth, yet it was impossible. She wanted his kiss, his touch. It was foll
y to think she could escape his spell.
His hand was moving on her throat. His slow finger strokes vibrated through her, thrumming softly at her senses. She felt her resistance weaken at the enticing wickedness of his expert caress. Yet it was his gaze that held her captive. Behind the soft seduction of those warm eyes was a promise of gentleness, of passion beyond anything she could imagine.
“Sweet siren, let me…”
His dark lashes lowered. His head was bending, his beautiful mouth descending toward hers.
She sighed at the first taste of his mouth. His lips were warm and vibrant and oh so magical.
The last of her resistance fled as his palms framed her face. His tongue slid delicately into her mouth, meeting hers. At the hot sensation he aroused, she softened against him helplessly.
Responsively he deepened his kiss, smothering her with intimate tenderness and sensuality, drinking her in. It was a long, long moment before the kiss ended… but then it was only to move his lips hotly across her cheek to her ear. “You taste so sweet… like a rare wine.”
His deep, velvet voice reached out to touch her, feeding the wild recklessness that was building inside her.
Vanessa swallowed in an effort to slow her jagged breathing, yet there was a heavy ache between her thighs, a melting, heated yearning deep inside her that she was powerless to deny.
He must have known the effect he had on her, for he drew back slightly. “Surrender feels right, doesn’t it?” he whispered.
Yes, she wanted to say, but the words remained trapped in her throat.
He moved closer, bringing his body inch by inch against hers. His eyes held hers, hot and silvered, as he eased her legs open with his knee. Her breath shallowed. To her shock, Damien drew her into the water slowly, so that she rode his granite-hard thigh.
Her body remained taut and tense as his strong arm encircled her waist, pulling her in to the heat of him. Beneath her skirts, she could feel his rigid flesh pressing against her softness.
“Don’t be afraid to let yourself feel, Vanessa…”
His thigh moved against her feminine mound. A moan hovered in her throat at the erotic friction. He kept her held against his fully aroused body until bonelessly she let herself sway into him, giving in to the flare of pleasure, of desire.
Gently then, his hands swept lower to cradle the swell of her hips, and he began to rock her slowly, rhythmically, guiding her toward a dark, secret pleasure she had never in her life known before.
“Damien…”
“Hush… don’t fight it.” He began kissing her again, his tender, warm lips so incredibly beguiling.
A feverish sound escaped her throat. She was so hot. She felt weak, faint. The pleasured ache in her body was growing beyond her control. Her hips moved shamelessly, asking for something she couldn’t identify, while his lips and tongue sweetly plundered her mouth, exploring deeply.
Powerless to stop the riotous sensations he aroused in her, Vanessa strained against him, her breasts pressing against the solid wall of his chest. She needed desperately to assuage the fierce hunger that was burgeoning inside her, to satisfy her frantic craving for him.
Her heart thrumming in a wild rhythm, she gripped his arms fiercely, her fingers biting into Damien’s corded muscles as he urged her closer to the forbidding, throbbing pleasure he promised. She was writhing now, her passion at a fever pitch.
“That’s it, love… yield to it…”
The shattering, unexpected climax sent her reeling; surprise and panic captured her features as the tempest exploded in a firestorm of brilliantly colored sparks. Yet Damien only held her tighter as wave after wave of shuddering pleasure washed over her. She clung to him, shaking helplessly, surrendering to the wild assault on her senses.
With intense satisfaction Damien heard the soft cries of the irresistibly aroused woman in his arms. Each tremor burned through him with exquisite torture, reminding him of his months of celibacy, but he kept his own body rigid, fighting the painful throbbing of his erection as she crested in the sweet rage of need.
He could have taken Vanessa there and then, he reflected. She was hot… on fire for him. Her skin was feverish with erotic warmth, every flame-hot inch of her flesh ripe for the taking. And yet he hesitated-and he was not even sure why.
It baffled him that he should hold back now. It would be so simple to thrust himself between her soft thighs and ease his violent lust… And yet he felt more than lust for her. He wanted to cherish her, to claim her… but not this way… not this place. This was somehow wrong. He wanted her first time with him to be more than just a hasty physical coupling she would later regret.
With a soft oath, Damien gathered her close, holding her limp, trembling body as he struggled for control. She was as exquisitely sensual and responsive as he’d known she would be, and it took every ounce of willpower he possessed to fight the wrenching desire he felt for her, the tender, carnal need.
A long moment later, he drew back to survey her flushed face. She gazed up at him, startled, bewildered, her beautiful, soft doe eyes questioning.
His tone was husky and soft, yet edged with a touch of irony. “If I had meant to seduce you, sweetheart, I would have aroused you precisely like that.”
She stared up at him, her expression slightly dazed, bereft, and he cursed himself for a fool. She was trying to understand what had just happened to her, and he had made a jest of it, distancing himself from her when he should have soothed and consoled and praised.
His hard countenance softening, he smoothed an errant tendril from her cheek and fiercely reined in his hunger. “Forgive me, angel.”
“Forgive you?” she asked, her voice a shaky whisper.
“For making light of what must have been a first for you.”
“I never knew…”
“Knew what? That lovemaking could be so wildly pleasurable? That you could feel such sweet fire?”
“Yes…”
He smiled. “There is far more to passion than what you just experienced, if you will allow yourself to discover it. I would very much like to teach you, sweeting.” He bent his head, letting his hot breath caress her cheek. “I want to be the one to show you the mysteries of pleasure, Vanessa. The one to reveal all the sweet secrets between a man and a woman…”
He stopped himself. Exhaling softly, he set her gently away from him. “Perhaps I should return you to the house before my last vestige of control disappears.”
He helped her from the pool while Vanessa struggled with her own turmoil. She had virtually demanded that Damien seduce her, yet he had drawn back at the last moment.
Somehow that seemed more cruel than forcing himself on her would have been. Damien had left her unforgivably aroused, filled with an aching yearning, shaken by wonder and doubts and uncertainty.
Not speaking, she wrung out her dripping skirts and put on her stockings and slippers. It would be bad enough if she were seen with a wet gown in Lord Sin’s company, let alone barefoot.
She refused to look at him when he took her hand and the lamp and led her through the conservatory. They met no one on the return journey, by virtue of the fact that he escorted her back through the secret passage. They entered the house by way of a storage room off the rose garden, through a small door half hidden by tools.
The air inside the passage was musty but dry, yet Vanessa felt stifled. The space was so narrow it barely accommodated Damien’s shoulders, the ceiling so low he had to keep his head bent. When they had climbed a steep flight of wooden steps, Damien touched her elbow, requiring her to pause beside a sliding panel in the passage wall.
“Your bedchamber.” With a gesture of his head, he indicated the passage behind him. “This runs along the outer wall of the sitting room next to yours, beneath the window seats, and continues on to my chambers.”
Silently he opened the secret panel to her room, demonstrating how the catch worked by exerting the slightest pull.
When he turned to go, Vanessa felt
a keen sense of regret. “You don’t mean to stay?” she was startled into asking.
His mouth curved in a sweet, sad smile. “I don’t trust myself.” He pressed a finger to her lips. “I want you very, very much, angel. More than you can possibly imagine. But I am willing to wait until you want me as well. When you are ready, I will not have to come to you. You will come to me.”
He left her then, taking the light with him. Almost unwillingly Vanessa entered her bedchamber and slid the panel door shut behind her.
In the darkness of her room, she wandered about, restless and unsettled, her thoughts on Damien Sinclair. Try as she might, she couldn’t forget the sensation of his body against hers, or the enchanting taste of his kiss, or the fierce explosion of pleasure he had aroused in her.
For weeks she had fought against succumbing to his powerful masculinity, but tonight she had lost the battle. Shamefully, though, she felt no remorse.
Briefly Vanessa shut her eyes. The memory of Damien’s embrace filled her with a sweet, aching longing that was totally foreign to her. He had taken her someplace she’d never been before, someplace brilliant and terrifying. She had become a stranger to herself, to the frenzy of desire that had overwhelmed her. Damien had given her a glimpse of paradise, shown her how desperately a woman could want a man. How desperately she could want.
Vanessa shook her head and shivered. How could he be so gentle yet cause such a tumult of violent emotions within her? Such passion and desire and fierce, fierce need? He was unlike any man she had ever known, a fantasy lover who could draw the very soul from a woman’s body.
Trembling at the memory, Vanessa disrobed and put on her nightdress. Mechanically she hung up her damp gown and brushed out her hair. Then she lay down on the bed, though she knew sleep wouldn’t come. The restless longing she felt would not go away.
For a long while she stared up at the canopy overhead, her breasts keenly sensitive, a hollow ache between her thighs. In the darkness, an unbidden image of Damien flowed into her mind. His sensual, chiseled features. His heated silver eyes, warm with tenderness. His beautiful, breathtaking mouth. His vibrant encircling arms that promised such rapture.
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