Mary Jo Putney (20 page)

His hand stroked down her body, kneading and caressing her waist and stomach before reaching the silky triangle of hair at the juncture of her thighs. Gervase raised his mouth to kiss her lips at the same time that his fingers delicately penetrated to her sensitive, hidden depths. Her legs tensed and her sharp inhalation was so convincing that he could almost believe she was as innocent as the maiden of her fantasy. Lost in his own role, he murmured, "Just relax. We will take as long as you need." Raising his hand to her knees, he caressed her silken inner thighs, slowing massaging his way lower until she opened to him.

He summoned all his skill to bring her to the final readiness, and when her body was hot and moist and her breath rough and urgent, he moved between her legs and slowly, gently entered. She had acted the virgin so convincingly that it was almost a surprise that no barrier blocked his passage.

Diana gasped and her muscles tightened around him with such fierce sweetness that it took all of Gervase's will not to culminate immediately. He held very still, his arms supporting him so that his weight wouldn't hurt her.

Remembering the roles they played helped him maintain his control. "Now I would give you a few minutes to get used to how it feels to have a man inside you," he said wryly, "and for me to calm down."

Diana shivered in delight and pressed her hips upward, rotating them to deepen the sensation. She had not known how empty she was until he filled her, and it was impossible to get enough of him.

He inhaled sharply. "And I would warn you not to do that unless you are impatient to be done."

She stilled, whispering, "Oh, no, not yet, I most certainly do not want this to end." Gervase's dark hair tumbled over his forehead and she could see a film of perspiration on his face and torso. She had never dreamed that his dark face could show such openness and intimacy. She raised a hand to caress his cheek, then skimmed her palm down the corded strength of his neck.

Even the touch of her hand inflamed him, and it took time to regain his control. Only when he was sure did he begin moving inside her, exploring her secret depths. Still careful to be gentle, he murmured, "Now I would tell you to move against me as we find a rhythm together."

She obeyed, and he started deepening his strokes, pushing harder and longer, his eyes searching to catch every nuance of feeling as it rippled across her face.

She moaned and her eyes closed, the better to savor the sensations consuming her. For all that Madeline had told her, Diana had never dreamed that pleasure could be so exquisite and tormenting. She drew him as deep into her as was humanly possible, her nails digging into his back as her thrusting hips took on an uncontrollable rhythm of their own.

It was unbearable and she pleaded incoherently, "Please, Gervase, please..." without knowing what she asked for. And then, just when she could endure no more, her body convulsed in a series of shuddering explosions. She cried out, her voice drowned in his as he plunged and erupted within her, their bodies joined in ultimate closeness.

They lay tangled in each other, the only sounds their deep, uneven breathing. Diana's arms were wrapped tight around his torso, unwilling to release him even now, and she could feel tears seeping from beneath her closed eyelids.

Gervase raised his head from the pillow as he eased his weight from her. As he did, she felt him brush the tears from her cheek. "Did I hurt you?"

She opened her eyes to smile reassuringly at him. "No, not at all. It was just that was so... so wonderful. I cry at everything that makes me feel deeply, whether I'm happy or sad."

He relaxed and rolled onto his side, holding her tightly so they were still joined. Cradling her head, he said softly, "I've never experienced anything quite like that. Your suggested fantasy was brilliant." He chuckled. "You were very convincing. It was easy to believe you were an innocent, until the very end."

"Oh," she asked, wondering if she had somehow betrayed herself. "Did I act wrongly?"

"Say rather that you forgot to act, and responded quite unlike a virgin." He kissed her lightly on the forehead. "Do you think you will have to pretend satisfaction with me?"

Hiding a smile, she snuggled against him. Madeline had devoted quite a bit of time to explaining masculine arrogance. But he had earned a bit of arrogance. "You are very cocksure about your performance, Gervase," she teased.

His gray eyes narrowed in amusement. " 'Cocksure'? That sounds like the right word."

Diana laughed so hard that their bodies separated, leaving her with a sense of regret for the loss. "It is quite a talent to be vulgar and clever at the same time."

He grinned, then pulled the bedcovers over them. The fire was dying down and there was a chill in the air that they hadn't noticed earlier. Diana was content to lie against Gervase, her head on his shoulder, her arm across his waist. Her lover; what a marvelous reality the words had taken. Once more intuition had guided her truly. The thought of this joining had been terrifying, and only faith that they were meant to be together had given her the strength to accept him.

Now, like mist on the moors, her fears had vanished, and not just because passion had burned them away. Deeper than desire lay some inexplicable quality in Gervase that made her feel peaceful and protected with him, a kindness that had disarmed all her buried angers.

She sighed and pressed closer. Dark secrets might still lie between them, but tonight they had begun a journey together that must surely, in time, lead them to light.

They lay languid until he said, "We still haven't determined how you are going to be compensated. If you thought that offering a sample would raise the price, you are correct." She rolled over on her back and he raised himself on one elbow, playing with her long hair. In the dim light it looked black, with only an occasional hint of chestnut richness.

"Do you want to have all your bills sent to me? Or would you prefer to have a regular allowance, perhaps three hundred pounds a month?" He formed her hair into patterns on the pillow, arcing out like willow leaves.

Diana felt a flash of irritation at his assurance. It was a very generous offer, but... did he assume that after a satisfying tumble, she would automatically fall in with his wishes?

Maddeningly, his confidence was not far off the mark, but she wasn't going to let him know that. Far better to keep him off balance. "Need we be so formal? Bring me presents instead. Surprise me. If I satisfy you and you pay a just price, that will work well enough."

He frowned, his dark brows drawing together as he looked down at her. The comfortable intimacy was fading. "I prefer that matters be settled."

"I am not a 'matter to be settled,' my lord." Diana let her lashes flutter down over her eyes, consciously casual, as if what he did was of no account to her. "Have you never learned that with people you must be flexible or you will be infuriated?"

He snorted, caught between irritation and amusement. "I want a mistress, not a philosopher."

"You have both, and a thousand other things as well. If that does not please you, you are quite free to look elsewhere."

"Perhaps I will in time, Diana. But not yet." He laid one hand on her breast and moved it in slow circles, teasing the nipple as he captured her mouth with his. "Definitely not yet."

Diana was startled to find herself responding. She'd thought she'd had quite enough for one night. But apparently not, and by the growing pressure against her thigh, Gervase hadn't either.

He whispered, "Once more I will diverge from the script. If you had really been a virgin, a gentleman would refrain from doing this again so soon. Fortunately you are not the former, so I need not behave like the latter."

Diana learned that knowing what to expect added to the pleasure. This time their lovemaking was shorn of the pent-up desire that had driven them earlier, and it lasted for an endless, languorous time, with Gervase bringing them both to the edge again and again, then retreating. The prolonged buildup led to a powerful, long-lasting climax, subtly different from the earlier one, but equally intense.

After, Diana lay with her head on his chest, her hair spilling across them both like a veil as their slow breathing matched in rhythm. At this rate, her lack of experience would be eliminated in no time. His strong hand cradled her neck and he was so still that she wondered if he slept.

Though it would be easy to drift into dreams, she preferred not to. "Gervase?"

"Yes?" His eyes opened and there was a very strange expression in them, one she could not analyze. Contentment? Satisfaction? Doubt, or perhaps even fear? Diana was usually very good at sensing others' emotions, but this was too complex a blend to define. She reminded herself that while sex was in some ways a simple act, this was not a simple man.

"It's very late.
 
Time for you to leave."

She felt his hand tense on her neck. Had he expected to stay? According to Madeline, some men liked to sleep with their mistresses, whereas some did not. It was an individual taste.

His voice was cool and detached, remote from the intimate tangle of their naked bodies. "How fortunate that you reminded me. I prefer to sleep alone myself."

If that was true, why did she feel that he was angry at being asked to leave? Though Diana had never spent the night with a man, she didn't doubt that she would enjoy having Gervase's warm, solid body next to hers. But occasionally Geoffrey came down in the early morning, and she would not risk her son finding a man in her bed.

As he pulled his pantaloons on, Gervase asked curtly, "What are your other rules?"

Though his withdrawal hurt, there was nothing she could do about it. Lifting her chin a bit, she said calmly, "Always inform me in advance when you wish to visit."

"So you can chase your other lovers out of your bed?" His voice was definitely hostile as he tugged on his wrinkled shirt.

"If that is what you choose to believe." Diana felt shy about climbing naked out of the tumbled bed, but modesty seemed ludicrous after what had passed between them. She got up quickly, then retrieved her silk robe from the sitting room. Wearing it could be justified by escorting him downstairs.

"What other explanation could there be?"

His gray eyes were chilly and his height and broad shoulders made him an intimidating stranger as he loomed over her. It was hard to remember how close they had been short moments earlier.

Diana quailed inwardly, but didn't drop her gaze. "You might consider that I have a life apart from my... work. I might be out, I might be busy with something not easily interrupted. If I am expecting you, it will be more convenient for both of us."

Her logical answer relaxed him. Crossing the room, he put on his coat, shoving his cravat into a pocket. At this hour, there would be no one to criticize his mode of dressing.

Lifting a candlestick, Diana led the way downstairs and unbolted the front door. The rest of the household was long since asleep, and in the distance she heard a clock strike three times. The deepest, darkest hour of the night.

Before she could open the door, he took the candlestick and put it on a table before embracing her, making his good-night kiss as thorough as any they had yet shared. Her arms went around his neck as he pulled her close, his strong hands shaping her soft curves. In spite of her fatigue, she realized that if he was ready for another round, she would be more than willing to cooperate.

Even as he kissed her, Gervase knew how foolish it was to try to claim a woman of her kind, to attempt to move her so thoroughly that she would accept none of the other men who desired her. There might be an expression of dazed delight on her face when he lifted his head away, but she was, after all, a whore.

Even as he told himself that she was not worth the effort, an inexplicable surge of possessiveness came over him. Seeking the entrance to her robe, he slid his hand between the silken panels, low, between her thighs. "I want you to be mine, Diana," he whispered, caressing her most secret places with the edge of his hand. "Only mine."

She shook her head wordlessly, her flawless face mysterious and unreadable even as he felt the hot, involuntary response of her body. He wanted to take her again, right there, with only the thin Oriental carpet between them and the cold marble floor.

Since Diana wanted that too, perhaps his purpose would be better served by not satisfying their mutual desires. Releasing her, Gervase turned, opened the door, and went alone into the night.

* * *

Diana shivered as she bolted the door, feeling the dark side of what joined them. In her bedchamber she changed to a high-necked, long-sleeved flannel nightgown, the antithesis of eroticism, then crawled into bed. She'd slept here for three months, but never before had the bed seemed so large or so empty.

Tired though she was, sleep proved elusive.
Sex is a double-edged sword.
Madeline's long-ago words haunted her.

Diana had thought she understood, but only now was the meaning clear. Never having experienced passion, she was unprepared for its power. The night had been a shattering experience for her, not just because of the new physical worlds revealed, but because of the emotions stirred. She had given and received pleasure, and so had Gervase. That magical sharing created a closeness very different from her feelings for her son and friends.