RendezvousWithYou (5 page)

Voices in the hallway halted her actions and Bella canted
her head at the door. “Who was that?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Ian said. “Come to me, Bella. Please.”

She crawled forward again, her gaze fastened on him, and
never had a man looked more desirable. She put one knee on either side of his
hips and braced herself with one hand while with the other she gently took his
prick and guided it inside her. “Ahhh,” she sighed. “You feel so good, Ian.”

“Move, Bella,” he whispered. “Slide up and down me. I want
to feel myself slipping in and out of you. You have the most beautiful puss,
did you know that? Hot and tight and sweet and wet like it’s just been waiting
for me.”

“And so it has, my Ian. And so it has.”

Setting her hips in motion, she moved back and forth so
Ian’s prick would be almost out before she slid down him once more, his cock
throbbing deep inside her. She picked up her rhythm, her heart lurching to a
blinding speed as a roar started in her ears.

And all the while his expression was wild and hungry, his
gaze never leaving hers. They rocked together until they were one person, one
soul, and there was no world outside the wide bed.

Then the world shattered about her, sending her over the edge
into the abyss, and she collapsed against him, listening to the steady thumping
of his heart.

“You are without a doubt a magnificent lover,” she said at
last.

“I’m glad you think so,” he panted. “Sweet Jesu, that was
incredible.”

“Your pleasure is my desire.”

She sat up and untied him before settling herself against
his shoulder, still holding his stockings. He wrapped his arms around her,
letting one hand creep down her back to playfully swat her ass. “You are a
complete minx, sweet Bella. Did you know that?”

“If my stockings could talk, I’d be the most notorious woman
in London.”

“After tonight, you’re well on your way,” he agreed, still
playing with her ass. “But your reputation is safe with me. It’s a good thing
you wore a wig, you know. If you had entered the room without it, your identity
would have been known immediately. No other woman in London has hair the color
of spun gold.”

“And the masks certainly helped.” She yawned. “That nose of
yours would have given you away instantly.”

“We’d be
notorious
if we were recognized,” he
predicted. “Doomed. Ruined. Reputations shattered beyond all repair. Good thing
we’re in this together, for at least for now, our mutual rendezvous will be
kept secret.”

She snuggled closer against him. “Let us rest assured Allesandro
will ensure our identities well-guarded. His ability to keep all kinds of
secrets has guaranteed his success within the
ton
. I once heard he—”

A bell rang outside their door, accompanied by the pealing
of a much larger one outside the house. Sitting up, they exchanged glances and
began counting the toiling of the larger bell, ringing down the hour. Ten.
Eleven. Twelve.

“Midnight,” Bella pronounced.

“Lord,” Ian exclaimed. “Do you suppose we’ve won?”

A brisk tattoo of knuckles sounded on the other side of the
door. Ian pulled on his breeches and started across the room.

“Wait!” she cried, scrambling under the covers. “Our masks!”

“Good thinking, my girl.” Grabbing them from the table, he
brought hers to her and, holding his in place, went to open the door. A
liveried servant, holding a large candle aloft, stood in the hallway. Even the
near darkness covering him could not hide his broad grin.

“Begging your pardon, sir, my lady,” he said. “As it is
midnight, I am sent by your host to ask you to join the rest of the guests in
the drawing room.”

Keeping the mask flat against her face, she sat up and tried
to contain her shout of victory. “You mean we’re the last couple? We’ve won?”

The servant’s grin became a smirk and he bowed. “So it
appears, my lady. Come and see.”

He stepped away and Ian closed the door just as she threw
back the covers and jumped from the bed. “We’ve won!” she crowed. “We’ve won!”

“Good thing he didn’t come until we were finished,” Ian
said, returning to the bed, gathering the rest of his clothing on the way. “We
would have given him an apoplexy if he’d come any sooner.”

“And what a dreadful way to end the evening,” she agreed,
hastily pulling on her clothing. Taking some pins, a small comb and brush from
her reticule, she tided her hair before putting on her wig and returning the
ribbons to their masks.

When Ian had finished dressing, she approached him, masks in
hand, and asked, “How do I look?”

He chuckled. “Certainly not like a woman who spent her whole
evening fucking away like mad.”

She gave him a dowager’s haughty stare. “You are very
coarse, sir!”

He grinned. “And you loved every minute of it. But let’s not
waste time sparring. Let’s go gloat in our victory and the prize won.”

She held out her mask. “Would you do the honors for me?”

“Assuredly.” He carefully placed the mask on her face and
tied the ribbons. “Such a shame to hide such beauty,” he murmured. “But we
can’t have anyone knowing who you are. Will you put my mask on me?”

Bella cocked her head. “But you’re so tall. I would need a
chair to do that and I wouldn’t want to hurt the furniture by standing on it.”

He laughed. “We don’t need to risk a shilling of our
winnings by doing that. I’ll sit in that chair over there while you tie on my
mask.”

Bella curtsied. “Truly you are a man of great cleverness.
Sit and it shall be so.”

Once his mask was secured, Ian rose and offered her his arm.
“Then come, madam. Let’s to collect the title and the purse.”

A burst of applause greeted them as they entered the
candlelit room. Her hand in his, Bella sank into a deep curtsy while he bowed
to the crowd.

“Well done,” Allesandro praised. “Dare we ask how many times
the deed was done? And where?”

“I don’t think I can count that high,” Bella said demurely
and the guests laughed.

“Then we must declare that this gentleman, by the rules of
the night, ‘The Best Lover in London’,” Allesandro said and the crowd applauded
once more.

“You will get no argument from me on that score,” Bella
declared. “I don’t think I’ll be able to walk tomorrow. But it was worth it.”

“Shall I have to replace any of the furnishings?” Allesandro
asked.

“Not this time,” Ian said. “Though I think I can safely say
the bed was the least of the furnishings used.”

A roar of laughter issued forth, followed by more applause.
As it died away, Ian added, “Although I am glad to say my own bed will most
definitely be used for sleep this night. Come, my good host. Bring forth the
promised prize. And I do hope you have already divided it, for I’d hate to
spend my last waking moments counting it out coin by sweet coin.”

“Certainly.” Beckoning with his finger, Allesandro added,
“Come with me.”

Ian and Bella followed him to a corner of the room. After
removing a painting, he opened a small wall safe. Taking out two drawstring
bags, he handed one to each of them. “There you are. Winnings for your evening
of decadence. How shall you spend your fortunes?”

Balancing the bag in her palm, Bella said, “Oh the list is
endless. My milliner, my modiste, perhaps my shoemaker. Deciding where to start
will be the only problem.”

“Spoken like a true lady of fashion,” their host agreed.
“And you, sir?”

“More pleasure,” Bella’s lover declared. “But now our revels
are ended, as the Bard tells us, and I must walk my fair lady to her carriage.”

Ian led her past the cheering crowd into the foyer. After
collecting her cloak from the waiting footman, he escorted her outside to her
carriage.

The guests followed and he made her an elaborate bow. “Thank
you my lady,” he said, kissing her hand.

Bella inclined her head. “The pleasure was all mine, good
sir.”

He gave her a long lingering kiss, and then squeezed her
bottom, invoking another laugh from the crowd. After helping her into her
carriage, he turned to the crowd and bowed. “Thus ends another night for ‘The
Best Lover in London’.”

And laughing, Bella watched him climb into his own carriage
and drive away.

* * * * *

“Did you enjoy your evening, Lady Jocelyn?”

She smiled at the family butler. “I did indeed, Orlando.
Thank you.”

The servant looked at Hugh. “And you, Sir Hugh? Was your
evening also successful?”

He shrugged out of his great coat and gave it to Orlando.
“It was. An evening that yielded a great prize, indeed.”

“Speculations, Sir Hugh?”

He could not stop his grin. “You could say that. I think we
need a bottle of champagne. The Dom Pérignon please, if you would, Orlando.”

“That successful?” Orlando gave him an admiring glance. “But
why should I be surprised? Your reputation at investment is legendary, Sir
Hugh.”

“Thank you, Orlando. You may bring the champagne to the
upstairs drawing room. Come, my lady.” He extended his arm. “Let us go see if
our children are sound asleep.”

In the nursery, Monroe, Alexander and Sydney all lay in the
deep slumber young children enjoy.

“They’re looking more like you every day, darling,” Jocelyn
whispered, squeezing his arm.

“Except for their noses,” he said. “They’ve all got your
nose, thank the good Lord.”

She reached up to stroke his prominent feature. “It’s a
perfectly beautiful nose, my sweet. Noble, proud, Roman—”

“Big,” he said and they laughed.

“Shall we change from our finery into something more
comfortable?”

She nodded. “It may be beautiful, but this wig is starting
to give me a headache.”

When she joined him in the drawing room, he was pleased to
see she had let down her hair. The firelight turned her curls falling past her
shoulders into a blaze of burnished gold, and pride at being married to one of
London’s greatest reigning beauties—not to mention one with the kindest of
hearts—surged through him.

“Trust Mrs. Sykes to send up food,” Jocelyn sighed happily,
joining him at the heavily laden table. “I’m starving.”

“It helps to have the best cook in London. She knows how
such events make you hungry.” Hugh opened the champagne, filled two flutes and
offered her one. After filling their plates, they sat on the sofa by the fire
and Hugh raised his glass. “To our success.”

Her eyes sparkled. “Here’s to ‘The Best Lover in London’.”

“I had a good partner.” He leaned forward and kissed her.
“You were extraordinary tonight, my Bella,” he whispered. “Amazing. I’m quite
sure every man in the room was wild with lust, wanting you for their own.”

Her love-bright eyes equaled her smile. “Then it’s a good
thing we’re already married to each other and, as such, bedding anyone else
would be quite inappropriate.”

“I’ve never held with adultery.” He peered at her over his
glass. “Do you think they guessed we were married? Or who we actually were?”

She sipped her champagne. “No to the latter. After all, Sir
Hugh Ian Rolfe and his wife Lady Jocelyn Isabelle are known to be one of the
ton
’s
most proper couples. One which would never behave in such a scandalous way.”

“Which is why we’ll never be invited to Carlton House,” he
agreed. “The Prince Regent is known to have declared that not only are we the
most proper couple in London, but also the most boring.”

“For which I’m extremely grateful,” Jocelyn declared. “The
Carlton House set is way too fast for my taste.”

Hugh leaned back and stretched out his legs. “Do you know,
when we first arrived at Alessandro’s, I actually thought Anthony and Emily
were one of the masked couples? One of the men was certainly tall enough.”

His wife’s soft familiar laugh warmed his heart. “You would
be quite mad to think that of the Duke of Bradford and his lady. Emily’s last
note to me said their child could be born at any time so they're refusing all
invitations.”

Hugh sipped his drink and considered. “So how shall we spend
our money? A diamond necklace, perhaps?”

“I don’t want diamonds. And you would look silly in them.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” He adopted an airy tone. “I might look
quite fetching in diamonds. Wouldn’t you like to see me stretched out naked on
our bed, wearing a diamond necklace?”

“You are quite silly, my Ian,” she scolded. “But I have a
better suggestion for how to spend our windfall.”

“And what would that be?”

“Make the nursery larger.”

He squinted at her suggestion. “But why should we do that?
It’s big enough now for the boys.”

“Yes, but it won’t be for long. We'll soon need another
bed.”

Her meaning struck him with the force of a blow and his
wineglass fell to the carpet. “Jocelyn,” he whispered, “are you saying—”

“That I’m going to have another child?” Her smile could have
outshone the stars. “Yes, darling. So, you see, we should use the money for
that, although I might not mind if you had another diamond added to my wedding
ring. One to show the world we have four children.”

He got on his knees and kissed her hands. “I would give you
the moon and stars if you asked for them, dearest Jocelyn. Or perhaps I should still
say Bella?”

“Right now I want you to give me one more romp in our own
bed before we sleep,” she whispered. “There is no place in the world quite like
our bed, is there?”

“None,” he said, standing and bringing her to her feet.

Arms wrapped around each other, they ambled to their
bedroom. From a bureau drawer, he took out her engagement and their wedding
rings. “I hated removing these, but we couldn’t afford to have anyone guessing
who were.” He returned his to the fourth finger of his left hand. “I don’t
think I’ve ever taken mine off until now.”

She gazed lovingly at her rings in his palm. “It’s quite the
most beautiful engagement ring ever made. Women still talk about it.”