The Master & the Muses (21 page)

I stood, carefully placing my cup on the tray. Thomas set his next to mine. I sensed Thomas standing close and images of the carnal passion we once shared, before Edward, before my marriage vows, flashed in my mind. Did Edward truly love me, or was I just a prize to be won from Thomas?

“I am certain he was thinking only of your welfare, Sara. Now if you'll show me where it is, I can set up my studio. I find myself anxious to baptize this house with the scent of linseed and turpentine.”

“Of course. Edward felt the sunroom would suit you best. He said it should offer you plenty of light.” I walked ahead of him, waiting as he gathered his belongings. “Edward said, ‘You know how Thomas is about his light.'” My focus fell to his broad shoulders and lean hips as he stooped to pick up his bags.

His eyes met mine and as if he knew where my focus had been,
he offered a slight smile. “In here.” I hurried on ahead, making my way in haste through the parlor and the dining room to an archway at the other end of the house. Three of the walls were windows and beyond was my precious garden, where I spent much of my time. “The ceiling, I'm afraid, is lower than what you are used to, but I think you'll find the room suitable for your needs.”

He hadn't spoken. I turned around to face him. “Will this do, Thomas?” He stared at me, his eyes glittering…
Were those tears?
I couldn't think of a time when I'd ever seen him weep.

“Thomas?” I took a step and forced myself to stop. “What is it?”

His eyes drifted shut and he breathed deeply, as though absorbing his surroundings. “I am eternally grateful to the both of you. I have no idea how I shall ever repay you.”

I tried not to let shock register on my face. This was a different Thomas Rodin—vulnerable, exposed. He was not the brash and reckless man with an effervescent charm I was used to. “Thomas, it is Edward and I who should be thanking you for your generosity. Whatever we can do to help, we're here for you.” I wrapped my arms around him and he laid his head on my shoulder like a child and quietly sobbed.

After a time, he whispered against my neck, “Thank you.” A kiss followed on my cheek as he brought his hands to my face. He placed another kiss on my forehead.

“You have no need to fear me, Sara. I am here only to reclaim my joy in painting and to care for you in the absence of my dear friend.”

I nodded, keeping my eyes downcast, not trusting myself to look at him, to get any closer to that mouth.

“Thomas—”

He lifted my chin, his eyes searching mine.

“You do believe me, don't you? I would do nothing to jeopardize your marriage.”

My gaze dropped to his lips, the same that I had kissed many
times before. How would I be able to resist him under the same roof? I knew it was wrong to dwell on it, but my own husband had planted the seeds in my head. I stepped away, straightening my hair. “I must see to dinner, Thomas. Please make yourself at home.” I hurried off before the simple act of friendship turned into something more.

THREE-AND-A-HALF WEEKS. I WAS BEGINNING TO
feel skittish, worried that I'd not yet heard back from my husband and tempted more and more by the way Thomas looked at me when he didn't think that I noticed. His appearance was improving each day and the fire that had once burned in his eyes had reappeared. My traitorous memory could not forget the passion of his touch, his avid attention to all things carnal, the way he once made me feel alive.

I had purposely avoided his presence as much as possible, keeping occupied with sewing and reading—relieved that Thomas had not yet required me to sit for him.

“Any word from Edward?” Thomas came into the library, his hair damp and tousled from his morning bath. He wore a shirt loose over his trousers, and his feet were bare.

“Not yet. You don't think anything has happened, do you?” I glanced at him as I walked to the window. I wrung my hands, trying not to imagine why I hadn't heard from Edward. Was he thinking of me as much? Did he miss me? Thomas seemed to sense my concern.

“It's not easy to get mail out in some of those remote areas,” Thomas offered. “Try not to worry.”

I shook my head. “I am certain he is capable of taking care of himself, Thomas. It's just that—”

“Just that what, Sara?”

I saw his reflection in the windowpane as he moved to my side. “I shouldn't burden you with my troubles.”

“Posh, Sara. I am the burden here, if anyone.”

He placed his hands on my shoulders and I leaned my cheek against his hand. “I confess, I am glad you're here, Thomas.”

“What can I do, Sara?” He spoke quietly, his thumbs brushing along the nape of my neck. The fresh scent of his soap wrapped around me, offering me an odd sense of familiar comfort.

I closed my eyes, allowing my shoulders to relax, unaware until now how tense I'd become. Thomas had always had a knack for being able to calm my nerves. “Edward and I…” I was hesitant whether to share my intimate problems with Thomas. Then again, who else knew us as well? “In truth, we did not part on good terms.”

“It will be well, you'll see. Absence is a wonderful aphrodisiac.” He traced the slope of my neck. “Women are perfect creatures of passion. There is no need to lie to yourself about that, nor try to keep it from me. Edward is a good man, but when he asked me to come here, I sensed that he was carrying a weight on his shoulders that, frankly, only he would be able to resolve. Unfortunately, in his quest to face his demons, he has ignored your needs, hasn't he?”

I felt the tension slide from me as he massaged my shoulders. I could not deny what he said. My efforts in trying to infuse passion into our bed had been met with apathy and frustration, causing greater anxiety in me. I had tasted Edward's passion and to have it denied without benefit of understanding left me feeling hopeless, yet at the same time wanting. Whether it was wise or not, Thomas's companionship had filled that void and for whatever reason, I felt my husband knew that when he asked him to stay on at the cottage. Did I dare call his bluff and embark on finding out if I was still capable of passion?

“You have a way about you, Thomas. I wonder if you realize what you do to women.”

He chuckled low, wrapped his arms around my waist and tucked his face next to mine.

“And here I thought I'd lost my charm.”

My hand found the smooth, muscular hip beneath his trousers. I remembered the sinewy strength of his legs and the prize that I'd once been privy to thrust proudly between his legs.

I mentally told myself to stop, that no matter what problems Edward and I were having, this wouldn't solve them.

“Perhaps Thomas can give you what I cannot right now, Sara.”

Edward's words came floating back to me in gentle approval. Perhaps he was right.

“Oh, Thomas, you're still a rogue—” I smiled “—but that is what I've always liked about you.”

“I can give you passion, Sara, if that is what you desire.” His breath whispered hot against my temple.

I felt his hands circle my waist, resting scant inches below my breasts. He nuzzled his face in the warm curve of my neck. It was a simple breach of fidelity, a mindless moment shared between two former lovers—if I were to stop it now. But the delicious sensation was far too enticing. I was aware of my buttons coming undone, my blouse dropping to the floor, a chill rushing over my exposed flesh.

“You are so exquisite, Sara. How am I expected to keep my hands off you?”

Thomas cupped my breasts in his hands, easing the white swells upward until my pink nipples peeked over the ribboned edging of my corset. He slid his hand down my throat, dipping inside my corset, pinching and rolling my tender nubs until I ached to have the damn obstruction off me.

I stood the torment for as long as I could and turned toward him, drawing his face to mine in a furious kiss. His fingers worked at the strings of my corset, a chuckle slipping from his mouth as the knots gave way. He spread the lacings, removing the corset
and freeing my breasts. Between kisses, he drew off my blouse and camisole, tossing them aside, his hands quick to return, pushing up my breasts, taking of his carnal feast.

My palms squeaked against the windowpane as Thomas suckled and taunted each breast. His quiet moans mixed with the heady pleasure consuming me. It had been so long since I'd felt anything like this, since I'd wanted this.

The juncture of my thighs grew soft and moist. “Thomas,” I sighed. He knew so well how to mold me, to touch me in a way that made it impossible to stop.

“God, Sara, I want to be buried inside you. Do you remember how fine we were together?”

I nodded, biting my lip as I fought the guilt that tried to creep into my thoughts.

“I want to fuck you, Sara. Slow and easy, like it used to be, but you have to want it as much,” he whispered against my cheek.

“Thomas,” I said softly, brushing my hand over his hair. “It has been so long.”

He slipped off my drawers and pressed my back to the window, his face inches from mine as his hand slid over my damp curls and between my legs. A glorious moan of pleasure escaped my throat.

“That's it, my muse,” he breathed out on a sigh as he pressed his palm over my breast.

“I cannot.” I swallowed, shaking my head gently. “What about Edward?”

Thomas took my hand and led me to the settee.

“Come here, Sara. Sit.” He motioned to his lap and I sat facing away from him. Through the confines of his trousers, his erection pushed unashamedly against my bare bottom.

“If Edward was here, he would find you as irresistible as I do. He'd want to see you happy, just as I do,” he whispered, kissing the back of my neck. He spread his knees, so, too, moving mine apart, his hands sensuously rubbing my inner thighs.

“Relax, Sara. I will see to your pleasure. I will make you come
as I suspect you have not in too long. You are much too beautiful, too deserving, to go without passion.”

I succumbed to the magic of his stroke, lying back and closing my eyes, placing his hand over my breast, lost in the utter delight of my body awakening as if after a very long sleep.
“If only—”
the misty words repeated in my mind
“—if only Edward would love me like this.”

“Sara.” I knew his scent before his mouth covered mine, not allowing me to speak. Through my hooded lids I saw my husband kissing me, his tongue splendidly mating with mine. They were
his
callused fingers caressing my breasts, his mouth drawing my tips gently between his teeth. All the while, Thomas continued to stroke me, captivating my mind in a euphoric bliss.

“Thomas…” My words were cut off by another sensuous kiss. Was I dreaming? Had Edward really come back early? Was it because he missed me?

“You are so lovely,” Edward whispered between intermittent kisses. “I just want to see you happy, Sara. I'll do anything for you.” His mouth captured mine, erasing all my thoughts, all my fears. In my joy, I threaded my fingers through my husband's hair, verifying it was him. His lips moved over my body, drawing my hips forward, nibbling on the tender juncture of my thighs.

A sigh tore from my throat and pure heat coursed like a slow-burning fire through my veins, my hips responding gently with the delight of his tongue.

“There, my muse, your pleasure is all we want,” Thomas whispered in my ear.

Thomas's hands, warm and caressing, slid over my breasts. I pressed into them, engulfed in sensual, ravenous need, taking my fill of what they offered. It was decadent and so unlike my before-now staid husband to partake in such a venture. I lifted my arms over my head and allowed their exquisite worship of my body. I didn't think about whether it was right or wrong, or what would happen after.

My breath caught each time Edward's tongue teased my clit.
My body coiled tighter and I heard my sighs echo in the silent room. The warmth of the afternoon sun shone through the windows, illuminating the dark sheen of Edward's hair against my pale flesh.

I came in a powerful rush, crying out my husband's name, “Oh, Edward, sweet Edward.” He rose, capturing my mouth, my juices mingling with his fiery kiss, drawing out the rolling waves of my shuddering climax until I was utterly spent. My body collapsed against Edward's shoulder and he held me close, stroking my hair.

I opened my eyes, the sensual haze dissipating now and the reality of what had happened taking shape in my mind. “I love you,” I whispered against the curve of Edward's shoulder.

He gently eased me back and searched my face, swallowing hard, as if he, too, was realizing what had just happened.

“I—I need to think, Sara…if I am what's best for you.”

I grabbed his hand as he turned to leave. “Of course, you are, Edward.”

He glanced over my shoulder at Thomas and drew my hand to his lips for a soft kiss.

I jumped from my lover's lap and ran to the window, watching as my husband climbed into the carriage he hadn't released yet.

I turned to meet Thomas's unflappable gaze.

“You love him,” he stated, closing his eyes. A smile lifted the corner of his mouth. “He loves you, Sara. He just needs to sort things out.” He rose and handed me my dress. “If you'll excuse me, I think I will go pack my things. For once, I'm not going to think about what's best for me.”

He leaned forward and kissed the back of my head.

“Be happy, Mrs. Rhys.”

 

It was late. I'd chosen not to eat supper; I had no appetite. Instead, I'd taken a long soak in the tub and lain down, hoping to find the answers that would not come to me. Now I sat at my vanity in my robe, brushing my hair as was part of my nightly routine. The soft glow of the kerosene lamp cast odd shadows on
the wall, amplifying the loneliness I felt inside. Would Edward return? God, I prayed that he would. We had so much to talk about, so much of our marriage yet to be lived, and with the same passion he'd shown this afternoon, if he so desired.

Even now my body tingled at the heat in his eyes as he knelt before me, his hands holding my thighs, preventing me from escaping. It had been, without a doubt, a profound experience to have the freedom of such undivided attention and yet, it was knowing that Edward was aroused by me, that he was willing to do whatever it took to please me, that brought me over the edge.

The sound of the door opening caused me to look up. Edward's eyes met mine in the reflection of the mirror. I held my brush suspended in midair as I waited for him to speak.

“I've missed you in a most desperate way,” he whispered, drawing the brush from my hand and dropping it to the floor.

I stood, bending over to pick up the brush, and felt his hands come around my waist. His hands slid beneath my robe, over my thighs, as he gently nudged me forward. The fire in his eyes was all I needed, as I leaned on the vanity and welcomed him inside me. He filled me to the hilt with his glorious length, bringing me to my toes.

“Open your eyes, Sara,” he said softly. “Look at me.”

My fingers dug into the edge of the table as my eyes rose to his. My breasts, showing through the gap of my robe, swayed with each slow, methodical thrust and my core tightened in a furious spiral. I teetered on the delicate edge of release, my gaze holding to his to be sure that I was not dreaming. This was Edward, needing me, desiring me. My body clenched in glorious release around him as he followed with a guttural sound, matching the pleasure of my sigh.

He drew me up, the warmth of his body shielding my back as we looked at each other in the mirror. “I do not want to live my life without you, Sara.” He kissed the crown of my head. “I don't know how to make up for all that I've put you through.”

I turned into his embrace, pressing my cheek against his broad
chest. “I just wanted back the man who seduced me that day in the studio,” I said. “I needed to feel that you still desire me, Edward.”

“More than you know, my love. All the while I was away, every night you invaded my dreams. Everything I saw, everything I experienced—I thought about what you would think. I yearned to have you at my side, sharing every moment with me. That is why I came back—” he brushed his hand over my hair “—to tell you that I am miserable without you.”

He leaned away from me, holding me at arm's length. “But I want you to be happy, Sara. And I meant what I said earlier. In some cultures, it is permitted to have more than one lover. I can learn to live with that, if it is what you want, but I think part of me had to know whether you were mine entirely, or if you still harbored feelings for Thomas. I didn't realize until I left that it was likely a big part of why I invited him to stay here.” He searched my eyes. “I was aware of the risk involved, but I had to leave so that you would be able to decide for yourself what you needed, what you wanted.”

I held my hand to his cheek, feeling the familiar roughness of his unshaven face beneath my palm. “I will always have affection for Thomas, Edward. However, not in the same way I have for you. Thomas only loved me with his body—it is all he knows, at least for now. But I hope one day he will feel what I feel for you—something built to last, to weather the storms that will come. You, Edward, have my heart, my soul and my body, if you so desire it.”