“How long must I wait, Diana?” His voice was barely more than a whisper, but his gaze was hypnotic.
Delicately he toyed with her ear. She hadn’t known that such a mundane part of the body could feel such sensations. Her right hand gripped the tree trunk to steady her in the face of her body’s quickening response. His stroking touch was so light that she could feel the whorls of his fingertips, like the brush of butterfly wings on her throat. Who would have thought that a man with such strong hands could be so gentle?
“I can understand that you wish to know me better,” he said huskily, “but the more time we spend together, the harder it is to keep my hands to myself. In fact, it is quite impossible.” Moving around the tree, he captured her, sliding his arms around her waist and drawing her into a kiss.
Dizzily Diana decided that she must be getting the knack of kissing, for the depth and intimacy grew between them every time they embraced. Her eyes closed and she lost herself in the warm interchange of lips and tongues. It seemed entirely natural to explore his mouth just as he was discovering hers, and it was a whole universe of tender, wild touching.
They sank to their knees, their bodies pressed together. He brushed a light trail of kisses across her cheek, finding an exquisitely sensitive spot below her left ear. Sliding his hands down the gentle curves of her back, he caressed her buttocks, hips, and thighs, molding her against him. Her hips began pulsing in a primitive rhythm and she was shocked by her own response.
I shouldn’t have had so much wine.Diana realized that if he wanted to take her here, in a public park, she would have no will to stop him. A seductive thought, to have this first encounter take place right now, with no time for her to worry about her limited experience and skill.
But even through the haze of wine and desire, she knew that this was not how she wanted to begin. Gervase Brandelin was already too important in her life for casual coupling on the forest floor. She must use her mind, establish control as Madeline had taught her, not slide into submission like a lovestruck dairy maid.
Besides, she was unprepared to prevent pregnancy. Much as she loved Geoffrey, she had no intention of giving him a younger brother or sister in such a casual, heedless way.
She broke free of Gervase’s embrace and sank back on her heels, her knees touching his, her breathing uneven. Before he could embrace her again, she said softly, her voice as unsteady as her breath, “What do you want from me, my lord?”
He hesitated and she continued, unable to resist a smile. “Apart from the obvious, that is.”
Realizing that he faced another test, Gervase also sat back on his heels, his hands spread on his thighs as he thought about her question. First he had to cool the fire she raised, no mean feat when just kissing her made the blood shout in his veins.
What did he want of Diana Lindsay, apart from the opportunity to bury himself in her, to lose all his dark memories and regrets in the immediacy of passion?
An excellent question, one that deserved an honest answer. After his breathing had steadied, he replied, groping for the right words, “I like order in my life, so I want a regular mistress. I would like to know that you would be available when I want you, and would act no angry scenes about my neglect.”
She nodded calmly, her lovely face showing no hint of whether she approved or disapproved of his statement. “And what do you wish for me? Long-term sexual intimacy is complicated, as you must know. What pattern would you wish ours to take?”
She had a knack for disconcerting questions. He’d never considered how matters should look from her point of view. Gervase set his teeth in his lower lip as he thought about the answer. While their relationship was rooted in commerce, if Diana became his mistress there would be more between them than simple business.
The question was, how much more? Slowly he replied, “I want you to be free of financial worries. And I hope you would find our liaison physically satisfying.”
Blandly she asked, “And if you don’t satisfy me, shall I pretend that you do?”
Stung in his male pride, Gervase retorted, “If you lie, you will have only yourself to blame for dissatisfaction. Even the most skilled of lovers can’t read thoughts.”
His gaze brushed the lush curves discreetly displayed by her prim dark blue riding habit, then returned to her flawless heart-shaped face, serene in quiet listening. There was too much sensuality in every line of Diana’s body to imagine that she would be impossible to satisfy. Her response to his kisses showed that under her ladylike demeanor lay a passionate nature.
Having reached that conclusion, he said more evenly, “I know that it is one of a courtesan’s skills to convince a man that he is the greatest lover in the history of mankind, but I prefer to think that you will not have to be an actress with me.”
Two could play the game of questions, so he continued. “What do you wish of me? You have made it clear that any number of men are willing to pay your price. What more will it take for you to single me out above your other suitors?”
“I never said I would single you out.”
Her musical voice was so matter-of-fact that it took a moment for him to absorb the sense of what she was saying. As angry color rose in his face, he snapped, “You prefer to operate a one-woman bawdy house? That is quite unacceptable to me. I want your exclusive services, and I am willing to pay more than generously for that privilege.”
Her wide eyes were still serene, but steel showed in the dark blue depths. “I have no desire to accept all offers, but neither will I promise to be exclusive.” After a moment she added, “I do not make promises that I am unsure I can keep.”
Gervase stood, his body taut as he brushed leaf mold from the knees of his riding breeches. “If that is how you wish it, then we have nothing further to discuss. I have no intention of waiting in line outside your bedroom door.”
Trained to be courteous even in anger, he offered his hand to help her rise even as his mouth set in tight, angry lines. Sharing his woman with any rake or footman who took her fancy was insupportable.
Quite intolerable . . . and yet his resolve began to waver the moment she laid her hand in his. Her weight was light as she came to her feet with the grace of a forest dryad. She did not release his hand, and the delicate-boned fingers lay within his grasp, radiating a calm that spread through him and soothed his anger.
She stood so close that her breasts almost touched his chest, and he caught the elusive scent of lilac. Her wide innocent gaze lifted to hold his as she asked, “Are you so inflexible that only your way will do? If I am always there when you desire me, why should it matter what I might possibly—only possibly—do in some other hour? What will you lose by that?”
He wanted to say that he was indeed that inflexible. Compromise might be necessary in his public work, but he had found no need for it in his personal life.
Not until now. Just how much did he want this woman with her exquisite face, intoxicating body, and gentle manners?
