His Lady Mistress. Elizabeth Rolls

done to her? He stalked to the door. Surely she didn’t think he’d ever force her? Had he frightened her with that brief kiss? Had she realised the fierce depth of his desire for her? He’d had to control every muscle in his body not to ravish her, plunder the soft mouth. She was sweetness incarnate. It had taken every ounce of willpower to draw back, when all he had wanted… He swore again. She’d only had to glance down and what he wanted would have been all too obvious.

      It was still making its painful presence felt ten minutes later when he reached the billiard room. Picking up a cue, he considered his next move. His next move? On the rare occasions a woman refused him, he accepted her reply and dropped the pursuit. In fact he usually realised before ever broaching the subject. He sent a red ball crashing into a pocket. Why couldn’t he accept Selina’s refusal? He shook his head. When had he ever wanted a woman so much that his body continued to ache after she had refused him and gone?

      Perhaps she needed time to think it over. She hadn’t exactly refused. He ran over her reply. I should not be here, my lord. Please excuse me. Perhaps she needed some reassurance that he wouldn’t leave her penniless at the end of their liaison. Maybe he hadn’t made that clear.

      He thought back. And closed his eyes in disbelief at his own stupidity. Apart from telling her that he’d be gentler than Godfrey, he’d offered her nothing. Nothing beyond a casual tumble. No wonder she’d refused. All he had to do was find her and explain…explain what?

      He didn’t know himself what he wanted. Only that Selina was very different. That in taking her under his protection, he would be doing just that. Protecting her.

      Verity lay in bed, shivering. The warmth of the day lingered, but she couldn’t stop shaking. Her memory refused to listen to wisdom, continuing to dwell on the tender strength of his hands, the gentle pressure of his kiss. That was bad enough, but for her body to join in the treacherous assault shocked her. What sort of wanton creature ached and trembled at the mere memory of a kiss that had lasted about three seconds?

      It would have to last a lifetime. She didn’t dare see him again. Grimly she admitted that it was not that she did not trust him. Rather, she could not trust herself. Her whole being cried out to let him hold her, touch her.

      Stop it! He wants a great deal more than just to hold you. He wants exactly what Godfrey wants. Nothing else. A gentle, persuasive voice murmured, Would it be so bad to be his mistress? He would be kind to you…you’d be free. You could purchase an annuity. They’d never dare to take you back after that…even if you are a minor.

      No! She wouldn’t, she couldn’t. She mustn’t. Things weren’t so bad that she needed to sell herself into whoredom. Besides, perhaps he didn’t want her as his mistress. Chances were she had completely misunderstood him and that he simply wanted to bed her while he was here. That was much more likely. Even if he did want more… She shied away from the thought, shocked at her own weakness.

      A little voice asked, How much longer can you hold Godfrey off? Wouldn’t it be better—

      No! If only she could think of some way to leave when she came of age. Just over a year. She shut her eyes in despair at the bitter reality. She had nothing—no money, no other connections. She would be no safer if she did leave.

      A soft tap on the door shocked her bolt upright. Who would bother knocking? Certainly not Godfrey…

      ‘Selina? Are you awake?’ The deep voice went straight through her like a spear. What could he possibly want?

      Exactly what he wanted this afternoon.

      ‘Y…yes.’

      ‘May I come in?’

      How can I stop you?

      ‘By saying no,’ came the quiet response. Dismayed, she realised that she had spoken aloud. And that even if she let him in, she was safe enough. He had knocked, requesting her permission to enter. He has a gentle way with women and children…

      ‘Come in.’ She felt as though those two simple words had brought her to the edge of a precipice, to hang trembling over the unknown.

      Clutching her blanket to her, she watched, wary, as the door opened and he came in. His lamp cast a mellow flickering glow so that she saw his face shadowed, as she had remembered it for five long years. In that light she could almost forget that he was Blakehurst. She could almost pretend that this was one of her dreams in which, miraculously, Max had come to take her away. Almost.

      He dwarfed her tiny room, needing to bend his head to avoid cracking his six foot plus height on a beam. ‘May I sit down?’

      ‘If you can find something to sit on,’ she said, deliberately unwelcoming. To her complete consternation he sat on the campaign chest. He appeared to be holding himself stiffly. She wondered if he were uncomfortable. Then she saw the flash of his eyes in the lamplight and had the impression of something held tightly leashed, something dangerously hot.

      ‘I imagine you know why I have come,’ he said in a quiet voice strangely at odds with the burning look in his eyes.

      Burning? She gave herself a mental shake. She must be imagining things. It was just the reflected lamplight.

      ‘I came to make quite sure you understood what I offered you this morning. I want more than a casual tumble. I would take you as my mistress, Selina. If you still refuse, then so be it, but I thought you might find my protection more acceptable than Faringdon’s persecution.’

      A gentle way with women… ‘Why?’

      She thought he blinked. ‘Why? Because I’m asking you, Selina. Not forcing you. If you become my mistress, it must be willingly.’

      ‘No. I meant, why do you want me as your mistress?’ And why am I even asking?

      He definitely blinked. ‘Isn’t that obvious, Selina?’

      ‘No.’ She couldn’t imagine why he would want her. According to her aunt and cousins she had nothing to recommend her. Oh, she knew why Godfrey wanted her. Because she was defenceless and he was a swaggering bully, not far removed from the loutish schoolboy who had once drowned a kitten in front of his terrified little cousin, merely because he knew she was fond of it.

      But Max—Lord Blakehurst—was not of that ilk. She had not the least idea why a man with a reputation for taking beautiful women as his mistresses would want her.

      ‘Because I desire you of course.’ The sudden huskiness in his voice shocked her. ‘Because I want to take you in my arms and kiss you and every one of those damn freckles. Because I want to see your eyes go black with desire when I make love to you. Because I want to hear you beg me to take you. And I want to hear you cry out in pleasure when I do.’

      As if he couldn’t help himself, he reached for her and she jerked back against the wall. Instantly his arms fell to his sides. She heard the rasp of his breath, saw the sudden flattening of his mouth.

      ‘I’m s-sorry,’ she whispered. ‘I didn’t mean to make you angry. You startled me.’

      Silence hung darkly between them.

      ‘I’m not angry,’ he said at last. ‘Well, yes, I am. But with myself for frightening you. The truth is, Selina, that I want you. I wanted you the minute I laid eyes on you. Or, to be accurate, the minute I felt you in my arms.

      ‘Think about it,’ he went on. ‘Even if you are not dismissed, there is still Faringdon. He may leave you alone while I am here, but what do you think will happen when I leave? At least if you come with me you will be treated well, you will have clothes, jewels and money. A house to live in. After we part you will have a generous sum of money settled on you.’

      Any single element of what he offered would be a great deal more than she had now. It would have been tempting…if she had wanted any of it. It was what he didn’t mention that tempted her—that briefly there would be someone who cared a little. Someone who would treat her tenderly. Someone she could care for. After we part… Inevitably there would be a parting. Even now her heart