Page 54 of Beneath the Devil's Mask

“Some pleasures are not to be rushed.” Mandell set down the wine bottle. He stepped closer, framing her face with his hands.

His poor Lady Sorrow. It was difficult to remember at this moment that she was a widow, a woman who ought to know a little something of the world and men. She looked young, vulnerable, and scared, as though she expected him to pounce on her, tear off her clothes, take her right there on the floor.

It was not as though the desire burning inside him waxed too cool for such a thing. But he had ever been a man of iron control and possessed more finesse than that. He had taken far too many pains over his conquest of the virtuous Anne, planned too carefully to ruin all by a clumsy burst of passion. He wanted her beneath him, hot and willing, trembling not with fear but with a fire that would match his own.

“I’ll have no martyrs in my bed, milady,” he said, tracing his thumbs over her cheekbones. “I do not intend to proceed until I feel you are ready, my beautiful one.”

“Oh, don’t,” she cried, clutching at his wrists, seeking to push his hands away. “Don’t feel obliged to say things like that, to try to pretend that I am beautiful.”

“Pretend? And whatever makes you think that you are not?”

“I have only to look in a mirror.”

“Then you have been looking in the wrong one. You should seek your reflection only in my eyes.” He kissed her brow, reveling in the sweet fresh scent of her, the warm silky texture of her skin.

“Before this evening is over, Anne Fairhaven,” he vowed, “I shall not only have you willing in my arms, but also convinced of how beautiful and desirable you are.”

“That could take a very long time, my lord.”

“We have all night. If you truly have no wish to dine, go sit by my fire and warm yourself. You seem quite chilled.”

She obeyed him, marching over to perch upon the edge of the settee with a resigned sigh. Mandell drifted about the room, extinguishing all the oil lamps until the chamber was lit only by the glow of the fire. When he moved to take his place at her side, she sat ramrod straight, her gloved hands clenched together in her lap.

He eased himself down, stretching one arm behind her along the back of the settee, taking as great a care as though she were a skittish dove that would flutter away at his slightest movement.

“You have exquisite posture,” he said. “Were you ever in the military?”

His teasing succeeded in coaxing a half smile from her.

“No, but I did have a very strict governess who I am sure could have out-generaled Wellington himself.”

Capturing one of her hands, Mandell inched back her glove enough to expose the delicate, blue-veined area of her wrist. He pressed his lips to her thundering pulse.

“Mrs. Brindlehurst!” Anne gasped.

“I beg your pardon?”

“That was the name of my governess. She always insisted upon proper carriage. She—” Anne eyed him nervously as he began to undo the buttons of her glove. “She always said it wasimportant to remain erect. Otherwise, my frame would start to sag.”

“I have never noticed any part of you sagging.” Mandell tugged off her glove, delighting in the slender grace of her hands until he saw her fingernails. Anne blushed scarlet and tried to curl up her hand, but he refused to allow it, holding up her fingertips, examining them closer.

“My dear Sorrow, what have you been doing to your poor hands?”

“It is a bad habit of mine,” she said. “I bite my nails in times of great stress.”

Mandell frowned, for the first time understanding the agonies of apprehension Anne must have gone through the past week.

“And I have been the cause of that stress?” he said, kissing her fingertips one by one. He felt a shiver course through her.

“You are not exactly the most restful influence in my life, Lord Mandell.”

“Is that what you desire, Anne? To remain calm, no excitement ever to touch your staid and proper world?”

“Staid and proper. That is what I am. I don’t know how to be anything else.”

“Then it behooves me to teach you.”

Mandell had never felt flooded with so much tenderness toward any woman. His need to take her into his arms and soothe away her fears burned as strong as his desire for her.