Page 55 of Beneath the Devil's Mask

“Come here,” he commanded. Urging her to draw her feet up on the settee, he guided her until she lay back across his lap, cradling her head in the crook of his arm.

Anne’s eyes widened as she braced her arms stiffly alongside her.

“Relax, Anne. I am not going to hurt you. Have I been such an ogre thus far?”

“No. But I feel too helpless with you holding me this way and I don’t know what you expect me to do.”

“I don’t expect anything for now. Just talk to me.”

“What about?”

“Tell me about Eleanor Rose.” He tucked a stray tendril of hair behind Anne’s ear. “Has it made you happy at last, having your little daughter back again?”

“Oh, yes,” she breathed. He could feel her begin to melt a little. As he gazed down upon her flushed features, Mandell thought if he were any less a villain, he would put a stop to this now and send her home.

The radiant look shining from her eyes as she talked about her child should have been payment enough for any man. But it also lent her an irresistible beauty, the soft curve of her lips far too tempting.

“It has been all I could do to keep Norrie from making a nuisance of herself,” Anne was saying. “My sister Lily does not have a great deal of patience with small children, but Norrie is fascinated with watching Lily attire herself for attending balls. I can remember being the same way when I was still in the schoolroom and Lily was making her come out. She is so dazzling. You must have been there. You must have seen her that night she first took Almack’s by storm.”

“I am afraid not. I have ever eschewed Almack’s. Too many simpering virgins and predatory mamas. No doubt that is how I also failed to notice you.”

“You were not alone in that,” Anne said with a grimace. Mandell doubted she realized it, but she had settled more snugly back against his arm. He suppressed a smile.

“I fear I was something of a disappointment after the debut of both my sisters,” she continued. “Lily and Camilla, the famous Wendham debutantes.”

“Lily and Camilla, their names always made me think of a stroll through a botanical garden. Tell me, my dear Anne, how did you ever escape being christened an Amaryllis or a Columbine?”

“I suppose when Mama peeked into my cradle, I did not make her think of flowers.”

“You make me think of one,” Mandell said, exploring the delicate outline of her lips with his finger. “A blossom whose petals are just about to unfurl.”

He bent forward to brush her mouth with a kiss. Anne tensed at the first touch of his lips, but his kiss was so gentle and lingering. It was as though he but tasted her, sampling the texture of her lips, spreading a pleasant warmth through her. Anne’s mind reeled. She felt giddy, lightheaded, almost floating in his arms.

She clung to him, her fingers slipping across the open neckline of his shirt, making contact with that exposed patch of warm bare skin. She heard Mandell’s intake of breath and drew back immediately, cringing with embarrassment.

“I am sorry,” she stammered. “It is only that you made me feel so dizzy.”

“It is all right, Sorrow. Feel free to touch me. I promise I won’t object.”

His smile was like slow heat, curling in the pit of her stomach.

“I can’t,” she said, blushing hotly. “You must think me so awkward.”

“Actually what I was thinking is that it is time to be rid of those braids. May I?”

“Well, I ...”

He did not wait for her assent, his fingers moving through her hair, removing pins, untwisting the heavy braids she had fashioned with such care. Her hair tumbled down to hershoulders, spilling over his arm, feeling gloriously free. He combed his fingers back through the tangled golden strands.

“Lovely,” he murmured. “You should always wear your hair thus.”

“I would look like a half-mad hoyden.”

“You can be a hoyden tonight. You can be anything you want with me, Anne.”

“What a terrifying offer,” she said, closing her eyes as he bent to kiss her again, his mouth demanding a little more this time. His tongue teased her lips, coaxing, and she parted for him, allowing him access to the innermost recesses of her mouth, allowing him to fill her with heat, to tease, to mate with her as he would.

His hand moved between them, slowly undoing the laces of her vest. When the fabric parted, Anne found it a great relief, realizing she had done the laces far too tight. She was able to breathe again.