Page 85 of Beneath the Devil's Mask
For long moments, Anne was conscious of nothing but clinging to Mandell, feeling the pounding of her heart slow to a steadier pace. As his own ragged breathing became quieter, he continued to hold himself inside of her. Anne savored the warmth, the intimacy of that joining, never wanting it to end.
But he eased himself from on top of her. Although he gathered her in his arms, nestling her head against his shoulder, Anne had a chilling sensation that something was wrong.
She had heard that once the passion was spent, a man would be done with the woman. It had certainly been thus with Gerald. When he had finished with her, he had buttoned his breeches, gave her a peck on the cheek and left the room.
It was some comfort to Anne that Mandell yet clasped her tight in his arms, his face resting against her hair, but she could already feel him slipping away from her.
She shifted enough so that she could see his face. His features were still, his eyes dark with some emotion she failed to comprehend. Disappointment in her perhaps? The confidence that had been born in her this night slowly began to die.
He was so quiet she felt impelled to speak. “What happened between us was incredible,” she said shyly. “It was like nothing I have ever felt. I will never forget it.”
Anne silently cursed herself for the inadequacy of her own words. She wished she could find some way to explain to him that what she had experienced in his arms had been wondrous, something bright and beautiful. She only wished it had been the same for him. When he still failed to speak, she knew it hadn’t been.
“Did you enjoy it, too?” she asked.
“Yes, of course I did.” The kiss he pressed to her brow was as abrupt as his words. Anne sensed he wanted her to be silent, but she could not seem to do so.
“I keep forgetting none of this is new to you. You must have experienced such pleasure dozens of times before.”
Her voice was anxious and Mandell realized she was seeking reassurance. He should have been able to give it to her, but he was too thoroughly shaken. He was used to making conquests. But he had never surrendered so much to any woman as he had done with Anne tonight. It was as though in holding her so close to his body, he had also allowed her to draw too close to his heart. He could hardly admit such a thing to himself, let alone to her.
Before she could stir any more such disturbing reflections, he sought to silence her. Turning her in his arms, he kissed her, her mouth soft and pliant after their lovemaking. When he broke off the embrace, he saw that he had appeased her anxieties if not his own.
Nibbling at her ear, he strove for a lighter tone. “I fear you are far too easily pleased, my lady. Your late husband’s performance in the bedchamber must have been quite unremarkable if you were so impressed by my poor skill tonight. The next time, when I am better rested, I will show you far greater pleasures.”
“Will there be a next time?” Her eyes were far too wistful, too eager.
He should have said no for both their sakes. Yet he found himself replying, “If you wish it.”
“Then I shall become your mistress?”
Anne watched Mandell’s brows draw together in a frown. Her question seemed to disturb him.
“Could you be comfortable in that role?” he asked. Anne hesitated only a moment over her reply. “Yes. Neither of us is bound by vows to anyone else. It would be different if I were not a widow and if you were married,”
“There is no fear of that difficulty arising.”
“Do you never intend to marry, my lord?”
“I will be obliged to one day, find some haughty dame with enough ice and ambition in her veins to make a proper marchioness. Trade off my title and wealth to put an heir in the cradle of the august house of Windermere.”
He meant to sound flippant, but Anne detected an underlying bitterness beneath his words.
“It sounds like a very cold arrangement,” Anne ventured, reflecting that she certainly ought to know. Except that instead of ice and ambition, Gerald had wanted propriety and virtue,
Mandell smiled at her, stroking his fingers through the length of her hair. “One generally saves all one’s warmth for one’s mistress.”
“You will have to forgive me, my lord, and remember that I am quite new to the rules that govern a relationship such as ours.”
He dropped a kiss on her brow. “To begin with, you will have to learn to be more demanding. Tell me what carriages, what jewels, what expensive presents you expect from me in return for your affections.”
Anne swallowed to conceal the hurt his words gave her, “My affections don’t come so dear. All I want is more moments like we shared tonight, perhaps occasionally for you to play your music for me.”
“You expect too little, my dear. Once again you make me doubt whether you are the sort of woman suited for this kind of liaison.”
“What sort of woman do you think I am?”
“The kind who will always need the prince on a white charger, whisking you off to the security of his castle, keeping you safe from all ogres and dragons.”
