Page 20 of What Dreams May Come
“No.” He took one hand away from myculo,and with his fingers under my chin, he pushed my face up so he could see me.
And I could see him. The single candle barely illuminated his unsmiling features, and for the first time I feared him, for he seemedcarved of stone, a monument to mastery. With this demonstration he proved himself stronger, more resolved, more ruthless than me, and if I couldn’t hide my face, I could close my eyes and hide his.
A mistake, for without my sight, sensation stormed me. He used one final firm thrust to push and nudge, creating rich colors of life’s creation beneath my lids, and I rubbed myself against him, seeking more and more pleasure. When I moaned aloud, an untamed sound, I opened my eyes in horror and surprise.
Had I hoped he hadn’t heard,seen, noticed?
Foolish Rosie! He watched my face, followed my movements, listened to my whimpers with the faint smile of a satisfied man. Not his own satisfaction; he remained hard and hot against me. But the satisfaction of a man who’d succeeded in his intention. To teach me a lesson, he’d said.
Yes, he’d done that. I’d never in my life given up control to anyone. Not like this. Not to someone who could mock me, who could hurt me, who could make me a laughingstock in Verona. This was not me, not Lady Rosaline of the House of Montague, who trembled and cried out. Yet these emotions rose from a place beyond my control, a place where, apparently, Prince Escalus held reign.
Gradually he lowered my legs to the stones, yet still he leaned against me. “Can you stand?”
He knew my knees quivered, and that was another betrayal of my own body. He slid his arm around my waist to hold me and, when I would have pushed away, hugged me tightly against him.
I wanted to curse him, but among all the things I’d learned tonight, I knew another emotional outburst wouldn’t accomplish my objective to get away from him. In a stuffy tone and in a voice that had developed a tremolo, I said, “You’re not behaving with the propriety of a great lordtoward a lady.”
“Then the lady shouldn’t have come out alone to entice the great lord.”
“I didn’t come out to entice...you.” I slid sideways out fromunderneath him.
He let me go and stood, tall and still, watching me retreat toward the gate. “To find Lysander, perhaps?”
“Sweet Mary, no!” I froze in place. I didn’t need or want my noble betrothed thinking I chased after another man. The punishment for betraying Verona’s prince would make a convent looklike paradise.
He advanced on me, a dark shadow backlit by that single candle. “Lysander didn’t arrive at your assignation last night.”
“After your timely arrival to take his place, I suspect he was detained.” I spoke each word as if dipped in acid. “By someone.”
Prince Escalus neither acknowledged nor denied his culpability. “Perhaps you came out to find something someone had lost?”
That startled me.“What?”The ring? He knewabout the ring?
So fast he was a blur, he reached out and grasped my arm. Taking my left hand, he pressed it against his codpiece. I felt his erection, still hale and hearty and, to my mortification, the material was damp. From me. My body had done that. I wasstilldamp, and even worse, when he demonstrated what I would have ignored, I reacted yet again. If at that moment he’d freed himself from his codpiece, he would have found his place in me with little difficulty. Except for my wretched virginity, which I’d been told was an obstacle indeed.
“I’m pleased to discover I was right about you.” Lifting my palm to his mouth, he licked it, then took my fourth finger, put it in his mouth and sucked on it.
I gasped, for the way he used his lips and tongue felt somehow intimate, and both terrifying and tempting.
He gave that slight upward tilt of the lips that might indicate amusement, or some other emotion I feared to acknowledge, and taking something from the purse on his belt, he slid it on my finger.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
A ring. It hesitated at my knuckle, then glided all the way on to rest againstmy hand proper.
I knew what it was, of course, but I lifted it to the light and saw in the polished stones a dark beauty reflecting the intensity and invincibility of Prince Escalus. For invincibility was what he intended me to see.
“God creates diamonds in this shape and with no color, brilliant, clear, a symbol of purity.” He defined the properties of a diamond with such precision he seemed to be instructing me. “Thus it is a stone to be given to dearest betrothed. The stone will ward off evil, destroy the effects of poison, and lend strength to a warrior...such as yourself.”
I formed my hand into a fist. If only he knew what this warrior longed to do.
Perhaps he did, for he took my curled fingers and straightened them. “Diamonds are unbreakable and so hard theycannot be cut.”
“How does it achieve this shape?” I didn’t believe that, for the stone resembled two pyramids joined at the base.
“This diamond was formed in the Garden of Eden before the Fall. It’s one of God’s perfect creations, signifying divinity, spiritual union, and...love.” Again he put his lips to my hand, and again I felt the slow, warm, wet slide of his tongue between my fingers.
“Subtle.” I yanked my hand free. “How did you get the ring when I could not?”
