“Please, Anthony,” she moaned, “come inside me now.”
He grinned ruefully, kissed her quivering flesh once more lightly, and drew himself up to lie beside her on his side.
“My heart is still beating woefully fast. Will you not—” Her voice broke off as he kissed her parted lips.
“I am sorry, my love, but for the moment at least, I fear I cannot oblige you. You see, that is why a gentleman must give his lady her pleasure first.”
“You mean that you should not have left me?”
“No, most assuredly I should not have.” He stroked her breast with gentle tenderness. “You gave me great pleasure, Cassandra. No woman has ever before—” He stopped abruptly, for a tiny pucker had appeared between her brows.
She said, her tone strangely unreadable, “You mean that you have, that is to say, there have been many other ladies?”
He stretched onto his back and pulled her languid body against his side. Her directness and candor amused him. Surely, even in her innocence, she must realize that he had not spent his adult years as a celibate. He grinned at her, pushing back a cloud of hair from her face. “It is not at all important,” he said, and surprisingly, she sighed and nestled her cheek against his shoulder.
He felt her fingers lightly stroke his chest and down his belly. Her lips touched his shoulder and her tongue gently caressed his skin. He felt himself respond to her, delighted that she wanted him and was not embarrassed to show him.
“You are an enchantress, Cassandra,” he said. He entered her slowly, easily, for she was moist and ready for him. He pressed his hand against her hips, pushing himself more deeply into her. He watched her eyes slowly grow dark and smoky, and controlled himself, until finally she moaned into his mouth and pounded his back with her fists.
They lay quietly together, so close that each could feel the other’s heartbeat. He gently kissed her closed eyelids.
“I love you, cara,” he said softly, “and I want you and need you. I know that it is difficult for you to trust me and give yourself over to me. Believe me, I did not want to hurt you, but I could not let you wed another man. I had to take you away, give you the chance to come to care for me as I do you. I would that you cease thinking of me as a cruel, ruthless villain. I want your happiness, cara, and I want you to be my wife, my partner, my lover.”
His gentle words, spoken without arrogance or demanding, touched her deeply. She sensed for the first time his vulnerability. For a brief instant, she wanted to respond to him. She struggled to understand herself. Was her passion so powerful a force that she was willing to forgive him all that he had done to her? Slowly, regretfully, she shook her head against his cheek.
“If you truly want my happiness, my lord, then you must grant me a very simple request.”
His dark eyes narrowed on her face, but his voice remained soft. “Yes, my love?”
“Allow me to write to Eliott and to Becky.”
“And to Edward Lyndhurst?”
She felt his pain through the sudden harshness in his voice.
“Yes.”
“The answer is no, Cassandra.”
She pulled away from him. “I do not understand. Why, my lord? Are you afraid that Edward will come here and take me away from you?”
“I must admit that it would be awkward for him to arrive unannounced in Genoa,” he said calmly, his voice now devoid of gentleness.
“At least let me tell them that I am alive. If you insist upon it, my whereabouts will remain unknown.”
He sighed deeply. “The answer is still no. You will write your letter only after you are safely wedded to me and are the Countess of Clare. I will not have Edward Lyndhurst searching Europe for his lost love when she will never be his. It would be needlessly cruel.”
“Cruel? You think it less cruel that he believes me dead?”
“Yes, for he must forget you. When he finally hears that you have wed me, the result will be the same. You will no longer be a part of his life.”