Disguised Enchantment

by S. Quinn McAfee

  "It wasn't a game!" Ben thundered. "My desire for you was overwhelming, Shannon. If I couldn't have you as the Marquis, I could at least date you as Ben Tate!"

  "B-but you did have me as the Marquis!" she sputtered. "And ... and then the next day you would show up, and I would have to hide my involvement with-with ... Oh, God! How you must have laughed at me!"

  "I never laughed, Shannon. Chuckled a time or two at the ingenious ways you covered your tracks ... that is, until the evening I found you crying on the beach." His eyes were soft and compassionate as the rested on her. "When I saw how tormented you were over your relationship with the Marquis, I knew I had to find a way to end the masquerade before I lost you altogether."

  Shannon's voice wavered with emotion. "So now I'm supposed to be relieved it was you I was in bed with all those times? Well, I'm not!" she sniffed. "It doesn't change the fact that I was a tender, naïve virgin you were most eager to ply with the full extent of your erotic services." She moved toward him, swaying her hips in a most suggestive way while her eyes flashed through the moisture of her tears. Hooking her finger in the leather laces of his jerkin, she leaned into him, rising up on her toes so that her face was just inches from his. "So what do I owe you for all the fun, Monsieur?" she asked in a saucy tone. "It surely must amount to thousands of dollars by now."

  Ben's eyes burned into hers as a slow, sublime smile formed on his lips, and she knew at once she was treading on dangerous ground. Quickly yanking her finger from the jerkin, she started to back away but the bed halted her retreat and she discovered there was no escaping him. A thickly muscled arm slipped around her waist and brought her against his massive chest. She remained passive in his embrace and did not struggle as his finger lifted her chin, forcing her to meet his fervent gaze.

  "My love for you is priceless, Shannon." His voice was dead serious. "But just in case you don't believe that, I've got something here that just might prove my sincerity."

  Reaching into the pocket of his leather breeches, he pulled out a small black velvet box and flipped open the lid. Shannon glanced down at the contents of the box and gasped in astonishment at the huge diamond sparkling in the dim light of the room.

  "That's ... that's a marquise shape, isn't it?" she stammered, dumbfounded.

  "Yes, of course. What else would it be?" He laughed at the astounded expression that still lingered on her face.

  "Mmmm. What else?" she mumbled, pushing out of his embrace.

  Ben watched in utter bewilderment as she flopped down on the bed and burst into tears. He expected her to be emotional. But good emotional. Not utter devastation.

  Easing down beside her, he lifted her chin, peering into her tear-filled eyes with an earnest, imploring gaze. "Marry me, Shannon. I love you with all my heart and can't bear to spend another day without you."

  "Yeah, right," she sniffed. "That way I can be the resident laughing stock for your horny, old maid clients."

  Distress deepened the craggy features of Ben's face as he reached out and took her trembling hands in his. "Shannon," he expelled a long, anguished sigh, "I'm so sorry you were subjected to that ... that sordid display, but believe me, I had no idea you were going to come to the Chateau that day."

  Shannon raised her head and fixed him with a skeptical gaze. "How odd," she sneered. "I got a message at work that someone named Mattie invited me to lunch. Now I wonder how that could have happened?"

  "Oh, you got the message all right," Ben scoffed. "But it wasn't Mattie who called. It was Marsha. You see, she deliberately lured you to the luncheon to hurt you, drive you away from me ... and she certainly accomplished that, didn't she?" He scowled darkly. "You fled to San Francisco before I could explain..."

  "Explain what?" Shannon cut him off sarcastically. "How much you enjoyed romping with those ... those over-sexed old biddies and humiliating me in the process?"

  "Despite what you may think, I was not enjoying myself!" he thundered, the muscles in his jaw twitching angrily. "In fact, I downright loathe those sleaze sessions and, if I'd had it my way, they would have never been part of the Chateau."

  "What do you mean, if you'd had it your way?" she quipped.

  Ben eyed her disdainful expression, and then continued. "Those damn weekly luncheons were the one thing Marsha wouldn't forgo when the Chateau opened. If I wanted the business to run by my standards, I had to agree to entertain Marsha's wealthy friends on a weekly basis."

  "I guess that explains your rather suggestive attire and behavior then, doesn't it?" she replied bitterly.

  "It's what they pay for, Shannon."

  "And you aim to please," she smiled coldly. "Even if it means hurting the one you're supposed to care for in front of them."

  "I told you I wasn't deliberately trying to humiliate you! I..."

  "No?" she flared. "What was it then? Were you so caught up in your ... your "act" that you thought you could arouse me with the same disgusting display you so eagerly tempted them with? Well, it made me sick! I could hardly believe you were the same man I fell in love with."

  "I'm sorry," he whispered hoarsely, his voice heavy with remorse. "I know my behavior toward you was grossly offensive, if not downright vulgar, but under the circumstances I had no choice but to make a mockery of your unexpected appearance."

  Shannon stared at him incredulously. "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "It means I was trying to protect you."

  "Protect me? From what?" Shannon railed. "Seeing the real you in action?"

  Inwardly Ben winced from the sting of her words, but outwardly he remained stone-faced and fiercely determined to make his point. "From them, Shannon. As I recall, you wanted our relationship to remain a clandestine affair. I couldn't risk revealing my true feelings for you without jeopardizing that agreement. Besides, there's no telling to what lengths those women would be willing to go to help Marsha rid you from my life. I couldn't, wouldn't let any harm come to you."

  "You really don't expect me to believe that, do you?" she sneered, shooting him a dagger-laden look. "The only thing you were worrying about was how many of them would stop patronizing the Chateau if they learned the Marquis was, how shall we say, involved."

  "That's not true," he bellowed. "At least not anymore because I'm no longer part of the Chateau! I quit the day I found out Marsha had arranged for you to be present at that damn luncheon."

  Shannon's eyes flew to the contrite expression sobering his face. "You ... you mean you're giving up being the Marquis?" She gasped at him in astonishment.

  "I didn't say that." He shook his head. "Being the Marquis is something I could never give up."

  "Oh, of course not!" she mocked. "What could I have possibly have been thinking? Once a gigolo, always a gigolo."

  "Yes, damn it! That's exactly what I am if you're talking about striving to be what most men aren't when it comes to love and romance. And I'm proud of it!"

  "Proud?" My God, how can you say something like that?" she shouted angrily.

  "Well, I'll tell you!" he retorted, catching her by the shoulders, forcing her to face him. "To the majority of men, the art of romance and being a good lover are usually way at the bottom on their list of priorities. But not me, Shannon. Those things, including several others, like commitment, open, honest communication, and a thriving penchant for romantic fantasy are the very soul of my existence. In fact," he fumbled for the ring he'd stuffed into the pocket of his breeches, "I got this because of all those things."

  Shannon's bemused gaze fell to the sparkling stone in front of her.

  "That's right," he grinned. "It's still here and it's not going anywhere but on your finger."

  "What?" She jerked to attention, quickly focusing on his impish grin.

  "Perhaps I didn't make myself clear the first time." Dropping to one knee, he took her hands in his. "Shannon, it has always been my sincerest intention and deepest desire to give you my love as well as my heart. It would make me the happiest man in the world if you wou
ld be my bride."

  "You're ... you're really asking me to marry you?" she stammered, the tears welling anew in her eyes.

  "Of course, I am." He rose to his feet and pulled her into his arms. "Do you really think I'd kid around about asking you to spend the rest of your life with me?"

  "No," she shook her head.

  "Well, then, what's it going to be?"

  As she stood there, eyes downcast, pondering his proposal, the thought began to run through her mind that while she was still angry and thoroughly believed he deserved a sound chastising for the way he'd deceived her, she found it increasingly difficult to muster the will to do so. After all, he was the man she had fallen in love with, and it was quite ludicrous to fight her feelings, fight him, when everything she ever dared dream of was standing right in front of her and could be hers with just one word.

  Timidly, Shannon raised her eyes and looked at Ben who had been watching her with tense deliberation. "I-I love you so much," she whispered unsteadily, "but ... but we've had so many problems, so many misunderstandings. I'm so afraid..."

  "All that's behind us, Shannon. This ring symbolizes a new beginning and an end," he smiled tenderly. "A new beginning for our love and an end to the lifestyle that kept us apart."

  "Do your really mean that?" she asked, peering up at him through tear-laden lashes.

  "With all my heart, sweetheart," he whispered. "With all my heart."

  "Then, yes! Oh, yes!" She flung her arms around his neck. "I'll marry you! I'll marry you," she sobbed into his shoulder.

  Ben's reply came in the form of a swift, searing kiss that unlocked a long-neglected craving inside her. She clung to him, returning his kisses with a fervor matched only by that of his own.

  "I think there's still some unfinished business we need to take care of," he breathed huskily against the curve of her lips.

  "There is?" She pulled back and scowled at him.

  "Mmm-hmm," he held up his hand revealing the diamond ring he'd slipped onto his little finger for safe keeping. "I believe this belongs on your hand now." Lifting her left hand, he carefully slid the ring onto her third finger. "Perfect," he breathed, securing it with a gentle kiss.

  A small gasp escaped Shannon's lips as she gazed at the huge, fiery diamond. "Oh, Ben, it's so beautiful. So expensive!" Her eyes flew to his beaming face.

  "Hey, you," he hauled her back into his arms. "I told you before nothing is too expensive for the woman I love. And don't you ever forget it," he admonished with a barrage of tender kisses.

  Gradually the pattering sound of raindrops and a loud rumble of thunder disrupted Ben's ardor, and he drew back, glancing toward the drapery-covered windows in dismay. "Must be getting nasty out there," he said, gesturing at a brilliant streak of lightning.

  "I can't believe it. We're together and it's raining again!" Shannon exclaimed.

  Ben's arms encircled Shannon's waist and drew her back into the warmth of his embrace. "Perhaps it's a sign," he smiled down at her.

  "A good one, I hope." She returned his smile.

  "Only the best," he whispered. "After all, stormy nights are for lovers."

  A sexy, come-hither smile formed on his lips as he began undoing the laces of his jerkin. A moment later, his boots and breeches follow the jerkin to the floor before he moved to the bed where he strategically lowered himself to the pile of ruffled pillows propped against the headboard. Shannon stared in silent awe at his splendid naked body gleaming softly in the candlelight. It was quite shocking, if not more than a little disconcerting, to see all those familiar, bulging muscles without the accustomed masked face of the Marquis.

  "Now what are you doing standing way over there?" He laughed at her sudden bout of shyness. "Come get into bed before you catch a chill."

  Slowly, Shannon made her way toward the bed. When she was but a few inches away, however, she stopped and gazed down at him with searching, uncertain eyes. A gentle smile formed on Ben's lips as he reached out to her in loving reassurance.

  "It's all right, Shannon. I'm the same guy you've been with all those times."

  Coyly, she placed her small hand in his larger, warm one and eased down on the bed.

  "You really don't need this, do you?" he whispered, fingering the straps of her nightgown. "We've had enough barriers between us. I don't want anymore."

  Shannon let Ben lift off her gown and pull her down onto the bed with him.

  "Oh, God, Shannon," he groaned, as he drew her tight against the full length of his hard body, "do you have any idea how much I've missed being with you like this?"

  "Probably about as much as I've needed to be with you like this," she replied softly.

  In the moments that followed, Shannon responded with overwhelming joy to Ben's hungry kisses and the delicious feel of his fully aroused penis pressed against her, but try as she might, she couldn't keep his vow to never give up being the Marquis from creeping into her thoughts. Finally, she pulled away in awkward shyness, no longer able to conceal the anxiety churning inside her.

  "What's wrong, Shannon?" he asked, gently massaging the slender curve of her shoulder. "There's still something troubling you, isn't there?"

  "I don't ... I mean, I can't," she choked.

  "Hey, come on, talk to me," he whispered, trying to coax a response from her. "You know you can tell me anything."

  "Oh, all right," she acquiesced, taking a deep, nervous gulp of air. "I-I just don't understand, if you're no longer part of the Chateau, why you won't give up being the Marquis."

  "So that's what the sudden cold shoulder's all about," he laughed. "Aw, Shannon, don't you know? The Marquis is me! He's not someone I become when I put on that mask. My inner feelings and personality don't change with my style of dress or the simple donning of a black piece of silk. I wear those Eighteenth Century costumes and the mask because they are an expression of my erotic side. A side I believe you truly enjoy, if you would only admit it."

  "I-I do enjoy it," she confessed in a small voice. "I mean, I did fall in love with the Marquis before I knew you and he were one and the same. And I suppose the mask and the clothes had something to do with it..."

  "I'm very glad to hear that," he whispered, snuggling her back to his shoulder, "because from now on, you can have the Marquis any time you want him."

  "I can?" She rose up and peered at his smiling face.

  "Absolutely," he nodded.

  "I-I'm afraid I don't understand," she stammered, trying to avoid his mischievous, twinkling eyes.

  "It's really quite simple." Those eyes narrowed seductively. "I intend to see that the Marquis remains a very vital part of our marriage. You'll be enjoying his company quite often, let me assure you. In fact," he grinned, reaching beneath the pillows for the black hood he'd stashed there earlier, "I can accommodate that fantasy right now, if it is your pleasure."

  Shannon shook her head as happy tears welled in her eyes. "Not tonight. I want to see the face of the man I love, and delight in every moment of you making love to me."

  "Oh, you do, do you?" Ben lifted his brows suggestively. "Well, why don't you come over here on top of me and take a very, very intimate look."

  Smiling provocatively at him, Shannon eagerly surrendered to the sensual wonders of Ben's lovemaking, secure, at last, in the knowledge that he would forever be her "Marquis" and that the enchantment had just begun.

  The End

  About the Author:

  A native Pennsylvanian, S. Quinn McAfee was bitten by the writing bug in junior high when her Christmas story was voted the best of her entire eighth grade English class. Years later, she discovered the urge to write was stronger than ever, and decided to study journalism and fiction writing through a correspondence course with the Newspaper Institute of America.

  Presently, Ms. McAfee finds writing romantic fiction a relaxing escape from the trials and tribulations of every day life, and hopes her first erotica novel, DISGUISED ENCHANTMENT, carries readers to that wonderful world of pleasur
able escapism as well.

  E-mail comments always welcome at: squinnmcafee@aol.com

  We invite you to visit Liquid Silver Books

  http://www.liquidsilverbooks.com

  for other exciting literary erotica romances.

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  Destiny's Magick -- Rae Morgan

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