by Trisha Baker
"And what did she tell you?"
"That it's a cross to bear."
Simon laughed so hard he wasn't able to keep dancing. A few people turned to stare out of curiosity while Maggie turned an interesting shade of magenta. What had possessed her to say that?
He got himself under control, and they walked back to their table.
"I'm sorry, Meghann—I shouldn't have laughed like that."
"It wasn't that funny," she sniffed.
"Not at all—it would be tragic for you to have such a dim view of marriage." Before they sat down, he lifted her chin and kissed her. "Was that a cross to bear?"
"No," she whispered, thankful for the chair she was able to sink into before she fell.
For a while, Simon kept her laughing with his sardonic descriptions of Pauline Manchester and some of the other ill-favored guests at the party. Then a rather stout gentleman who had his arm around a stunning, tall blonde passed their table. The blonde took in Maggie's hair streaming down her shoulders in a disdainful glance. Maggie glared back, refusing to look embarrassed.
"You shouldn't have taken my hairpins out," Maggie complained to Simon. "I look like I don't know how to dress for a night on the town."
"You look beautiful," he replied. "Don't let the woman's jealousy get to you."
"Jealous?" Maggie questioned in astonishment. "Why should she be jealous of me?"
"You did see the gentleman she was with? Perhaps she envies you for not having to entertain old, ugly but wealthy gentleman to buy all the finer things in life. You don't think she'd like to go out with someone rich and handsome?"
Maggie was tired of feeling flustered and ill at ease. She decided to tease. "Whoever told you you're handsome?"
"Meghann! You're wounding my pride." He sighed in mock resignation. "But if you do not find me attractive, perhaps I should ask that man," he said, indicating the blonde and her toadlike companion, "if he would like to trade dates?"
Maggie looked at the other table, and shuddered. If you looked as good as that girl, why should you have to bother with some ugly man?
"Why are you looking so wistful, Meghann?"
"I was just thinking how I'd love to look like that—tall, blond, and willowy."
Simon took her hand. "You mean you'd trade away that beautiful fire-red hair and verdant eyes to look like a thousand other women?"
"Well, all girls want to look like her…"
"You have no reason to envy her. She should envy your unspoiled beauty and sweetness."
Maggie blushed again, and Simon told her briskly, "Not that you deserve any compliments. As I recall, you informed me I was not at all handsome."
"I didn't say that—I just asked you who told you that you're handsome."
Simon's eyes trapped hers. "Am I handsome, Meghann?"
"Yes," she told him softly.
To lighten the mood, Simon continued to ponder the relationship of the other couple, saying that the blonde's interest in the man couldn't possibly be financial—no, she must be attracted by his stunning physique.
"You have a forked tongue, Lord Baldevar," Maggie admonished him.
"And who had nothing but deprecatory remarks about Pauline this evening?"
"Not me," Maggie said innocently while he poured her another glass of champagne and then turned the bottleneck up in the ice bucket. Although Maggie was feeling no pain, she thought it didn't look like the alcohol had affected Simon at all.
"In fact," she said wickedly, "I think you and Pauline would make a lovely couple."
"My dear, you shall pay for that remark."
"How?" she challenged laughingly.
"However I see fit."
The waiters were informing the remaining customers that unfortunately the Stork Club was closing now in compliance with the wartime curfew.
"Oh." Maggie was downcast. "I like it here."
"We can come back," Simon told her. "Assuming I forgive you for attempting to burden me with Pauline."
They were outside now, and the cold air was sobering Maggie up. "Where would you like to go now, Meghann?"
Home, she thought to herself, before I manage to get myself into trouble with this man. She remembered how it felt when he kissed her.
"I have to get up early tomorrow," she lied.
"Then I shall have to see you home. You said you live nearby? Would you like to take a cab or walk?"
Maggie looked up at the sky filled with stars, and the full moon. The air was crisp but not cold. "Walk."
On the way to her apartment, Maggie was in a quandary. What was going to happen? Would he expect her to ask him upstairs? And if she did, what would happen?
Maggie dismissed from her mind the notion that this man might simply neck with her and leave. So what was she going to do? She couldn't go to bed with him. Even putting Johnny aside, the fact remained that Maggie was Catholic enough to believe that sex before marriage was a mortal sin. Plus terrible things could happen… She could wind up having a baby. Her father would kill her.
Okay, she told herself firmly when they arrived in front of her apartment house. I'll just go upstairs, and I'll forget I ever met this man.
"Thank you for walking me home." Maggie started to walk away, trying to ignore those golden eyes before they tempted her into doing something she'd regret.
Silently Simon turned her toward him. He put his hand under her chin, leaned down, and kissed her. At the first contact of his lips, Maggie felt her knees buckle; Simon embraced her to keep her from falling. She put her arms around him, and kissed him back hungrily, all her reservations forgotten. Maggie had never been kissed like this. The tip of his tongue licked her lips, causing her to tremble. At some slight pressure on her lips, she opened her mouth to receive him. His tongue explored her mouth slowly but thoroughly. It felt like he wanted to possess her.
And I want him to possess me, she thought. God, how I want it. She felt like she was going to melt.
Simon broke off the kiss and stroked her hair softly. "Meghann, I want to come upstairs with you. May I?"
At that moment, Maggie could barely remember Johnny's name. All she could think of was that Bridie wasn't home, so there was nothing standing in the way of her inviting Simon upstairs.
"Yes," she said simply.
What in God's name am I doing? Maggie thought, giving Simon a sidelong glance as she fumbled with the keyhole. Was she really going to give her virginity to this stranger standing beside her? All the reckless passion she'd felt when he kissed her had vanished during the short walk to her third-floor apartment; now her only emotion was cold, quaking fear.
Tell him to leave, the voice of common sense hissed at her, but Maggie couldn't push any words past the leaden lump in her throat. Besides, the only thing worse than her fear of what would happen when she finally opened the door was her mortification at the thought of backing out now, of having to tell Simon she'd chickened out.
"Damn!" she cursed when the key fell from her trembling hand and clattered to the floor. Maggie bent down and then felt a large, warm hand on her shoulder. Looking up, she saw Simon hunched down next to her.
Smiling, he tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and plucked the key up off the tiled floor, placing it in her outstretched palm. When their eyes met, Maggie felt an odd sense of serenity fall over her, dissipating her panic. Calm restored, Maggie inserted the key into the lock with no further difficulty.
"Please come in," she said, ushering him into the small apartment she shared with Bridie. Anxiously Maggie's eyes wandered toward the bedroom and her cheeks flooded with color while her heart began to pound so loudly she was sure Simon would hear the hectic drumbeat Surely, she wasn't supposed to just lead him into the bedroom! No, there must be other steps… amenities…
"Drinks!" Maggie screeched, and Simon turned toward her, though the apartment was too dark for her to make out his expression. Maggie stepped away from him, turning on a small lamp on an end table by the couch, continuing to jabber ner
vously. "I… I could make you a highball… Do you like ginger ale? Or I can make some coffee… I really make very good coffee…"
Simon started walking toward her and Maggie backed away involuntarily, stumbling against the arm of the couch and falling onto the cushions in an undignified heap.
Hastily reseating herself, Maggie blushed furiously, not looking up when she muttered, "I'm sorry" to Simon as he took a seat beside her. Quick tears stung her eyelids and she blinked them away, feeling like an utter fool, sure she was doing everything wrong and Simon couldn't feel anything for her now but pity and disdain.
"You have nothing to apologize for, little one," Simon said and reached out to draw her into his lap. Maggie peered up at him hopefully, warmed by both the new endearment and the tender, husky tone of his voice. Maybe she hadn't ruined everything after all. "Now what's the matter, sweetheart?"
It actually took her a moment to remember, so lulled did she feel by the warm, soft lap cushioning her and the strong but gentle hand stroking her hair. "I… I don't know what I'm supposed to do."
At first shocked by her own candor and uneased by the way this man compelled her to tell truths she'd have kept from anyone else, Maggie felt a rush of relief when Simon simply smiled. He revealed a dimple in his left cheek she longed to kiss, and he started twining fiery strands of her hair around his fingers to bring her closer to him. "Meghann, you don't have to 'do' anything but enjoy the pleasure I so want to give you."
Maggie started to say something else, but it was blotted out forever when Simon started to kiss her. The firm lips over hers banished her anxiety completely, bringing back all the knee-weakening desire she'd felt downstairs. Her hands reached up of their own volition to wrap around his neck and she pressed her body against him, feeling the hand around her waist tighten almost painfully.
God, this was wonderful, Maggie thought, overwhelmed by the dizzying sensations she felt as Simon continued to kiss her; his touch became more demanding as she became less restrained.
"Delicious," Simon murmured, attaching his lips to her neck. Eagerly Maggie pushed his head down, reveling in the heat that coursed through her as he kissed and licked the soft flesh of her neck. Then she thought she felt something hard and disturbingly sharp at the hollow of her throat, but Simon pushed her away abruptly, standing her on unsteady legs.
Giving her a quick smile, he took off his black bow tie while his eyes wandered over her body. He ran a finger under her chin; his fingertip made a slow, lazy path until it stopped just over her left breast. "I want you to take off your… shoes."
Maggie giggled at the mischievous twinkle in his eyes and kicked her silver mules off, returning his bold gaze with a saucy grin. "Is there anything else I should take off?"
"It appears that nervous maiden of a few moments ago has vanished… Good riddance to her," Simon said with a grin. Almost leering, as he spun her around.
"Oh," Maggie gasped when he unzipped her violet gown. Wordlessly she stepped out of the dress, bemused when she realized she was standing before a man wearing little else besides her lavender slip.
"Pull your hair up," Simon commanded and Maggie obeyed, using both hands to gather her shoulder-length hair into a haphazard upsweep.
"Good girl," he murmured and ran his lips down the nape of her neck, making her skin break out into tiny little shivers of gooseflesh. "Now keep your hands up until I tell you otherwise."
The directive proved harder than Maggie would have thought when Simon's hands reached up to cup the curve of her breasts. With exquisite slowness, Simon began to run his fingers in wide circles around her breasts, slowly spiraling toward her nipples while he planted soft kisses on her neck and ears. Maggie sagged against him, feeling an unfamiliar throbbing start to build inside her when she felt the hard, solid planes of his body pressed against hers.
"Oooh." Maggie heard herself moan when Simon's teasing fingers turned her nipples into hard little points, and unbearable warmth pulsated through her, making it almost impossible to stay on her feet. Startled by the open lust in her throaty moan, Maggie stiffened abruptly. What on earth was she doing? A decent girl wouldn't…
"No," Simon said and whirled her around. Maggie felt mesmerized by the demanding gaze that seemed to penetrate to the depths of her soul. It was his eyes that kept her against him far more than the imprisoning grip on her forearms.
"No," Simon said again, and she shivered at the intensity in his voice. "Don't ever feel shame for anything we do together, Meghann."
"I'm not ashamed," Maggie said, and she wasn't The brief embarrassment fell from her just like the gown she'd shed moments before. "It's just… I… I never felt anything like that before…"
"Of course you didn't," Simon said, giving her a voluptuary grin before his mouth encircled her breast.
"Oh, yes," she whimpered at the hot, soft tongue she felt through the thin silk of her slip, clinging to Simon as he stood up and carried her toward the bedroom.
"What could you know of passion?" Simon whispered and deposited her on the double bed with the rose-patterned quilt. At that action, one puzzling thought pierced her nervous though eager anticipation: How did Simon know which bed was hers and which was Bridie's without asking her? Maybe he'd simply made a lucky guess.
"Those fool boys you've been exposed to would never be able to rouse you; their fumbling, oafish gestures would leave you thinking lovemaking was something distasteful," Simon said, beginning to undress. Maggie quickly forgot her pique over the beds as his elegant clothes fell to the floor; she'd never seen a naked man before and her wide eyes devoured him with a virgin's curiosity.
"May I touch you?" she asked shyly, and he grinned broadly.
"You can do anything you want," Simon told her and lay down on the bed beside her.
At first timid, Maggie rapidly gained confidence from Simon's utter stillness as her hands roamed over his pale, almost hairless body. She eagerly ran her hands over the sloping, bulging muscles in his arms while her eyes feasted on the wonderful breadth of his broad shoulders. She compared the hawkish, unmistakably aristocratic features of his face to the lean powerful physique of his thickly muscled chest, flat stomach and strong masculine legs his stylish clothes had hidden away. She thought Simon looked just like the dashing knight adorning the cover of one of her library lending novels… nobility mixed with uncompromising strength.
"Don't be shy, little one," Simon murmured when her hands made an abrupt halt at his navel; her eyes bulged almost comically at the hard, swelling flesh a scant inch from her hand. Gently he grasped her hand and wrapped it around him.
"I didn't know it would be so warm," Maggie whispered, hardly aware of what she was saying as her hand instinctively tightened around the quivering, jerking flesh.
"Did I do something wrong?" she inquired anxiously when Simon groaned, and he laughed softly as he pulled her toward him.
"You can do no wrong with me, Meghann," Simon assured her, slowly pulling off the rest of her clothes. "Glorious." Simon sighed when she lay naked beneath him, and he started to caress every inch of her. Maggie moaned at each new touch and stretched eagerly to meet the roving hands and mouth that gave her pleasure she'd never even imagined.
Beyond reservation now, Maggie simply spread her legs for the tender but demanding hand that stroked warm, secret flesh she'd never even touched herself. She heard herself making deep, almost feral sounds in her throat as she felt a delightful pressure begin to build inside her. It escalated rapidly into a pulsating rush of feeling that made her scream out like a woman possessed. "Oh, yes, yes, yes, yes!"
Then she felt Simon's hand withdraw and he positioned himself between her legs before driving into her with one firm thrust that made her cry out from the unexpected pain.
The mouth that descended on hers again cut off her startled cry and she felt the sharp ache start to recede as Simon remained motionless, allowing her body to adjust to him. Then, with infinitesimal care, he began to move about very slowly, only incr
easing the tempo when Maggie's hips rose up to meet his thrusts, instinctively matching his rhythm.
"Oh," she cried softly, feeling a yearning, a need start to build as Simon moved inside her. She didn't understand what it was she wanted, what made her writhe and arch, what caused choked little cries to issue from her closed lips. She only knew Simon could somehow ease the burning pain inside her.
"Yes!" she finally screamed out, sinking her nails deep into Simon's back while her body shuddered from the force of her climax. She'd never felt anything like this sudden electrifying jolt that made her cry gratefully, "I love you! I love you so much!"
At her words, Simon's expression became wry, almost pitying, and he plunged deeper inside her; his movements so hard and fierce she actually became dizzy.
"Please stop," she gasped, but Simon refused to give her any respite. Though her body continued to respond, Maggie began to grow nervous, even a little frightened. The amber eyes locked on hers no longer seemed tender and loving—now Simon's eyes had a harsh, avid glitter that made Maggie try to pull away from him. Why did he look like that… like he was a miser about to enter a room full of gold, like a ravenous animal smelling meat?
"Please," she whimpered again as the world spun around her, and she had to shut her eyes to stop the lurching sensation that made her feel like she was trapped inside a Ferris wheel. The darkness swirled around her and the only thing Maggie was truly aware of was the ecstasy of climax after climax as Simon continued to thrust into her until a brutal, ripping pain pierced the thick fog of pleasure blunting her senses.
"No," she tried to say, but she couldn't seem to open her mouth or even her eyes to see what had hurt her so badly. She couldn't tell where the pain began, only that first there was a sharp, invasive pain like a stab wound, but then it lessened as a peculiar lassitude spread through her, making it harder and harder to stay awake.
Finally, with a supreme effort, Maggie managed to open her eyes and smile weakly at the gold eyes shining down at her. She saw the harshness that had frightened her was gone, replaced by love and something that resembled deep surprise, almost shock. She started to try to speak, to ask Simon why he looked so startled yet happy, but before she could open her mouth, Simon started to kiss her, leaving a vaguely metallic but not unpleasant taste in her mouth.