Reluctantly, Catherine eased herself from Adrien’s arms.
Scooping up her chemise, she threw it on, quietly dashed from the bedchamber, softly closing the door behind her. She got three steps into the antechamber when she heard a woman’s scream.
Catherine closed her eyes. Too late.
Wrenching open the door, she ran back into the other room.
Odette stood beside the bed with her hands covering her eyes. Adrien was sitting up, a murderous look directed at her maid, clearly irked by her presence and the way she’d startled him awake.
Why couldn’t the woman have used the door in the antechamber, as was her practice, rather than the bedchamber door?
“Odette,” Catherine said.
Upon hearing her name, her maid dropped her hands. Her gaze shot to Catherine. “I—I’m sorry, madame. I—I had no idea you had . . . company.” She glanced at Adrien, let out a squeak, and slapped her palms over her eyes once again.
Adrien rolled his eyes and reclined into the pillows.
From Catherine’s vantage point, he was a sight to behold. His dark hair was mussed, his sculpted chest was bare, and the bedding lay tantalizingly across his waist—the outline of his shaft visible to her hungry eyes.
This was a first. She, Catherine de Villecourt, had never had a man with such potent appeal in her bed.
Stop ogling. Collect yourself. Say something.
She formed a smile. “Good morning, Adrien.”
The wicked gleam in his eyes made her knees weak. “Good morning, Catherine.” Oh, the way he said her name. She felt a quickening in her belly.
“If you will excuse me, I’ll return momentarily.” She grasped Odette’s arm. The older woman’s hands were still affixed to her face.
He slipped his hands under his head. “Hurry back.” A slight smile tilted the corner of his mouth. Those two seemingly innocuous words held such sinful promise.
“I will.” She dragged Odette toward the door to the antechamber. Tossing a glance at the older woman, she noticed her maid’s head was slightly turned toward the bed and her fingers were separated, giving her left eye a clear view of Adrien.
“Odette,” Catherine scolded in a firm whisper.
Odette’s fingers immediately closed and her head snapped forward.
The moment they were behind closed doors, Odette removed her hands from her eyes and slapped them over her mouth just as a fit of giggles seized her.
Catherine placed her hands on her hips, ready to chastise her, but with her heart so light, she found herself fighting back a giant smile.
“Oh, madame, I’m sorry.” Odette tried to sober up. “But it’s just a delightful surprise . . .” Another giggle bubbled out of her. “Your handsome Marquis looks even better abed.”
Catherine dropped her arms to her sides with a wistful sigh. “He does look very good, doesn’t he?”
“Most definitely!” Odette’s eyes widened. “And he is so big.”
“Yes, he is a tall man.”
“No, no, madame, I mean he is large.” She held out her hands several inches apart and wiggled her brows.
Catherine blushed. “Odette, really now . . .”
“There is plenty there to delight a lady.” Joviality erupted from her again. She covered her mouth once more to muffle it.
The last thing Catherine wanted to do was encourage Odette, but a full smile tugged hard at the corners of Catherine’s lips, despite herself. “There is much about him that would delight any woman,” she responded. There was much about Adrien d’Aspe that delighted her. Sinful skills, looks, and charm aside, to her surprise, he was an avid reader. He enjoyed books. He enjoyed all of the same Latin and Spanish classics as she did. Moreover, he had compassion. The understanding he’d demonstrated when she’d confided the circumstances surrounding the masquerade moved her. The kindness and interest he’d shown in her paintings touched her.
Catherine knew she was on dangerous ground. These tender emotions she felt would only bring heartache if she didn’t somehow quash them.
“I take it you’ve worked things out with Monsieur le Marquis, then?”
“Yes, we are in accord. In fact, for the next few days I need you to—”
“Say no more, madame. What happened just now will not be repeated. I’ll be most discreet and circumspect. Now, go on. Enjoy your handsome Marquis.” Odette rushed to the door leading to the hallway, then stopped and turned with a smile. “Madame, if I may say one last thing before I go?”
“Of course. What is it, Odette?”
“I’m so very happy to see you like this. If you could only see your face . . . It is aglow. And your eyes sparkle as they never have before.”
Three days later.
The scent of jasmine lingered on his skin as Adrien strolled back to his rooms with a smile. Memories of the last few hours making love to Catherine ran through his mind. He’d awoken her that morning by gently sucking her clit; the friction of his tongue and the pull of his mouth as he alternated licking and suckling her sweet bud had sent her straight into a strong orgasm.
Each afternoon they’d sneaked back to her chambers. Each morning he left her rooms later than the day before.
The fact that he stayed the night—every night—was novel in itself. He found himself anxiously awaiting their next private moment. The next stirring kiss from her luscious mouth.
He couldn’t remember a time when he’d enjoyed a woman’s company more. Deliciously sensual, intelligent, beautiful, and brave, she was a breath of fresh air in his stifling world.
Catherine was different from other women. Everything with her was different. He wanted to know more about her and about her interests. Seeing the happy glow in her amber-colored eyes as she spoke of her painting and her favorite books pleased him more than he could ever admit. This level of intimacy was new to him, and he didn’t know why or how she’d inspired it.
He refused to dwell on his unprecedented actions or try to decipher the meaning behind them. They had two days and nights left. He wanted to revel in every moment with her. Stay in the present and not consider the future when she left.
Thinking about Catherine back in his arms in a few short hours quickened his heart. His smile grew. He had a plan for this afternoon he knew would delight her.
Reaching the door to his chambers, he opened the latch and entered his rooms. Charlotte was seated near the window. She rose as he closed the door.
“What are you doing here, Charlotte? You have your own private apartments.”
A smile formed on her face. “Your bed hasn’t been slept in.”
“So?”
“So, you’ve been entertaining Catherine de Villecourt.”
He sighed, resentful that his genial mood was about to be threatened. “Charlotte . . .” he began and tossed his justacorps onto a nearby chair.
“You’re doing admirably! The plan is working beautifully.”
Adrien took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, grasping for patience. “I am not doing ‘admirably.’ There is no plan. I’m not going to be part of your scheme, Charlotte.”
“Ah, but you are.” She walked up to him and placed her hand on his arm. “I’ve seen the way she looks at you in the gardens, at each meal, when she thinks no one is observing her. She’s quite smitten.”
“Catherine is not the problem. Whether she marries Baillet or not, it won’t change your situation.”
“It will! Philbert wouldn’t be so distracted . . . Things between us will be as they were before.” Her eyes glistened with tears. “I already lost Jean-Paul. His death almost killed me. I cannot lose Philbert, too.”
“Charlotte, you are looking for someone to blame for Baillet’s disinterest, but the reality is—”
“Stop!” She pressed a trembling hand against his chest. “I don’t want to hear any more. Philbert still loves me. He does! You’ll not convince me otherwise. You don’t know him as I do.”
“Charlotte, if he loved you, no woman co
uld distract him, ma chère. Don’t you see that?”
“Wh-Why are you being so cruel?” Tears spilled down her cheeks. “Why do you want to hurt me? Just because you’re not happy, you don’t want me to be happy.” She ran to the door, audibly sobbing.
“Charlotte, wait! That’s not it. I want your happiness.”
Grabbing the door latch, she threw him a vicious glare. “I hate you, Adrien,” she cried. “I hate you.” She ran from the room as if he were Lucifer himself.
Adrien remained frozen, the air around him suddenly heavy and cold.
Sinking into a chair, he rested his elbows on his thighs and shook his head. Merde, how had things come full circle? How many times had he heard one of his uncles have the very same conversation with his mother? How many times had his mother reacted just as Charlotte had? There was no point chasing after Charlotte. She’d be inconsolable for hours yet.
Tossing his head back, he closed his eyes and took in a fortifying breath. This was what happened when one blurred the lines between sex and love. A mistake he’d never make. The soft sentiments he was feeling for Catherine had to be reined in. Kept in check.
She was his temporary mistress.
In two days she’d be gone. In two days he would have satiated himself. He had two more days in which to purge her from his blood and mind. He couldn’t, wouldn’t, crave her or think of her after that.
With renewed determination, he stalked out of his rooms intent on making afternoon arrangements with his lovely midnight temptress.
In his experience the only thing that cooled a carnal fever was sexual excess.
9
“A few steps farther,” Adrien said behind Catherine, his warm hands covering her eyes.
Trusting him implicitly, she moved forward, letting him guide her blindly.
“Perfect.” He arrested her steps and pulled his hands away.
She opened her eyes and grinned, ridiculously happy over the sight before her.
In a clearing, beneath a large tree, in the forest that bordered Suzanne’s grounds, a blanket had been spread, encircled by flower petals of white, yellow, and lavender. A basket of food had been placed nearby.
A picnic.
It was lovely!
Catherine turned and wrapped her arms around his neck.
The gray skies overhead let out a grumble.
She ignored the distant thunder. This moment was too perfect. Keeping their encounters secret hadn’t been easy. He’d gone to such touching lengths to make these preparations.
“You planned all this for me.” It was a statement. She was incredulous.
“Of course.” He was smiling. “You’re pleased?”
She gazed at his beloved face. “I am. Thank you. No one has ever done anything like this for me before.”
He pulled her tightly against him, his erection pressing against her. Arousal flared low in her belly. “Well, then, I’m honored to be the first.”
Oh, he was her first in so many ways. Her first lover. The only man to inspire her affections. She’d tried to fight her feelings with all she possessed, telling herself the joys he brought her were only physical. That she wasn’t in love with him.
All unconvincing lies.
In truth, he’d slipped inside her heart—years ago. The times she’d spent with him were the happiest she’d ever known. But time was running out.
Glancing up at the sky, she was dismayed by the threat of rain in the darkened clouds. The day had started out sunny, but the sky became angrier as the hours passed.
“Forget the weather,” he said. “We’ll not allow anything to ruin our picnic.” He gently brushed an errant tress from her cheek. “Now, where were we . . . Ah, yes, you were voicing words of appreciation for my efforts.” He gave her one of his disarming smiles. “I am open to any and all expressions of gratitude, you know.”
She laughed. “Are you now?” The cheeky devil oozed charm.
“I am,” he assured. “However, I am happy to provide nourishment first.” He nodded toward the picnic basket.
“That’s excellent. I’m starved . . . for you.” She caressed the side of his face.
Hunger flickered in his eyes. He leaned in for a kiss, sliding his tongue past her lips. Waves of pleasure flooded her body at his possession. His kiss was heated, yet unhurried and tender, resonating inside her heart.
Raindrops hit her shoulders, despite the leafy canopy overhead. She didn’t care, refusing to break contact with his mouth. She wanted more. Of him. How was she going to live without him again? He made her long for the things she used to dream about. Romantic notions of loving and being loved.
The sky rumbled. More raindrops struck her heated skin.
Adrien broke the kiss and swore at the inclement weather brewing in the clouds, its quick turn for the worse dampening their plans.
She reached for the ties on his breeches. “We’ll not allow anything to ruin our picnic.” She repeated his words.
He frowned. “It’s raining, ma belle.”
“It doesn’t matter.” She pulled his shirt out from his opened breeches. “Take this off.”
He gave her one of his heart-fluttering smiles and removed his shirt, tossing it onto the blanket. His thick, hard cock strained out of his breeches.
A steady drizzle now fell from the sky. She watched with heated fascination as water droplets hit his chest and rolled down his skin, dripped off his stiff sex.
Desire swamped her senses. She had to touch him. Curling her fingers around his shaft, she stroked him, moving her hand languidly up and down his length.
He groaned. His mouth was on hers in an instant, his skilled fingers pulling and loosening and opening the front of her gown, exposing her to her waist.
Cool rain against her warm breasts was startling. Exhilarating. His hot mouth latched on to her breast. He sucked greedily. Each tantalizing pull dragged a moan up her throat and made her sex wetter. She arched to him, her fingers tangling in his damp hair. He turned to her other breast and feasted on it with equal finesse. Suckling. Laving. Gently biting. Her legs almost gave way.
The moment his mouth returned to hers, she kissed him voraciously, trailing her mouth along his jaw, down his neck, his chest. His wet skin was delicious. But it wasn’t enough. After a night of oral pleasures—not to mention the morning, too—she had to taste him again, hungry to have him in her mouth. Only two days left to create memories she’d cherish for a lifetime. Then he’d be gone for good. She pushed back the sadness and regret and lowered herself to her knees.
His eyes narrowed, knowing exactly what she was about. She looked up at him, rain on her face. His dark hair wet, he fixed his green eyes on her. Holding his gaze, she gripped the base of his erection and brushed her lips across the sensitive tip. His breath hitched. Reveling in his heated response, she swirled her tongue around the head of his penis.
“Catherine,” he rasped, his fingers gripping her head.
Impatient, she plunged him deep into her mouth. A throaty growl erupted out of him, his hips jerking slightly.
“Dieu . . .” Adrien had to close his eyes, his head falling back. If the feel of her sucking his cock weren’t enough, the sight of her submissively on her knees pleasuring him was too much. “I love your mouth,” he groaned. It took everything he had not to grab her hair and thrust like a madman. Instead, he let her dictate the pace.
His ragged breaths mingled with the sounds of rain. The cool raindrops teeming over his bare chest and arms were a magnificent contrast to the heat of her mouth. She drew him in and dragged him out, tender, yet ravenous—so uniquely Catherine. She had him on fire, as always.
Every fiber of his being was acutely aware not only of the sensations inundating him, but of the very woman inspiring them. He was going to come. Hard. Soon. But not this way. Not this time.
Opening his eyes, their gazes locked. She slid him out of her mouth and licked off the dab of pre-come that dripped from his tip. Strands of her auburn hair were plas
tered to her shoulders and wet creamy breasts. Gently removing her hand from his cock, Adrien lowered himself to his knees, the blanket wet, and cupped her face.
She furrowed her delicate brow. “Have I done something incorrectly?”
“No, you were perfect.” She was, in every way that mattered. Everything a man could want and more.
And he wanted her—too much.
Threading his fingers through her wet hair, he ran his tongue along her bottom lip before giving her a long, languorous kiss. A shiver of delight quivered through her.
“I want to make love to you.” He sat down on the blanket, not caring that it was soaked. “Come here.” His voice was rough with need.
The sweetest smile graced her lips.
A few easy movements and his auburn beauty was straddling him. She slipped her arms around him. Her breaths were sharp and shallow, much like his own. A surge of emotions he couldn’t quell crested over him.
Jésus-Christ, he simply had to break this infatuation. What if he couldn’t? What if years from now he still felt this constricting ache in his chest?
Adrien shoved away the doubts, and her gown, bunching the material around her waist. He then gripped her hips, intent on refocusing on the carnal pleasures at hand.
“I am all yours,” she said softly, placing her hands on his wet shoulders.
Her words unbalanced him.
She was not all his, he quickly reminded himself. Even if he wished it at the moment. In time the feeling would pass. He wasn’t going to do anything to hold on to her or deviate from old patterns and familiar ways.
She rose up and brought her slick opening down onto the head of his cock, the enticing heat beckoning and beguiling. Her pink nipples, at mouth level, dripped with raindrops.
Adrien leaned in and licked the water droplets off each sensitive tip.
She moaned and then suddenly bore down onto his erection. Clutching her hips, he halted her descent. “Too fast. Take it slowly.” Adrien eased her onto his cock, her moist heat engulfed him an inch at a time.
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