And it did, bursting upon her like an explosion of little fireworks. Awash in pure sensation, she lost herself in the sumptuous feelings that flooded her body.
When she could breathe again and floated back down to earth, she found herself still cradled within Foster’s strong arms. A sense of peace and belonging overcame her and she sighed deeply in contentment. She could stay like this forever.
Instead she squirmed around so she was facing him.
He grinned at her in satisfaction. “I love making you feel that way.”
“I love that you can make me feel that way.” She smiled back before kissing him on the mouth. His tongue entered her mouth and they lost themselves in the passion of their kiss. He pulled her tighter against him and she thrilled to the feel of his body against hers.
“You’re like a beautiful mermaid in here with me,” he teased.
“A mermaid who is here to serve you,” she replied with a saucy tilt of her head, while fishing around in the tub for the lost cake of soap. She made a show of looking for it by touching just about every part of him in her search, splashing and causing them both to laugh. Finally she found the errant soap near the drain. She positioned herself between his legs. “I think you need a little cleaning up, sir.”
“If you must,” he admitted with feigned defeat.
Practically floating across the length of him, hovering over him, the water in the deep tub covered almost all of her. Indeed, she did feel a bit like a little mermaid. She certainly didn’t feel like herself. Yet nothing she had ever done in her life felt more real than being with Foster like this. She began to run the soap along his chest, her fingers splaying through the dark hair that lightly covered him. She’d never been this intimate with anyone, and the act of cleansing someone seemed almost sacred, pure somehow. Her eyes were drawn to his. He looked at her with a mix of adoration and desire. How she loved to make him happy!
“Well, I believe you’re cleaner now.” She playfully kissed the tip of his nose.
Skimming her hands across the expanse of his chest, she then moved lower, down his abdomen, to the protrusion between his legs. Slowly she ran her fingers over the smooth shaft, encircling him, caressing him with the soap. He groaned with pleasure and closed his eyes while she stroked him, up and down, down and up. Being a quick learner, she knew how to touch him now and it excited her to make him feel as wonderful as he made her feel.
She noticed that with a flick of his foot, he pulled the chain that held the stopper in the drain and the water began to slowly recede from the tub. She continued to stroke him with her hands, admiring the contrast of silky softness and firm rigidity at the same time.
As the water continued to empty, he opened his eyes. “Stand up,” he commanded, his voice a bit raspy.
With shaky legs and careful maneuvering, they both stood in the tub. He turned some of the knobs and suddenly warm water began to rain down upon them from the shower nozzle above the canopy. He pulled her close to him as the water rinsed the soapy suds from their bodies. She wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to him.
The water cascaded over them, binding them together. They kissed as the stream washed over their faces. The pleasant sensation and the warmth of the water, the press of their naked skin, created a new wave of desire coursing through her. She loved him so much. Loved that they were sharing this experience together. She wanted to love him as he had loved her.
Mara pulled away, wiping the water from her eyes, grinning. Carefully she lowered herself until she could take him in her mouth. As the water spilled down her back, soaking her hair, she began to run her tongue along the length of his shaft.
“Mara.” He groaned her name as he held the walls of the canopy to support himself. His entire body tensed.
Loving the power she felt at giving him pleasure, she continued to move her mouth over him, in and out, as the water fell over them.
“My God,” he cried, pulling away from her, breathing heavily. He reached for her, bringing Mara to her feet. Holding on to her, he turned the water off. He pulled her close for a hard, passionate kiss. “I need to be inside of you. Now.”
His words caused her heart to pound and her body to grow tense with desire. “I want you inside of me,” she whispered back.
He stepped from the tub and grabbed a thick towel from the hook on the wall. He wrapped it around her. She soaked up the warmth of the towel and his arms around her. He lifted her easily from the tub and carried her to the bed with quick steps. They were both still wet and slick as he laid her down on the covers, tossing the towel to the side. He climbed on top of her, positioning himself between her legs.
Foster brought his mouth down over hers, possessing her, claiming her in a heated kiss. He entered her quickly and with hard, need-driven thrusts. She was ready for him, greedy for him, and eager to feel him within her. This was what she had wanted all night, what she had craved all week, and what she had longed for all the time they had been apart. Mara needed this connection with him.
She gripped his muscled arms, holding on as he drove himself in and out of her. Again, time slipped away and her whole focus became the two of them alone and the passion that they shared. The passion that consumed them both.
Words were unnecessary now. They knew what the other desired. They knew what they needed and how to get it. She raised her hips to his, meeting his thrusts, as her need for him grew. That deep ache within her demanded its release as the pressure mounted.
In a frenzy of clasping hands, slick bodies, eager mouths, hot breath and driving thrusts, they both gave in to the surging passion that overwhelmed them.
Mara cried out as the waves of pleasure poured over her once more. Foster continued to move against her with forceful thrusts, becoming more frantic, before he called her name and pulled out from her just as he found his own release. Collapsing beside her in the bed, now damp from their bath, he breathed heavily.
Mara’s breath too came in gasps. She slowly regained her senses as she lay on her back. Luxuriating in the sated feeling that now enveloped her, she could not move a muscle. She was content to stay in that bed with him forever.
“Well, the bath and the shower were a wonderful surprise,” she whispered.
“I thought so,” he said with great satisfaction.
After some time, he raised himself and rested on his elbow, his head against his hand, looking down at her. “You make me happier than I ever dreamed I could be, and I love you more than you know, Mara Reeves.”
Mara reached her hand up and touched his cheek, which was rough with the beginning of stubble. She slowly ran her fingers along his jawline, admiring the coarse feel against her skin. “I love you so much, Foster. And I’m glad that I make you happy, because you make me happy.”
“You deserve more than I can give you, sweet Mara.” He smiled at her. “But I’m changing all of that.”
“What do you mean?”
“Never mind, for now,” he answered. “I’ll let you know when the time is right. Now let’s finish drying off and get some food into you.”
“I couldn’t eat a bite,” she said, rolling over and snuggling into the blankets. She didn’t want to move from the bed. “I’m completely sated.”
“Well, I’m starving, missy.” He grinned wickedly. “Being with you works up my appetite.”
“For more than food, I would imagine.”
He swatted her bottom playfully. “Yes, my appetite for you is much greater than food. But I’m a man, and a man must eat sometime. Come join me.”
“I suppose so.” She sighed heavily, reluctant to leave the warmth of the bed. The room was chilly and her hair still quite damp. But she draped a small blanket around her and made her way back into the bathing room to clean herself up a bit.
“I’ll stoke the fire and warm up the room for you,” he called to her.
Alone in the bathing room, Mara stared at her reflection in the mirror. With her dripping hair and wearing nothing but a blanket, she
thought, I am a mistress.
Although she didn’t look as she imagined a mistress would look. A gentleman’s mistress would be very sophisticated and worldly. She would be beautiful and seductive. Mara was none of those things. She looked rather like a plain woman with wet hair and wide eyes. Albeit a well kissed, thoroughly loved woman with wet hair and wide eyes.
She looked a bit mad, actually. But then, she would have to be more than a bit mad to knowingly enter into this relationship, to willingly become Foster’s mistress, wouldn’t she?
So this was it. This was to be her life. Secret nights, clandestine meetings, skulking around under the cover of darkness. Never being out in the open together. Never introducing Foster to her family. Never sharing how much she loved him with them. Never being with him out in the daylight. Never going to the theater or dining with friends or attending parties together.
She would only ever have a half-life with Foster. They would never live together or share a home. They would never raise a family. She would be relegated to the shadows of his life.
Wiping a tear from her eye, she knew this would be her life until the madness completely took over and he didn’t want her anymore. It would have to suffice. Being Foster’s mistress would have to compensate for the life she could never have. She had to grab happiness with him while she was able. For now she and Foster loved each other and were happy with each other.
That would have to be enough.
With a brisk shake of her head, Mara splashed cool water from the basin on her face and attempted to fix her hair, which was quite hopeless. With a last look at her reflection, she resolved not to waste their precious time together now worrying about things she could not change. It was what it was.
After finishing her ablutions, she returned to the bedroom. True to his word, Foster had a blazing fire going and had laid the food out on a blanket in front of the mantel, creating an indoor picnic.
“Come get warm,” he called. He brought one of his thick quilted robes to her and she gratefully put it on. Mara sat on the blanket near the fire, letting the heat absorb into her body and dry her hair. Foster poured her a glass of wine.
“Well, this is much better.” She sighed contentedly after a sip of the fine cabernet.
“I thought you’d like that.” Foster, wearing a robe also, sat down on the blanket beside her.
As they ate bread, cheese, and fruit and drank the wine, they talked about everything going on in their lives. She updated him on the plans for the children’s bookshop and described the perfect building they had found.
“I have some news too,” Foster said. “I went to talk with my solicitors the other day.”
“Did you?” she asked idly, staring at the flames. They always mesmerized her. That fire could invite warmth and comfort and then suddenly wreak havoc was a constant mystery.
“Yes, and I don’t want to get your hopes up too soon, but . . .” He paused dramatically. “I’m getting an annulment for my marriage with Rose.”
Mara sat bolt upright. “What did you say?”
“We cannot continue on as we have, and I cannot keep you as my mistress, Mara,” he explained matter-of-factly. “We’re bound to be discovered if we keep this up, and I refuse to let you be ruined. You deserve better. We both deserve more than this. We deserve a real life together. A marriage. A family. I want those things with you. I wish to marry you as soon as I can.”
The blood rushed from her face and her heart felt like it stopped. What was Foster saying? What was he thinking? This wasn’t supposed to happen! He wasn’t supposed to end his marriage. Oh, God, she couldn’t possibly marry him!
“Mara? Did you hear what I said?”
She stared at him and nodded her head.
He smiled broadly, his excitement evident in his manner. “I’ve left you speechless! I knew you would be happy. Lord knows I’m happy to finally end my marriage. I only wish I had done it years ago! I even went to Yorkshire this week to tell Rose.”
“You told her about me?” Mara was horrified. Mortified. This was not how things were supposed to go.
“I didn’t tell her about us or you specifically, but she did guess that I had met a woman I wished to marry. I informed her that I am seeking an annulment.”
“Whatever did she say?” Mara asked.
Foster hesitated. “Well, she was not pleased, as you can imagine. But I don’t need her permission or her consent. It’s out of her hands completely. My solicitor said I have grounds for an annulment and is putting the case together. I’m not sure how long it will take, but rest assured it will happen, Mara. And then we won’t have to hide in secret. We can be married and spend our lives together as we’ve longed to.”
Mara’s heart sank. This was what she had wanted to avoid from the start. Marriage. Children. She could never have those things, and she had believed she was safe with a man who was already married! Why couldn’t he be content to let things alone?
Foster, when faced with Mara’s inevitable insanity, would only grow to resent her. In spite of his sympathetic words after witnessing her premonition that first night, she knew it was only a matter of time before he would be embarrassed and ashamed of her peculiarity. And as her madness took more of a grip upon her, one day he would look at her in revulsion and pity. That she could not bear. And she simply could not risk passing on her illness to their children.
Mara could not speak.
“Aren’t you happy?” he asked.
He looked at her with such joy, such hope, and so much love that she did not have the heart to deny him. She smiled faintly, wishing her life were different, and nodded her head. She would gladly marry him if she could. In truth, what he was doing was for her truly touching. She never expected him to end his marriage to be with her. The fact that he wanted to marry her was quite honorable, but he would never marry her if he knew the ugly truth.
She leaned over and gave him a kiss on the lips. Then she whispered, “It’s getting rather late. I should get home.”
“I hate that you have to leave.” He kissed her back. “One day soon, when we’re properly married, we will never have to part at night.”
Again, she said not a word, for there was nothing more to say. She could never marry Foster.
Silently they both dressed and followed their routine to get her back to Devon House. He drove her in his carriage, and they kissed good night, before dropping her at the back gate of her aunt’s house.
Mara unlocked the door and slipped cautiously in through the dark kitchen, and with silent feet tiptoed up the servants’ staircase and down the hallway to her bedroom. The house was quiet, but being that it was close to three in the morning, everyone was sound asleep.
Noiselessly Mara opened the door to her bedroom, relieved to have arrived home once again without being caught. Especially looking as disheveled as she did. That shower with Foster had ruined her hair, but it had been worth it. As usual, Brighton left a small lamp burning for her. Carefully she closed the door behind her, sighed heavily and closed her eyes, leaning her back against the door.
Leaving Foster became more difficult each time they were together. She loved him so much, yet tonight he left her quite worried. If he were truly seeking an annulment, their affair was going to have to end sooner than she would have liked.
And she most definitely did not want to end things with him. Not yet.
Wearily she opened her eyes and almost jumped out of her skin when she suddenly noticed her cousin, Phillip Sinclair, sitting in a chair by the mantel, his arms folded across his chest. He did not look happy with her at all. In fact, he looked quite furious.
“Where the hell have you been?”
15
Instigations
Rose Sheridan simply would not stand for it.
She seethed with anger as she sat in a hired carriage, staring out at the large white mansion, waiting and watching.
Arriving in London a few days ago, she’d checked into the Hotel Savoy, not wishing f
or Foster to know she was in town. She had left Yorkshire the day after he had been to see her and tell her his shocking news. If he thought he was going to end their marriage after ten years, he was sadly mistaken. With all Foster’s forward-thinking ideas and visions of progress, a divorce would not be among them. Not even an annulment. Rose would not abide it.
So she devised a plan to stop him from obtaining an annulment. It was a simple plan. It was classic blackmail. She only needed to find something to blackmail him with. So she hurried down to London after him. She despised the city and it cost her quite a bit of effort to venture there. It had been an exhausting few days, but she finally believed she had something to use against him.
Rose had been correct in her assumption that he’d fallen in love with a lady!
The first order of business when she arrived in town was to meet with Briggs, the man she had hired to spy on her husband all these years.
“He’s keeping this one very secret, my lady,” Briggs said, after telling Rose he had had some trouble discovering who Foster’s current paramour was, if there was one.
Bailey Briggs was a lanky man in his late thirties with a nondescript face and average coloring, which made him an ideal investigator. No one noticed him, and if they did, they never remembered what he looked like. He used to work on the estate in Yorkshire as a coachman, but Rose had hired him to keep an eye on Foster while he was in London. He wasn’t the brightest man, but he’d done a good job for her over the years. She paid him well and he was loyal to her. Being a countess had its privileges.
And she was not about to give those up.
Briggs continued his report. “I’ve seen no woman going to the townhouse. Lord Sterling hasn’t been doing any of his usual activities, like attending the theater or out publicly with a lady. It seems he ended his affair with the actress, Annie Blake, and he purchased a townhome for her recently. Are you quite sure he’s already taken up with someone new?”
“Yes, I’m positive,” Rose snapped, irritated with his lack of information. “But this is not his usual type of harlot. I think this one is a true lady. I want you to find out who she is. Find out everything you can about her and what their plans are. I shall pay you handsomely.” She paused. “More than I usually do.”
The Irish Heiress Page 16