Read Online The Flesh and the Devil by Teresa Denys - Free Book Online

finished, breathless and
flushed, he only said,
              'You mistake, madam. I rather applaud your wisdom than
upbraid you for too much worldliness. But this high tone will not answer when
you are the Duquesa de Valenzuela.' His tone hardened slightly. 'You must learn
the wisdom of silence. It pays better, I can vouch for that.'
             
             
             
              'I shall speak as I please — '
             
             
             
              He shrugged his shoulders, his face impassive. He had been
standing motionless, arms folded and long legs easily astride, and she realized
that he did it to diminish his impossible height, to lessen the unease of the
little people he talked to. But even as she thought it, he straightened; before
she could retreat his hands were heavy and overpowering on her shoulders, and
his tall, powerful bulk was breathtakingly close. She heard him say above her
head, 'Then you must be taught discretion,' and then one arm closed round her,
his free hand gripping her jaw as if she were a recalcitrant mare. His long fingers
splayed across her cheek in an outrageous caress, and then her head was jerked
back and his mouth claimed hers before she could utter a word.
             
             
             
              She felt the ridge of his scar like a brand against her
lips, lifting their softness, but after the first moment individual sensations
were lost in an overwhelming tide. Juana could not remember being so close to
another human being in her life — she could sense the hardness of bone and
muscle against her, the heat of flesh, the bruising pressure of buttons and
buckles through the silk of her robe. The strength of his arms threatened to
crush her bones, and she was choking with fright and desperation as he lifted
his head.
             
             
             
              For the merest instant his eyes probed her face, then he
murmured, 'That for the Duque — this for me,' and gathered her still closer
against him.
             
             
             
              The quality of his hold had altered; what had been an act
of aggression, all the more brutal for its cold-blooded calm, had become an
unhurried, sensuous invasion that took her response with leisurely skill. His
fingers twined in her hair, holding her mouth against his, while his lips
lingered on hers subtly and tantalizingly, coaxing and yet commanding.
             
     
             
              For what seemed an eternity Juana was powerless in his
arms, and when at last he released her she swayed, gazing disbelievingly at the
hands that had lifted as if to encircle his neck. Her breathing ragged in her
own ears, she said in a voice that was close to breaking, 'If you do not go I
shall have you flogged!'
             
             
             
              'Who will you command to do it? Your loving betrothed?'
             
             
             
              There was a strange note in the level voice, but she did
not heed it; she was looking anywhere but at him and closed her eyes as she
glimpsed his towering reflection in the long glass, so close to her own frozen
image. Drawing a long breath, she said in a gasp, 'For God's sake leave me
before I sicken! You have delivered your message.' She added stiltedly, 'I had
rather have a toad near me.'
             
             
             
              For a long moment Tristán stood still, looking down at her
with a sort of cold fascination in his eyes; an intent, almost scientific look,
as though the very force of his will could compel her to look up at him again.
He had caught his breath, and a muscle moved in his scarred cheek before he
bowed punctiliously, said, 'Your servant, madam,' and left