Read Online The Master & the Muses by Amanda McIntyre - Free Book Online Page B

said bravely.
    â€œAs you wish.” He grinned.
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    I was living a lie, but to whose benefit? For two months, I had been telling Madame Tozier that my stomach was the cause of the many afternoons that I had asked to leave the shop early. However, as my acting skills grew weaker, the actual pains in my stomach increased. I found myself losing track of the days, and on more than one occasion I had nearly taken too much of my medicine, forgetting when I last took it. I could not sleep.
    William’s aloof behavior pervaded my mind. Since our liaison, he had not attempted to speak with me except in passing and was usually absent when I was at the studio. At night my mind would creep back to that summer afternoon, how the soft warm breeze had wafted over our fevered bodies. I lay on my bed, mesmerized by the flickering flame of the oil lamp beside my bed. I remembered his tongue, the roughness of his hands gliding over me, plucking my nipples until I begged for more. Desperate to recapture that euphoric feeling, I used my hands to imitate his, brushing my fingers through my soft curls and spreading my sweet crevice, mimicking the exquisite pleasure he’d given me. I licked my dry lips, arching my back to the memory of him heavy inside me, his body pressed to mine. In my mind, I saw the sweet determination in his gentle eyes, our bodies fused in delicious, slick friction. Then my body broke free, my muscles caressing, squeezing around him.
    I stared at the flame, drawing my hand over my stomach, my physical need now satiated. Nevertheless, I held on to the desperate longing for his affection, realizing with chilling clarity that perhaps he did not feel the same. I’d even written a poem for us called, Another Time, Another Place, and slipped it into William’s coat pocket hoping he might respond, but if he found it, he made no mention of it.
    Â 
    It was of little surprise to me when William entered the studio one afternoon and announced his departure.
    â€œWell, I’m off soon. My train leaves within the hour.”
    â€œYou’re leaving?” I rubbed the back of my neck, stiff and sore from sitting too long. I bowed my head so he would not see the disappointment in my eyes. “Thomas didn’t mention it.”
    â€œIt’s just a short trip to Rome. I plan to tour a few cathedrals and perhaps a garden or two in search of inspiration.”
    â€œBe cautious of those beautiful gardens, Will. Some of their caretakers do not appreciate foreigners plucking them,” Thomas said with a smirk.
    It was evident he was speaking metaphorically of women. Ibrushed his comment from my mind, rubbing my arms under the sleeves of the itchy damask gown that Thomas insisted I wear. The two brothers embraced and William gave me a tight smile. “Miss Bridgeton.” He nodded.
    â€œMr. Rodin.” I continued the appearance that we’d never been intimate with each other. If he could perform the task so well, I could, too. After William left, I followed Thomas out to the balcony. We stood watching his carriage amble down the cobblestone street.
    â€œI miss him like the devil when he’s gone,” Thomas said quietly.
    He sighed and wrapped his arms around my shoulders, resting his chin on my head.
    â€œIt’s just you and me now, Helen. He’s gone and left us behind while he trots off on a new adventure.”
    â€œDoes he take these trips often?” I asked. The warmth of Thomas’s arms made me feel secure. It was his nature to be physical—he was prone to giving hugs and pecks on the cheek, even to the other men in the brotherhood.
    He lifted aside my unbridled hair and nuzzled the sensitive spot beneath my ear.
    â€œWhen the spirit moves him. I prefer to find my inspiration closer to home.” The smell of wine wafted beneath my nose as his palm moved over my right breast, squeezing gently.
    â€œAre you inspired, my muse?” he whispered against the