her cheeks had reddened with embarrassment.
“Yes, I understand,” he said, with feeling. He knew there were men who took their own pleasure, quickly, without a thought for their ladies’ comfort or enjoyment. He’d never understand why. Leisurely, playful lovemaking made the final climax all the more worthwhile. But now, when he looked at Diana, lovely nervous Diana, he found himself seething with rage against the man who had used her so cheaply.
“I have vowed never to marry again,” she said. “I cannot bear the thought of being so controlled again by a husband. But I have never known . . . tenderness . . . from a man. And I wish to. I have heard that you can be very tender, and . . . kind.”
She looked at him, seeming half frightened, half hopeful. The slightest breath of a breeze brought her scent to him, sweet and elusive. Lord! What was he going to do? It was if a feast had been placed before him, but he knew he should not partake.
“You know who I am?” he asked, struggling for control.
“Yes,” she replied in her mysterious, low voice. “You are Lord Debenham.”
“Can you tell me your name?” he asked. “Can I see your face?”
“No—please!” she begged, raising a protective hand to her mask.
Diana was so very agitated. Reminding himself again of Harry and the wager, Julian fought down the urge to take her in his arms, and cleared his throat.
“Diana, your husband was a damned fool. You are so beautiful, and you deserve so much better. But this isn’t the right place, nor am I the right man. I am sorry, more sorry than I can say. There are reasons why I can’t do what you wish. Please understand.”
She had watched the earlier part of his speech with a hopeful expression, but as he concluded, her shoulders began to shake again.
“Oh dear, I knew I could never do this correctly!” she exclaimed, burying her face in her hands.
Damn! He’d made her cry. This was unbearable. He pulled off his helmet, sidled over on the seat, and put his arms around her. He loved how she felt: the warm, velvety skin of her bare arms, the firm-soft feminine body leaning towards him enticingly. She laid her head on his shoulder, but trembled as he gently stroked her shoulders. He ached with the desire to soothe her timidity, and to teach her the pleasures she asked for, pleasures that would surely exceed anything she could possibly imagine.
“Diana, you are irresistible,” he said hoarsely.
She raised her head and looked up at him, moonlit eyes glittering strangely through her mask. They seemed to be pleading with him - for what? To be gentle? He would be.
“Don’t be afraid. I would never hurt you. Do you believe me?”
She nodded, her lips parted invitingly.
With that, the last shreds of his self-control disappeared.
He bent his head down toward her, and noticed she was holding her breath. She was nervous, and more than ever he was certain it was the first time she’d done anything so bold. He had to make this right. He wouldn’t hurt her for the world.
Suddenly he froze. He’d said almost the same thing about Harry.
He released Diana and sprang up from the seat. “I can’t do this. I can’t!”
“What have I done wrong?” she asked. “Please, tell me what to do and I’ll do it. I may never have such a chance again!”
The frantic tone of her voice tore at his insides somehow. He knew if he stayed much longer, he might not be able to stop himself again.
“It’s not your fault, but I must go,” he said, pacing in front of her as he tried to think of something to ease her distress. “You are very beautiful and under other circumstances, I would be more than happy to do as you wish, but you see, I already love someone else.”
He stopped in his tracks, feeling as if he’d been seared by lightning. He’d blurted out the first excuse he could think of, and it suddenly struck him that it was true.
This wasn’t about the wager, or his uncles, or his estate any
“Yes, I understand,” he said, with feeling. He knew there were men who took their own pleasure, quickly, without a thought for their ladies’ comfort or enjoyment. He’d never understand why. Leisurely, playful lovemaking made the final climax all the more worthwhile. But now, when he looked at Diana, lovely nervous Diana, he found himself seething with rage against the man who had used her so cheaply.
“I have vowed never to marry again,” she said. “I cannot bear the thought of being so controlled again by a husband. But I have never known . . . tenderness . . . from a man. And I wish to. I have heard that you can be very tender, and . . . kind.”
She looked at him, seeming half frightened, half hopeful. The slightest breath of a breeze brought her scent to him, sweet and elusive. Lord! What was he going to do? It was if a feast had been placed before him, but he knew he should not partake.
“You know who I am?” he asked, struggling for control.
“Yes,” she replied in her mysterious, low voice. “You are Lord Debenham.”
“Can you tell me your name?” he asked. “Can I see your face?”
“No—please!” she begged, raising a protective hand to her mask.
Diana was so very agitated. Reminding himself again of Harry and the wager, Julian fought down the urge to take her in his arms, and cleared his throat.
“Diana, your husband was a damned fool. You are so beautiful, and you deserve so much better. But this isn’t the right place, nor am I the right man. I am sorry, more sorry than I can say. There are reasons why I can’t do what you wish. Please understand.”
She had watched the earlier part of his speech with a hopeful expression, but as he concluded, her shoulders began to shake again.
“Oh dear, I knew I could never do this correctly!” she exclaimed, burying her face in her hands.
Damn! He’d made her cry. This was unbearable. He pulled off his helmet, sidled over on the seat, and put his arms around her. He loved how she felt: the warm, velvety skin of her bare arms, the firm-soft feminine body leaning towards him enticingly. She laid her head on his shoulder, but trembled as he gently stroked her shoulders. He ached with the desire to soothe her timidity, and to teach her the pleasures she asked for, pleasures that would surely exceed anything she could possibly imagine.
“Diana, you are irresistible,” he said hoarsely.
She raised her head and looked up at him, moonlit eyes glittering strangely through her mask. They seemed to be pleading with him - for what? To be gentle? He would be.
“Don’t be afraid. I would never hurt you. Do you believe me?”
She nodded, her lips parted invitingly.
With that, the last shreds of his self-control disappeared.
He bent his head down toward her, and noticed she was holding her breath. She was nervous, and more than ever he was certain it was the first time she’d done anything so bold. He had to make this right. He wouldn’t hurt her for the world.
Suddenly he froze. He’d said almost the same thing about Harry.
He released Diana and sprang up from the seat. “I can’t do this. I can’t!”
“What have I done wrong?” she asked. “Please, tell me what to do and I’ll do it. I may never have such a chance again!”
The frantic tone of her voice tore at his insides somehow. He knew if he stayed much longer, he might not be able to stop himself again.
“It’s not your fault, but I must go,” he said, pacing in front of her as he tried to think of something to ease her distress. “You are very beautiful and under other circumstances, I would be more than happy to do as you wish, but you see, I already love someone else.”
He stopped in his tracks, feeling as if he’d been seared by lightning. He’d blurted out the first excuse he could think of, and it suddenly struck him that it was true.
This wasn’t about the wager, or his uncles, or his estate any
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