“Surely, you know how much I admire what you’re doing,” she told him, stung. “Brookhaven is such an incredible place. What you’ve done there is truly exceptional. I would never do anything to jeopardize all your hard work.”
“I know you wouldn’t.” He set his mug of chocolate aside and grasped both of her hands, angling his body to close the space between them. “I do trust you, Vanessa. I just don’t know why, and it scares the hell out of me. I’ve been so careful for so long, but with you, I’m tempted to throw caution to the wind. I’m tempted to take off this mask and expose myself to you in every possible way.”
He was close enough that the light from the fire caught his eyes. They were definitely blue, the deep color of a cloudless sky, framed by impossibly long dark lashes.
“I would never betray you,” she breathed. “I just want to see you. I want to know everything about you.”
“Not tonight,” he told her in a pained voice. “Perhaps next time?”
“Next time,” she agreed, determined not to let her disappointment show. She knew how much he risked. If he were to reveal himself to her, she could easily trade the information to Scotland Yard. Trust had to be earned, and she was determined to earn his.
They were sitting so close, their knees touching, his hip pressed against hers. Very improper but wonderfully intimate. He smelled of the rain and something far subtler and masculine. She longed to simply turn her face against his chest and breathe him in.
“Do you trust me?” he asked gently, cupping her face with his hands and gazing deeply into her eyes.
“Yes,” she whispered, excitement ricocheting within her. Was he going to kiss her again?
“When you were making the chocolate, I had a sudden, vivid memory of my mother and father. I was just a child when he died, but I remember how much they cared for each other. In the evenings, they would cuddle up together on the sofa while she read aloud and he rubbed her feet.”
“Do you want me to read to you?” she asked hesitantly, surprised by his request.
He nodded emphatically. “I can think of nothing I’d like better than to sit here with you for a while, listening to the rain and the sound of your voice.”
“And you’ll rub my feet?” she asked daringly, charmed by the picture of domestic harmony he painted. She’d never imagined married people doing such sweet, mundane things together.
“Of course.” He grabbed the novel she’d been reading earlier in the evening off the table and handed it to her. “This will do.”
She took the book with a nervous laugh. “All right. If you’re sure.”
“I’ve never been so sure of anything.” He reached down and grabbed her feet, swinging them up into his lap, turning her a bit so that her back was against the arm of the sofa and she was facing him.
Her bare feet settled against his slightly damp trousers, but she could feel the heat of his body beneath them. Desire flared deep within her. She’d only had one lover in her life, and it had been a dreadful mistake. But somehow she knew that if she were to let this man in her bed, he would never disappoint her.
His warm hands closed over her left foot, and his thumbs pressed deep against her arch, making her emit a small, inarticulate sound of pleasure.
“Read,” he reminded her, as he continued his exquisite torture.
The words swam before her on the page, but she somehow managed to make sense of them. She would never remember what she read. All she could focus on was the warm, insistent pressure of his hands on her skin. The man truly was a magician. She’d never imagined how decadent a foot rub could be.
On chapter two, he switched to her other foot. On chapter three, his hands strayed to her calf, massaging the muscles as he worked his way up her leg an inch at a time. She became very aware of the fact that there was nothing to hinder his continued exploration and also that he was monstrously aroused. Her voice trailed off as her gaze settled upon his erection. If she moved her foot just a few scant inches to the left, she could press her sole against it.
Obviously realizing what she was staring at, he made a soft, tortured sound. “I didn’t mean for this to happen, but from the moment I touched you, I couldn’t control it. I want you, Vanessa. I want you so damned bad.”
“I want you, too,” she admitted, feeling as though she stood on a precipice. “It frightens me.”
He released her foot and scooted back, putting a bit of space between them. “The last thing I wanted to do was frighten you.”
“It’s not you who frightens me,” she hastened to reassure him. “It’s me. I’ve never felt like this before, not about anyone. But I don’t even know your name, and until I do, I can’t give myself to you. Not fully.”
His hands lifted to his mask in what seemed an involuntary movement. But instead of taking it off, he fastened it more securely. “I’m sorry. And I understand. I honestly do.”
He started to move off the sofa, and she surprised them both by stopping him with a hand on his chest. “You can kiss me,” she said, amazed by her daring. “Please kiss me again before you leave.”
A husky laugh escaped him, and the sound struck a chord deep in her heart because she knew how seldom he let himself feel happiness. She wanted to hear him laugh again. She wanted to make him laugh all the time.
“Let’s make it count then, shall we?”
Before she could answer, he bent forward and scooped her into his arms, arranging her across his lap so that she faced him with a knee on either side of his hips. He was still hard, and she melted as she pressed against him, imagining how wonderful it would feel to have him inside her.
