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Hawthorne Manor had been built around an existing structure, and some of the old secrets still remained. The cleverly concealed opening revealed a passage that doubled back behind the original wall, leading to a steep, narrow flight of switchback stairs.
Mélisande paused, holding a finger to her lips to silence his questions. She removed her shoes, indicating he should do the same. Quiet as mice, they began to climb.
Occasional openings yawned to their left or right as they continued to ascend. She led him past these, knowing that none of them led to where she wanted to be. After what seemed an eternity spent groping for footing in the dark, she turned a sharp corner and a few steps later emerged into bright moonlight.
Smiling, she turned to Alessandro. “The original owner of this house was an astrologer. He had this place built so he could watch the sky. Come and see,” she whispered, leading him across the flat expanse to the very edge.
Together, they peeked over the lip of the embrasure. Far below was the wide balcony from which they’d escaped. The massive gardens stretched out beyond, threaded by lamp-lit paths that twinkled faintly in the night. A small crowd had indeed followed them outside. Most were milling about on the balcony, but a few were determinedly headed to the garden bowers, presumably hoping to catch them in a tryst. No one seemed to be making for the secret stair.
Mélisande waited, nearly bursting with the excitement of their escape. After so long, he was here, in the flesh, the only man who’d ever made her feel completely alive.
Turning to face her,
he bowed. “You, dear Countess, are a caution. Frightened the devil out of me, running into the wall like that. How on earth did you know it was there?”
“A servant showed it to me years ago when I summered here with my parents as a child,” she laughed. “One day I grew bored and decided to explore it. I’m glad I remembered it, and extremely glad it wasn’t sealed off.”
“As am I.” He sauntered over to where she stood. “I looked for you, you know. I searched for you for days, asked after you everywhere. You simply vanished. I wondered at times if I’d conjured you in a dream.”
“I am quite real, I assure you.”
“Are you?” He leaned closer. “I’m afraid I shall have to prove it to myself.”
What began as a gentle kiss rapidly turned incendiary. Enfolding her in his arms, Alessandro claimed her mouth and branded it as his.
He was everything she remembered and more. His hands were sure, his skill at arousal undeniable, but the desire that awakened in her was more than the result of a confident touch. She’d been kissed before and it had been, for the most part, pleasant enough. But only Alessandro seemed able to incite this maddening hunger.
Mélisande melted into him, molding her every curve against his hardness.
Her skin tingled as his hands roamed across her back, his palms traveling slowly down until they cupped her bottom, pulling her hard against him. There was no mistaking the urgency of his desire. A rush of heat enveloped her, tightening the pit of her belly. With a throaty chuckle, she brushed the tip of her tongue against his bottom lip, tasting him.
Backing up against one of the crenellations that decorated the manor, he sat in the sill of one, pulling her onto his lap. Delicately, he caressed the line of her jaw and neck, running reverent fingers down to brush the tops of her breasts, slipping beneath to cup his palm around the side of one. His thumb grazed her nipple, sending tiny streaks of lightning pleasure straight to her core.
His hand left her breast to meander lower, fanning out over her belly to press against another sensitive mound. She whimpered with delight, arching upward to meet his touch.
Gathering her skirts, he slid one hand up her stockinged leg, burning a slow trail up to the secret place between her thighs. Gently, he nudged her legs apart, and Mélisande felt him slip between her slick folds, finding with unerring accuracy the little jewel nestled at the fore.
Mélisande cried out, rendered mindless, boneless—shameless. When he inserted a single digit into her dampness, her breath burst forth in a short gasp followed by a long, feral moan as he courted the gem of her womanhood with consummate skill, bringing her to the brink of ecstasy.
A new, delicious tension began to build. Time stretched into infinity as the tide ebbed and flowed within her, increasing in intensity with every passing moment. Warmth tingled throughout her whole body as the sensation mounted.
Though she craved the touch of his hand, it left her feeling somehow incomplete. She wanted more. Before she had time to process that primal thought, however, her body convulsed in a paroxysm of undiluted pleasure. Wave after wave of it washed over her, until she thought she might drown.
Alessandro’s mouth swept down to muffle her outcry as she quaked and shivered in his arms.
A strange, warm languor gripped Mélisande as he slowly removed his hand and peered down at her, his eyes gleaming with triumph. Gazing back up at him, the irony of her situation struck her with something akin to hilarity. I am my mother’s daughter after all. She looked to the source of her pleasure: handsome, intelligent, exciting—a cheerful seeker of pleasure. He pretended nothing to the contrary, openly enjoying his delinquent life.
The idea that had begun to form in her mind became more appealing with each passing moment. Maman had said that love and passion were two entirely separate things. Never would she be so foolish as to give this man her heart, but with him as her guide...he would be the perfect instructor, allowing her to enjoy learning the ways of pleasure without risking emotional entanglement. And once her thirst was quenched and their attraction had run its course, they would both be free to do as they pleased.
Could she? Ought she? She was so weary of playing it safe, and of suffering endless disappointment. After what had just happened, she knew she was very tired of being a virgin. Looking at Alessandro again, she made a decision. He would do quite nicely indeed.
“May I inquire as to your sudden smile?” Alessandro asked. “I would like to assume I am the cause of it, but something tells me otherwise.”
“I’m simply amazed at how Fate has delivered to me exactly what I desired,” she replied, nestling into him and tilting her head back to gaze up at the stars.
“How so?” he ventured, wrapping his arms more closely around her.
She smiled, enjoying how his embrace drove away the encroaching chill. “I once vowed I’d never act rashly out of passion, and yet here I am on the roof with a notorious rakehell and my skirts tossed up. And I feel no shame—not even the tiniest shred. What does that say about me?”
