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“To what point?” When he remained silent, Ria waved a dismissive hand in the air and said, “The problem is that even though I am a widow I do not want to have an affaire.”
“Why not? Have you ever had one?”
Taken off balance, she blinked and cleared her throat, “Well, no, but…”
“Then how do you know until you try?” He had clearly regained his equilibrium.
She took a deep breath and seized her own back. “So I should have an affaire with you as a sort of trial to see if I like it?”
He smiled wickedly. “Who better than someone who is a devil with women?”
“Is that really a good recommendation?” She struggled to contain her mirth. Their highly improper conversation was definitely appealing to her sense of the ridiculous.
“Would you like me to obtain written letters of endorsement from my previous paramours?”
He probably would too! “No, thank you.” Ria responded primly. “I don’t believe that will be necessary.”
“Then perhaps this will convince you.”
Taking her hand, he slowly unbuttoned her glove. Holding her startled gaze, he lifted her hand to his mouth and blew softly on the pulse.
She involuntary jerked at the sensations such a small gesture invoked. Just as she realized she should be trying to pull away, he blew on her wrist again and then kissed it.
Ria sucked in her breath as ripples flowed up her arm and down her body. She felt giddy. How could such a small touch affect her so?
She watched in a daze as he slowly did up her glove.
He then looked back up at her and said, “I suppose the question you need to ask yourself is, what is the harm?”
“What is the harm?”
The question continued to haunt Ria long after their walk ended. As she lay in bed that night, she listed the reasons why she could succumb.
She was a widow. She could please herself. Truth be told, she wanted once again to experience the sensations he’d stirred within her at the masquerade.
Badly.
The night of the masquerade, something had awakened inside her. Something she hadn’t known existed.
If she wanted to have an affaire, he was the perfect candidate. This was Luc, after all. She wasn’t going to fulfill her childhood vow of marrying him, but this way she could have part of him, however briefly.
He did not live in the area. She’d already been intimate with him. He was gentle and considerate and an experienced lover. Very experienced.
She refused to think about how, where, and from whom her Luc had gained that experience and instead remembered the masquerade.
He had known how to caress her—how much pressure to use, where to touch. Ria whimpered as she remembered him nibbling her leg just above the knee.
From there he had nibbled his way up the rest of her leg. Just when she’d thought she could bear it no longer he had touched her between her legs.
Restlessly she shifted in the bed. Uncomfortable, she turned to lie on her back. That brought back memories of him as he lay above her.
His gaze had been intent as he sought entry. The fire and candlelight created shadows that, combined with his intensity, cast off his façade to show not an elegant gentleman but a marauder.
Suddenly overly warm, she pushed down the bedcovers, leaving only the sheet to cover her.
She had known from the look on his face the moment he realized she was a virgin. Felt his hesitation. Concerned he was going to withdraw, she had started to plead with him, but then he continued. The pain hadn’t been quite as bad as she’d expected.
And once the pain had gone… oh my.
