The Baron's Lady - Intro, Part Three

Contains adult content...

As night fell, Isabella was secluded in her chamber, resting on the pelt in front of the fire. She had turned away her maid-servant and other attendants, feigning illness. She feared they would look at her and see the turmoil in her eyes. They would look at their mistress and see that she had nearly succumbed to temptation.

But more fearful still was another thought…that they would see the longing that was now so very clear. She felt as though it was written in her every feature, there for all of the world to see. Clutching a wrapper tightly around herself, she trembled, despite the warmth of the fire. It had been hours since he had kissed her and held her, but she could still feel the heat of his lips and the solid strength of his body. She had never been so close to a man of such lean muscle and heated skin. God knew her husband had never felt like that, the few times they had been together. And Gilbert had only kissed her once, on their wedding day. He claimed to be revolted by the thought of two people’s mouths touching, and at the thought of it, she could not help being amused. What an imbecile he was. After the kiss she had shared with Rene, she could not see how anyone would be revolted by such an exhilarating act. It was sinful, yes. But now that she had discovered such sensation, she craved more of it.

She sighed, thinking that if nothing else, she would have pleasant dreams, and that was for the best. In dreams, all was safe, no matter the subject matter. Rising from the floor, she turned towards her bed…and gasped in shock.

There he was, sitting on the floor in front of her terrace doors. She took several fearful steps backward, but he only smiled at her nervousness.

“Good evening, my lady.”

Her response was swift. “What are you doing here? How did you get in?”

“I have my ways,” was his sly response.

“Be gone,” she demanded. “You cannot be here.”

He shrugged. “I thought perhaps you would like my company.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but her tongue failed her at that very moment, and he seemed to sense that her defenses were weak. He slowly stood, walking towards her, and she backed away. Her escape was impeded when the back of her legs hit a chair, and she nearly fell into it. But she managed to remain on her feet, rushing behind the piece of furniture so that it stood between them. His voice was as smooth as his approach as he came closer.

“You need not fear me, Isabella.”

At the use of her Christian name, rather than her title, she felt a strange tremble. Without touching her, he was stripping away the boundaries between them. And heaven help her, she knew it was impossible to resist him. He had come here to seduce her, and they both knew he had succeeded. But she had to resist until the last, even if her words held no meaning. As he came closer, standing there so close that their bodies were nearly touching, she uttered a whisper of protest.

“Why do you do this? Why can you not leave me be?”

Slowly, he reached for her hand. She made a weak attempt to pull it back, but he clutched softly it in the warmth of his grasp. The low, warm hum of his voice made her knees feel weak.

“I have tried to resist.” Lifting her hand, he brushed his lips to her skin. “But you fascinate me. You are a constant in my thoughts.”

They were nose to nose, so close that their breathing mingled, and as she closed her eyes in anticipation, his lips found hers. At first it was soft, gentle, and achingly sweet. Her fears eased away in only moments, and when his arms slowly moved around her body, she found herself cautiously pressing against him, testing the limits of her own daring. It felt so wonderful, so thrilling. So right. With growing eagerness, she let her arms return his embrace, and as a strange hunger grew within her, she pressed her lips more firmly to his, as if to silently plead for more. When he obliged her, tenderly parting her lips, she thrilled at the new sensation of truly tasting a kiss for the first time. She heard herself uttering strange little sounds. She was whimpering, she realized. God in heaven, he was stirring things in her that she had never known of before. And she wanted more.

When he gently broke the kiss, she felt a brief moment of disappointment. Until he kissed the bend of her neck. A pulse of fire flooded her body, and she was thankful that he was embracing her, for she was certain her legs were incapable of holding her up. His words only inflamed the sensation.

“You are a goddess, Isabella.”

She felt his hand at the base of her spine, pulling her tighter against him, and when she felt the evidence of his desire pressing against her belly, she instinctively pushed her hips against him. For a moment, she was lost in a whirlwind of pleasure. Until his palm cupped her breast. The sensation was exhilarating, shocking…and frightening. Gilbert had never laid a hand upon her in such a manner. Fear and uncertainty suddenly gripped her. She tried to pull away.

“I cannot…”

She grappled with her words, the spell of desire dissipated by her awkwardness. But Rene’s words were tender.

“He has never touched you in this way?”

Embarrassment flooded her, turning her face a deep shade of pink. She tried to turn away. But Rene gently cupped her face, forcing her to look at him.

“Do not feel shame,” he said. “If you are unschooled in the art of love, you must not blame yourself.”

Her pride, though slightly week, came to her aid, restoring her power of speech. She removed his hands from her face, feeling powerless when he held her that way. Her eyes lowered.

“I am not so unschooled,” she declared. “My marriage was consummated, and the proof is writ in the heir I bore for my husband.”

At the thought of her only child, she felt utterly ashamed that she had allowed so much between her and Rene. She tried to push him back.

“You have a son?” he asked, his tone too gentle for her liking.

“That is not your business,” she said, a sharpness to her tone. But Rene was tender.

“Very well, then. We will not speak of him.”

He brought his lips close to hers, attempting to kiss her again, but she tried to turn her head away. He responded with a gentle but firm embrace, pulling her into his arms.

“You want me, Isabella. As I want you. Let go your inhibitions, and you will find paradise.”

Before she could protest, he was kissing her again, and the flame that had momentarily dimmed quickly sparked anew. Their kisses grew deeper, their embraces stronger, and before she realized what was happening, they were lying on the pelt in front of the fire. She gasped at the feeling of her nightgown hem rising, and his hands slowly but surely following. His fingers grazed her skin, seeming to leave a trail of fire. Inside herself, she felt her feminine muscles pulsing with anticipation. But in her exhilaration, there was a tinge of fear. For a moment she became tense, fearing the hurt that had always come in those rare times with Gilbert. But her husband had never done what Rene was daring to do. His hands were touching her legs, and then her thighs. She closed her eyes as overwhelming pleasure took her over. She waited for the moment when she would feel his body joining with hers. But shocking feelings burned through her when she felt his fingers, touching her in a way she had never known a man could touch a woman. She tore her mouth away from his, gasping for air, and then she felt as though she was being hurled skyward. Lost in the wildness of sensation, she cried out in exhilaration.

Slowly, she fell back to earth. As she struggled to catch her breath, she felt Rene’s eyes upon her. Looking up at him for a moment, she was overwhelmed by all that she felt, and she tried not to look at him.

“What have you done to me?” she asked, still breathless. And he smiled at her.

“I have pleased you, my lady. And yet, it is but a taste of things to come. Shall I kiss you again?”

She could hardly find words to speak, and before she could protest, his mouth was on hers. This time, his kiss was more urgent. She was stunned at the feeling of not just his lips, but the rough, velvet sensation of his tongue tasting her. His hands tugged at her nightgown, and shyly, she began pulling at his clothing as well. When their clothes were finally discarded, she felt the familiar feeling of a man’s weight on her body. But now, she welcomed it. He moved with such strength, and yet such tenderness, careful not to hurt her, even as he became one with her, and gave her mindless ecstasy a second time. As they lay together, with only the sounds of the crackling fire and their hurried breathing, his tone was almost a whisper in her ear.

“Do you wish me to go?”

Without thinking, she clung tighter to him. The time for common sense had long since passed. Lost in a daze of joy and passion, she could only think of what little time they might have together, before dawn brought back the harshness of reality. The night was theirs, and she wanted to linger in every moment.

“Stay,” she replied. “The morning is far off.”

His laugh was softly triumphant. “As you wish, my lady.”

*****

Isabella slowly came awake. For a few glorious moments, she stretched her limbs and delighted in the magnificent feeling of contentment flowing all through her body. Looking around, she realized she was no longer on the floor pelt, but in the bed. The fire had dimmed. And Rene was stretched out beside her.

Before she could take a moment to admire him, fear came over her.

“Good Lord,” she whispered out loud. What if Therese came in and found them? What if any servant came in, for that matter? Throwing back the coverlet, she started to rush for the door. But a hand reached out to hold her wrist.

“The door is bolted. There is no danger.”

His reassurance, softly spoken, hardly eased her fears. And as she grew more awake, regret inevitably came forth, causing her to shift uncomfortably. Pulling her hand from Rene’s hold, she turned away from him and curled up on her side, pressing her cheek to her pillow. A tear slid down her cheek, and at the sound of Rene’s voice, she closed her eyes, as if she could somehow convince herself that none of this was real.

“Isabella?”

She did not answer him. As she silently wept, she could find no words, and the gentleness of Rene’s words only wounded her more.

“Do not cry, my lady.”

A sniffle escaped her. “How can I not?”

There was a long moment that passed in silence before he replied.

“If it eases your hurt, you are permitted to condemn me. I will endure your hatred, if it means your suffering is lessened.”

How was she to hate him? He had been nothing but splendid in his treatment of her. He had taken her to heights of such joy. Whatever his true nature, whether he truly cared for her or thought only of himself, she could not bring herself to place blame on him. In truth, she could only find fault with herself.

“It is I who must be condemned,” she replied, “And I alone must be the hand of it. I am weak, and an admitted fool.”

When she felt the warmth of his hand, gently rubbing her shoulder, she gave a shuddering sigh. His touch was both a painful reminder of their mutual sin…and a reminder of how easily he could rouse her passions. And yet, he did not make an attempt at seduction. His method was to touch her heart, by offering comfort.

“You are not a fool, Isabella. It is not a foolish thing to crave love and human kindness.”

She could not help herself. Turning her body, resting her head against the pillows, she looked up at him as he leaned over her. As he gazed down at her, he touched her face, grazing her cheek with his fingertips.

“There are so many definitions of love. And while we may not give our hearts to one another, we might enjoy the physical pleasures of love, without the trappings of matrimony or the burden of loyalty.”

There was something marvelous about his carelessness look on things. And yet, it troubled her. Looking into his lovely green eyes, she wondered how she could allow herself to be so easily used.

“Are you loyal to no one?” she asked.

He gave her a slight smile. “I find it best to be of most concern to myself. It is a matter of survival.”

His arrogance was so clearly expressed, and without remorse. It made her frown in anger.

“Am I merely a pawn, then?”

His amused expression was hardly surprising. There was a light of such mischief in his eyes, she could feel her coldness melting away at the sight of it.

“If you are my pawn,” he said, “Then I am yours. Do with me as you will, my lady.”

He was an unrepentant devil…and utterly irresistible. She made one more attempt, however weak she knew it to be, to resist his lure.

“What if I wish you to go?”

He replied with a shrug. “Then I will consent.”

Such easy compliance confused her. Until he moved in such a way that his body was no longer at her side, but pressed against the entire length of her. In an instant, she felt the first flickers of rising desire.

“If you wish to be rid of me, I will go. But did you not beseech me to remain until morning?”

When he gently pushed his hips against her, letting her feel the heat of his arousal, she responded with only a soft moan. She closed her eyes, giving in to the hot, intense rushes of pleasure.

“There is nothing so wondrous as the human touch,” he softly said. “The pleasure. The power.” She gasped as he pushed into her, vanquishing the emptiness. His tone became a rasp as his breathing intensified. “Such power is in your hands, as well as mine.” He guided her arms around him, and without encouragement, she pulled him closer, clinging to him. When his hands grasped her legs, drawing them up, she entwined them around him, and she felt him penetrating deeper into her. He ravished her mouth, hotly, and she hungrily kissed him back. She lost herself in the madness of their coupling, forgetting all but the feeling of his powerful body claiming hers. When the last wave of sensation crashed over her, she wept with joy, shattered. Holding to Rene, she let him take her with him as he rolled to his back. She clung to her lover as she fell asleep, regret banished by the volatility of passion.

*****

In the darkness of the night, Isabella found an intimacy she had never known before. Not just in the sharing of pleasure, but in sharing intimate words with a man who listened to her thoughts and fears. And he was not afraid to speak of himself. She learned that as a young man of fifteen, he had briefly lived in a house of ill repute. The thought of it was both shocking and scandalously fascinating. He swore that most of the “ladies” were only friends…that they found him too young for their tastes. But one of them had taken a liking to him and given him a thorough education. She did not know if he told the complete truth, but it seemed not to matter. However he had come to be a rogue, he was a genuine one. And she could not find it in her heart to hate him for it.

Just before sunrise, she woke to find him sitting beside her. He was looking down at her with a most tender smile. But seeing that he was fully dressed, she frowned, and a strange pain tore at her heart.

“I must go before I am discovered,” he said.

The thought of his leaving, and the realization that their night was over, drew unexpected tears to her eyes. When she brushed her finger over her cheek to dispel the moisture, he spoke gently to her.

“Do not be sad. We have shared a delightful evening. Let us part on terms most pleasant.”

After such a night, she could find no regret in her heart, and without shame, she looked at him with a desperate hope. “You will not return to me?”

He sighed, shaking his head. “I do not think it wise. We have already risked much. You more than I.”

Angered not so much by his answer, but by the unfairness of life, she muttered bitterly.

“By seduction, you captured your prize. Now the game is done, and your interest wanes.”

In his usually flippant way, he smiled, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Have I spoiled you?”

Angry tears spilled down her cheeks. “Yes. And now you will abandon me.”

“I must think of your well-being, Izzy. I do not wish to put you in danger.”

Izzy. He had dubbed her that at some point during the night, and hearing it again, it only fed her desperation. He had nourished her starving spirit, and she was not yet prepared to lose him. Sitting up, still wrapped in the bed linen, she put her arms around his waist and leaned her cheek against his shoulder.

“Grant me just one night more. Please. Just one, and then I promise, I will come to my senses and give you up.”

She felt his intake of breath. There was a note of hesitation in his voice.

“You truly are a temptation.”

A moment passed, and she was terrified that he would deny her plea.

Damn you, she thought. Do not suddenly become noble. Not now. But a moment later, he gently held her back so he could look at her. He smiled with a look of promise.

“I will come to you tonight,” he said. “But now, I must go, before the cloak of darkness can no longer disguise me.”

He kissed her softly, but much too briefly. Before she could protest, he made his escape, vanishing through the softly billowing curtains of the terrace. She slowly fell back against the pillows, and quietly, she wept at the loss