Mary Jo Putney - Fallen Angels 07 by One Perfect Rose

Mary Jo Putney - Fallen Angels 07 by One Perfect Rose

Author:One Perfect Rose
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2011-11-25T23:56:18+00:00


CHAPTER 19

Stephen sipped some wine from his goblet, his gaze on Rosalind, who sat on the opposite side of the round table. She’d brushed out her hair and left it hanging loose around her shoulders, the heavy sweep shimmering with dark gold and amber lights whenever she moved her head. Her suggestion to eat in her room had been inspired, for there was an intimacy here they would never have felt in the large dining room.

He’d asked for anticipation, and the fire-lit room was ripe with it. Every bite of food, every sip of wine, was enriched by the knowledge of how the meal would end.

He felt an absurd ambivalence about this wedding night. On the one hand, he wanted her with a fierce, unwavering hunger. He wanted to make love until they were sated, sleep the rest of the night with her in his arms, then wake and do it again.

Yet at the same time, he felt as awkward as a callow boy. Before his first marriage, he’d had the usual experiences of a wealthy young man, bedding several of London’s finest courtesans with uncomplicated enjoyment.

That had ceased when he married. Not that Louisa would have reproached him for having mistresses; she had been raised to believe that a well-bred wife should not notice her husband’s peccadilloes. But her pride would have been hurt, and there had been so little he could do for Louisa that he could not deny her his fidelity. Nor did he wish to follow in his father’s promiscuous footsteps.

It had been difficult, at first, to restrict himself to a cold and unsatisfying marriage bed. On countless lonely, restless nights, he had yearned to lose himself in warm, willing female flesh. But in time he accepted the limits of his life. After all, he was not of a deeply passionate nature, nor did he expect doing the right thing to be easy.

At least, he’d thought he was not particularly passionate. Then he had met Rosalind. Making love to her had been the most intense, satisfying experience of his life. But that had been a swift tempest of sensation, over far too soon. He intended to make sure that it would be different tonight, and whatever other nights they might have.

How well would he be able to please Rosalind? She was a sensual, responsive woman, while he hadn’t even seen a naked female body since he’d married Louisa. His first wife had found sex so distasteful that it must be done in the dark under blankets and nightclothes, and she’d recoiled whenever he had attempted anything but the most basic coupling. As a result, he was hardly a master of the subtle carnal arts.

Nor did he have much time to learn them. Though his hopes for a relatively good day had been answered, there was always pain to remind him of his failing body. He was losing strength, too. Only a little so far, but all too soon the day would come when he would be no use to Rosalind as a husband.



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