the sudden lump in his throat.
Still dazed and confused by the intense experience, Cathy shook her head.
‘You didn’t?’ he murmured mockingly.
‘Oh, yes, I did—of course I did.’ She wanted to fling her arms around his neck. She wanted to cover him with a million little kisses of gratitude for making her feel that way, but she didn’t dare. ‘It was…oh, it was the most incredible experience of my entire life.’
He smiled. Her unqualified praise was rather touching, because all women thought it—even if few were gauche enough to express it so fulsomely. ‘That is what was making you so…argumentative,’he observed reflectively. ‘You should have an orgasm every time you have sex.’
Cathy cringed, the baldness of his statement shocking her—though not quite enough to pull away from his embrace—telling herself that at least nobody could accuse him of being a hypocrite. And then her attention was caught by the unmistakably hard outline which was apparent beneath the rich fabric of his satin robe and as their eyes met in silent acknowledgement she found herself blushing.
‘Yes,’ he agreed, as if responding to an unspoken question. ‘I want you very much indeed—but I have to be at a meeting in…’ he flicked an impatient glance up at the clock which hung over the beautiful marble fireplace ‘…just under an hour…’ his voice lowered ‘…which means there won’t be enough time.’
He thought that if she had been more experienced there would have been plenty of time. By now she would have taken the initiative and he would have loved nothing more than to see her on her knees in front of him. Pleasuring him with her lips while he tangled his fingers in the pale silk of her hair and fulfilled the very first fantasy he’d ever had about her.
And that was when a solution presented itself to him—a solution so perfectly simple he was amazed he had taken so long to getting around to it. One which would please and satisfy them both—but would also wipe the slate clean.
Because in a crazy way, he felt responsible for what had just happened. He would never have taken her so swiftly and perfunctorily if he had known she was an innocent. To be truthful, he would not have taken her at all. But he had and—while he had just shown her how pleasurable certain aspects of sex could be—she still had a lot to learn. And shouldn’t he be the one to teach her? Might that not more than compensate for the fact that he had unwittingly taken her virginity?
Abruptly, he turned his back on her—went to look out over the sweeping grounds. He noticed that the lawns which swept down to the lake were ragged at the edges, and that the lake itself looked clogged with debris. Encroaching weeds had made a mockery of the flowerbeds and some had even disappeared completely.
Had he been crazy to come up with this scheme—to uproot his New York life and establish himself in a brand-new part of the world? Yet his father’s death had unsettled him—made him aware of the impermanence of life and the need to chase your dreams.
Turning back to face her, he was aware that at least his arousal had subsided and was grateful for the fact that she had grabbed the coverlet and had slithered it over the enticement of her curves.
‘I need to get showered and dressed,’ he said shortly.
Hearing the abrupt note of dismissal in his voice, Cathy eyed her discarded uniform doubtfully, realising that she was going to have to leave here in a completely dishevelled state. What if she bumped into one of the other staff—how on earth would she be able to explain her appearance? ‘I’ll—’
‘You can use the bathroom after me,’ he said. With an effort, he flicked her a glance—barely able to look at her tousled golden beauty lest it make him break his resolve and go over there and ravish her. He smiled with predatory pleasure. ‘And I want you to be ready at eight tonight,’ he added softly.
Cathy’s heart missed a beat; she thought she must be imagining things. Was he asking her out on a date? ‘To-night?’
‘That’s right. There’s a party at the polo club—what they’re calling a low-key celebration of my successful takeover—and you’re coming with me.’
She stared at him incredulously. ‘B-but, why? I mean, why me?’
His eyes narrowed. Was she really as disingenuous as she seemed? Didn’t she realise that even a man of his calibre found her tight, lush body irresistible? Up until now those sinful curves had been woefully under-used—but not for much longer.
‘These occasions are always easier if you have someone beside you to deflect some of the inevitable attention—and also, I intend taking you to bed afterwards,’ he drawled, and his eyes glittered her a silent, sensual message. ‘But neither of us should forget that you are completely untutored—and royal princes expect their mistresses to be skilful.’
Cathy’s pulse rocketed as one word reverberated over and over again. ‘Mistress?’ she gasped.
‘I rather think what we’ve just been doing qualifies you for the role, don’t you, Cathy?’
‘I… I don’t know what to say,’ she breathed.
‘Then say nothing. Women usually say far too much when they would be better remaining silent and simply looking beautiful.’ He glittered her a look. ‘And beauty is marred by too much make-up—so please don’t wear quite so much in future because I can assure you that I don’t find it attractive.’
‘That was…that was Rupert’s idea,’ she blurted out.
‘Oh, was it?’ he questioned thoughtfully as he studied the too-sooty eyes and suddenly her tarty transformation began to make sense. What a creep the Englishman was! ‘Well, from now on—you will take instruction only from me in the best way to present yourself as my mistress. You show great potential for the position, cara mia. I should never have taken your virginity—indeed, you are the only virgin I have ever bedded—and that cannot now be undone. But perhaps I can in some way redress the balance.’
Cathy stared at him, her heart pounding wildly, her mouth drying. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘Why, in return for having robbed you of your innocence, I intend teaching you everything I know about the art of love-making.’ He gave a slow and provocative smile. ‘And that way, we can call it quits.’
THE violet shadows of evening were lengthening and the fading light seemed to pick out the brightness of the flowers which were packed so tightly into the small garden. Xaviero paused, his eyes narrowing as he took in the unexpected kaleidoscope of colour which appeared before him.
The path leading to Cathy’s cottage was lined on either side by the purple haze of lavender and tall delphiniums which stood like cobalt arrows against the grey flint of the garden wall. Creamy-pink roses scrambled over a trellis—while blooms which looked like bells and others which resembled stars all jostled and billowed for space in the flowerbeds. And everywhere there were drifts of scent—some subtle, some powerful but all of them beguiling to his senses. It was a place of real beauty, and of calm.
For a moment he lingered there, his senses drinking in the extraordinary peace of the place as he realised that his expectations had been confounded. Hadn’t
