His Mistress (38 page)

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Authors: Monica Burns

Tags: #Romance, #Historical

BOOK: His Mistress
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“Trust me, Tobias.”

The quiet in her voice soothed him. This was Jane. His Jane. Tobias’ muscles tensed then flexed as her hands slid across his back. Her mouth pressed its heat into the muscles of his shoulder and then the top of his arm. A gentle hand tipped his head toward her, and she kissed him softly and with a tenderness that made his heart ache. The kiss didn’t last long, and when she pulled away, he bowed his head in hopes of finding her mouth again. It was a fruitless effort.

The exotic jasmine scent of her drifted across his senses as he waited for her to touch him again. The abrupt, loud crack of the belt behind him made Tobias start violently. Fear and self-preservation automatically made him tug at the bindings on his wrists. His head bowed, he tried frantically to rub his face against his shoulder in an effort to push the blindfold off his eyes.

Blind and unable to flee, a wild shudder ripped through his body at the touch, and he released a low pitched cry. Cold leather scraped across his back directly over his scars. The belt pressed hard against his scars before it was gone. A split-second later, her fingers traced the scars that another leather belt had made.

“He no longer has power over you, Tobias,” she whispered in his ear.

The sound of tears echoed in her words, and he blindly turned his head toward her. He bowed his head, and she kissed him again. It was a caress of deep tenderness and another emotion he was too terrified to dare hope for. The salty scent of her tears mixed with jasmine filled his nostrils, and he pulled in a deep breath. She was crying for
him
.

Once more she retreated from him, and he tensed as he waited for the sound. He knew it was coming, he just didn’t know when or from where. The crack of the belt split the air close to his back, and instinct made him tug savagely at his bonds.

“Christ Jesus,” he snarled.

“It ends here and now, Tobias,” she said with the strength that made him love her all the more. “His power over you is gone. He’s dead, and you did what you had to do.”

The cool leather of the belt scraped roughly over his scars, and the memory of the way his father had beaten him welled up inside him. Another vicious crack of the belt echoed so close to him that the sound breezed across his skin in hot puff of air. A violent shudder wracked his body. Old and all too familiar, the rage erupted from him in a wild cry of pain.

Desperate to escape the scarf binding him to the bedpost, he fought to free himself with a savagery buried deep in his soul. The silk tie only seemed to tighten as he struggled to escape and remove his blindfold. He wanted to face his fear, not have it slither at him through this darkness.

Did she have any idea of the torment she was unleashing in him? Anguish bit into him at the rage rising inside him. It was an anger he didn’t think he could control, and he could easily hurt her without his realizing what he was doing. Growling with fury he cursed his inability to tug free of the bindings.

The strength of his efforts made the bedpost screech against the wood floor, and in the recesses of his mind he realized he’d moved the bed. Soft and gentle her fingers glided against his scars, their touch a soothing caress that stirred him to the depths of his soul. His fury responded to her touch by retreating beneath his thin veneer of control.

“I’m the only one who has power over you, Tobias.” The firmness in her voice sent shockwaves through his body. “He’s dead. He can no longer hurt you.”

Once more the belt snapped viciously behind him. It was so close to his scarred back that he felt the stinging memory of a different strip of leather biting into his skin. But the belt she used didn’t touch him. It only stirred the air close to his scars leaving a hot, angry blast of air against his skin. The leather popped again near his back, and he threw his head back as a shout of rage poured out of his throat.

The bed scraped loudly against the creaking floor boards as he fought furiously to free himself. Instantly, her warm body pressed against his chest, and her hands whipped his blindfold off. Tobias blinked rapidly as his eyes adjusted to the change in light. Her hands pulled his head downward until their foreheads met.

“I’m the only one strong enough to care for you,” she said in a manner that sang sweetly to his soul. “I know every part of your heart and soul, and he can never touch you again. You’re free of him.”

“It’s not…that simple,” he rasped.

“It is,” she murmured as her fingers touched his mouth. “You’ve carried the past buried deep inside you for so long, you’re afraid that if you let it out you’ll hurt someone.”

“I could have hurt you that night at
La Maison des Plaisirs Sombres
,” his voice gravelly as he shook his head.

“You didn’t,” she said in a resolute voice. “And you won’t in the future, because with each purging of your soul, your anger will subside until the only release you’ll need will be in my arms.”

“If I were to…”

“Do you trust me, Tobias?” At her question he nodded slowly. It was the only true answer he had to give her at the moment.

“Do you trust me to be strong enough…strong enough to love you in the way you need to be loved?”

He jerked his head back in shock. She loved him? How was that possible? He’d betrayed her. Used her for his own means. Yet here she was declaring her love for him with a strength that humbled him. A knot swelled in his throat making it difficult to speak. She eyed him carefully, and he saw the flash of fear in her gaze. It was the vulnerability he’d seen in her the day he’d proposed.

“I’m not worthy of your love, Jane,” he whispered hoarsely.

“Let me decide whether you are or aren’t worthy of me,” she replied with a tender smile. “I’m simply asking you to let me love you.”

“You can’t do that,” he muttered with a shake of his head.

“It’s too late. I’ve loved you since the first time I saw you at Culverstone House,” she explained in a pragmatic tone as she untied the silk binding him to the bed. “I knew early on that if any other man had offered for me, I would have fought my father tooth and nail not to marry. It’s why I couldn’t remain angry at you for offering for me under duress.”

He marveled at the strength she possessed to expose herself and her heart so completely to him. A strength he’d not possessed until she’d shown him how. God help him, but he loved this woman enough to go to hell and back for her then repeat the journey again.

“It’s a duress I’ll never regret succumbing to,” he murmured as his hands caressed the soft skin of her shoulders. “It gave me you. I never thought I could love someone so much that I’d be willing to let them go to keep them safe.”

Jane drew in a sharp breath, and her eyes widened with disbelief as she stared into his eyes. He smiled and lowered his head to kiss her.

“Now it’s your turn to trust me,” he said with a gentle smile.

Happiness flared in her eyes until they sparkled with a joy and love he never thought to see shimmering in her dark blue gaze. Her arms slid around his neck, and she pressed her sweet curves into him. Of its own accord, his body responded to her, and her mouth curved into a sultry smile that turned him inside out then back again.

“Perhaps the best way for you to ensure my trust is to make love to me as I deserve to be loved.” At her command, he lifted her into his arms and circled the bed to set her carefully on the mattress. Kneeling at the side of the bed, his gaze met hers, and he bowed his head.

“I am yours to command, my Lady.”

“Then come to bed, my love. I need your arms to keep me warm and your body to fill me until I shatter like glass.”

Tenderly, he bent to kiss the top of her foot then her ankle and the side of her calf. He heard her sharp intake of breath with every kiss he placed as he moved his way up her leg to that spot between her legs.

“Shall I pleasure you as I have before?”

“Yes.” Her voice was husky as she met his gaze. “And when you’re done, I expect you to take your pleasure as well.”

“Yes, my Lady.”

The late afternoon sun illuminated the room with its brilliant light, but Tobias knew he would spend the rest of the day and night proving his love. But it would be the nights and days that followed this one that would continue to mend his soul. He’d won the biggest prize a man could ever win. The heart of a woman who possessed the strength to make him believe in himself and the ability to save him from his past. She was the mistress of his soul.

§  §  §

Thank you for reading HIS MISTRESS! I hope you enjoyed it. If you did, please help other people find this book:

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5.   Read on to enjoy a special preview of
LOVE’S PORTRAIT
!

Special Preview of Love’s Portrait
Chapter 1

London, 1892

“I
t’s wicked, Julia. Absolutely wicked!”

Alva’s squeal of appalled dismay made Julia Westgard smile with satisfaction. Her friend’s horrified cry was an understatement. The painting was more than wicked. It was shocking. She turned back toward the painting she’d commissioned. Tipping her head to one side, she studied it with a critical eye.

The nude painting made her look lush and sensual. Isaac Peebles had managed to make Julia look almost beautiful. Almost, but not quite. Although she did like the way the artist had captured the color of her hair. Her hair was her best feature. On the canvas, soft gold highlights spun their way through dark red hair that tumbled over her bare shoulders. Peebles had said the studio lighting had made her eyes a deep moss green, and the portrait reflected his opinion. The color made her eyes in the portrait far lovelier than the plain hazel ones she saw in the mirror every day.

“I like it.” Hands resting on her hips, she smiled with a sense of defiance. Oscar would have been horrified. No. He would have been furious, and her punishment would have been painful. Her fingers dug deep into the silk layering her hips. “I like it very much. Do you think I should hang it in the salon or the study?”

“Good Lord, Julia. You cannot
possibly
be serious!”

The appalled note in her friend’s voice made Julia turn quickly toward the petite woman. At the horrified look in Alva’s blue eyes, she realized she’d teased her friend long enough. One hand pressed against the dove gray silk of her dress, she shook her head.

“I’m teasing you. Of course, I’m not serious.”

The relief on her friend’s pale features made her bite down on the inside of her mouth. Actually, she’d been more serious than she realized. She simply didn’t possess the bravado to display the portrait. For all intents and purposes, she was a coward. The confident way she carried herself in front of her friends was nothing but a façade. Everything she said and did was a performance to cover up the inadequacies she felt every day. The shortcomings Oscar had regaled her with the entire time they’d been married.

Even though he’d been dead almost two years, his cruel taunts and behavior had left their mark. Oscar had played the impeccable, caring husband in public. Privately, he’d taken every opportunity to humiliate her. The bedroom had been the worst degradation of all. The inadequate feelings her husband had cultivated in her still ran close to the surface, but since his death, she’d done everything possible to regain her self-worth. It was one of the reasons she’d commissioned the nude portrait. It had been an act of rebellion and an effort to regain the uninhibited joy for living she’d lost during almost ten years of marriage to a brute.

“Ah ha, Calvert
said
I would find you here.”

Catherine Dewhurst poked her head into Julia’s boudoir. At the lively sound of the woman’s voice, Julia moved quickly to embrace her cousin. Of all her in-laws, Catherine had been the only Westgard to show her kindness when she’d married into the family. The two of them had found themselves married to men of a similar nature, only Catherine had been freed several years before Julia. Of all the people she knew, Catherine was the only one who could see beyond Julia’s false façade.

“Come see what arrived this morning.” She grasped Catherine’s hand and pulled her cousin toward the painting.

“Is it here? Finally?”

Julia nodded and smiled widely as Catherine stepped around the easel holding the canvas to stare at the painting. Instantly, color flooded her cousin’s cheek before laughter parted her lips.


Dear Lord, Alva
. However did you manage to keep from fainting?”

Clearly affronted by the suggestion that she was incapable of surviving a shock, Alva’s pale face took on a pinched look. “I’m not a simpleton, Catherine, I’ve seen nude paintings before, but this one is not in a museum. This is something quite different.”

“How is it different?” Julia straightened her back as she prepared herself for her friend’s contempt.

“Well…it’s you,” Alva said as color flooded her face. “You’re beautiful, Julia, but why in heaven’s name did you have to have the man paint you naked? It’s scandalous.”

“I don’t think it’s scandalous.”

“Rubbish, it’s shocking. Why, the man saw you naked.” Alva’s straitlaced tone sounded so much like Oscar’s. She immediately tossed a pleading glance in her cousin’s direction.

“Do try to explain to her, Catherine.”

“Perhaps she has a point, Julia. It is a bit…reckless, isn’t it?” Catherine sent her a sympathetic look. “I know you wish to free yourself from the memory of Oscar’s cruelty, but what if the wrong person saw this? What if the artist talks?”

“Other than the two of you, no one else will see it, and Peebles has been well paid to be discreet.”

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