The Phoenix Of Love. Susan Schonberg

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СКАЧАТЬ finger on her lips, playfully nipping the end of it with her perfect white teeth. Then she pushed the digit more fully in her mouth, looking at the marquis through her lashes as she did. She couldn’t quite keep the triumphant smile from teasing her pursed lips.

      Traverston knew this game better than she did. His response was ruthless. Turning away from her, he replied, “I’m sure you will manage.”

      With another pretty pout, she picked up her hairbrush and began to stroke her gleaming yellow hair. The movement of her arms gave Traverston tantalizing flashes of her almost naked breasts, and he smiled to himself at the obvious ploy even while consciously resisting his body’s reaction to her.

      “It would be a shame if I had to send it back,” she finished with a seductive glance at him from the mirror.

      Despite himself, the marquis was intrigued. She seemed more resistant to the idea of his leaving than usual. They did have a good time together, true, but he sensed something more to her machinations than just another romp under the covers. What could she have planned? He smiled inwardly. She was too obvious by half. For that reason alone he was planning on giving her the congé tonight. It would be amusing to toy with her first, though. He wanted to see what petty scheme she might try on him now.

      Reaching over her to take the brush from her hand, his arm rubbed against her. He could see the excitement his touch caused her through the peer glass. Her rosy nipples had grown hard, and she squirmed with anticipation as he examined the silver setting thoughtfully. Finally he pulled a chair close to hers and sat with his knees touching her back. With slow, ponderous strokes, he ran the horsehair bristles over her head.

      Beatrice closed her eyes and gave in willingly to the seduction. She made little moaning noises with every stroke of the brush.

      Traverston bent his head forward and began nibbling on her neck. She had a lovely neck, he had to admit. Her creamy skin, soft and appealing over the graceful arch, was incredibly enticing.

      But that wasn’t all. He inhaled deeply. Her perfume was the kind that invaded a man’s nostrils. He took another whiff, its strong, heady scent yet another invitation to remain.

      Beatrice purred like a cat and reached back over her head to grab his shoulder. She angled her body back to get more of his lovemaking, turning her head to receive his lips with her own.

      After the first long, deep kiss, she murmured against his neck, “Oh, Trav. We’re so good together.”

      It had finally come. He was a little disappointed that the game hadn’t lasted longer. The chase had an intrigue of its own which he rather enjoyed. But then he pushed that thought back. Beatrice was no school miss, and he would have to be careful around her. Whatever she had in mind, she had been a long time in planning it. She must be impatient to have done with it, though, to have brought up the subject before he had a chance to take her back to bed.

      Traverston pulled back a little to look into her face. Her eyes were still closed, her lashes long and dark against the skin. As she reveled in the luxurious feel of a woman who was being admired, she purred contentedly. She kept her eyes closed and pretended to be unaware of his scrutiny.

      After a short while, she pulled him by the shoulder and back up against her lips. She licked his mouth, inviting his tongue to mingle with her own. His mouth opened obligingly, and she daringly explored the upper reaches of his mouth with a slow, heavy and suggestive movement of her tongue. He was quick to capture her lips more fully with his own, and briefly he let himself enjoy the honeyed taste of her mouth as he waited for her to continue with the verbal portion of her assault.

      “I’m so lonely without you, my love,” she murmured against his lips, her voice husky with passion. “All those long nights without you, when we must pretend indifference to the rest of the world. And so—” she kissed him more deeply before continuing “—I’ve been thinking…why don’t we make our liaison one of a more permanent nature?”

      Beatrice was so absorbed with her own desire, it took her a moment to notice that the marquis had sat back in his chair, distancing himself from her. Piqued when she no longer felt his touch after a while, she opened her eyes. The space above her was empty.

      In confusion, she turned around on her stool to look at him. Traverston’s cold expression took her by surprise. Reflexively she grasped the transparent material of her negligee more closely around her neck for protection.

      The marquis waited a moment before answering her question, his smile tolerantly amused. “You shouldn’t think, Beatrice, it’s not a chore that you’re accustomed to.”

      She pouted her lips more fully. “You don’t have to be rude, Trav,” she sulked. “I don’t see that it’s such a bad idea.”

      He laughed outright then. Her ire rose as she realized he found the thought genuinely comical.

      “Do you know why we will never marry, Beatrice?” he asked her. Then he immediately answered his own question. “No, you wouldn’t. You don’t see the things you don’t want to, love, and that’s why you’ve completely missed your target this time.”

      “What do you mean?” She had a slightly desperate edge to her voice, and Traverston understood that she was just beginning to realize that she was not going to win this particular battle.

      “We’re lovers, my dear. That’s all. Nothing more. And in about—” he glanced at his pocket watch “—five minutes, we won’t even be that anymore.” He stood up and brusquely dug through his coat to find the long slender box he was seeking.

      When he had located it, he brought the gray velvet case over to her where she sat before the mirror, and held it out to her. “Here. This is it.”

      Tentatively she took it from him, her expression confused. “I don’t understand, Trav. Haven’t you enjoyed my company these last six months?”

      “Immensely, my dear. But it’s time I moved along.”

      She opened the box and glanced briefly at the stunning diamond bracelet that lay glittering on its soft bed of velvet. Then her wide, staring eyes locked with his again. “But why leave if you like us being together? I don’t understand.”

      Traverston realized she was genuinely upset when the diamonds failed to hold her interest for more than a few seconds. He sighed and pulled over the chair he had recently vacated. As he seated himself, he explained. “It’s very simple, really. Let me see if I can put it plainly for you.” His mouth quirked up at the corner. “You’re too predictable.”

      The lady was indignant. “I don’t know what you mean.” Immediately Beatrice cursed herself. She hadn’t meant to sound so shrewish.

      Traverston laughed. It wasn’t a pleasant sound.

      “Come, come, Beatrice,” he mocked. “What did you expect me to do? Fall down at your pretty little dimpled feet and beg you to be my bride?” He laughed again, shaking his head. “Surely you know me better than that by now.”

      Beatrice looked vexed. “You don’t have to make it sound like such a ridiculous idea,” she said tartly. “After all, you must have an heir one day, and then who are you going to marry?” She sneered. “Some little missish girl out of the schoolroom?” She laughed a sound almost as unpleasant as the marquis’s. “No, you are right, Trav,” she agreed. “I do know you. You’d never marry some milk-faced puling little brat.”

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