She was almost swooning with delight as his hand roamed over her skin, down across her stomach, and she lifted her hips, inviting him to go on. Her bones had melted. She had never felt more alive, receptive to his every caress. His fingers slid between her thighs and she felt herself opening, moving restlessly against his hand as ripples of excitement began to build inside. Her own hands slid down his back. She tried to pull him on to her. He resisted, murmuring softly against lips.
‘Hush, my darling. Trust me.’
‘But I want you, Tristan. I want to be yours, completely. Oh!’
She gasped, her ability to speak suspended as his fingers drove the tide of pleasure even higher. She dug her nails into his shoulders, her body pushing hard against his hand, quite beyond her control. She bucked wildly and was distantly aware of crying out as she tipped over the edge of reason and tumbled into dizzying oblivion.
Dawn was breaking when Natalya awoke. Through the window she could see the pale grey clouds streaked with pink. She stretched and ran her hands over her naked body. She had thought by giving way to the strong desire she felt for Tristan that the yearning would disappear, but when she turned her head to look at the man sleeping beside her, the longing for him was stronger than ever.
He had brought her body alive, teasing her senses, drawing out responses she had not thought possible. And yet he had not entered her. He had held her shuddering frame until the ecstatic spasms had ceased and dried her tears when she had wept with guilt because he had put her pleasure above his own.
‘There will be time for that when we are married,’ he had told her, holding her close. ‘I will not tempt fate and risk giving you a child until you have the protection of my name and my fortune.’
She wanted him to hold her again, to bring her once more to the peak of elation, where her body was singing and she thought she might die of sheer pleasure.
Tears stung her eyes. This was not what she intended. She had believed one night with him would suffice, hoped that when she sent him away, refusing to allow him to sacrifice himself by marrying beneath him, she would have the pleasant memory of a night spent in his arms.
Now she knew that one night was not enough. A lifetime would not be enough.
Tristan stirred. He reached out for her, murmuring her name. Natalya summoned up a smile, but she was not quick enough. His gaze sharpened and he searched her face.
‘What is it love, what has upset you?’
‘Nothing, mere foolish fancies.’
She burrowed close, breathing in the musky scent of his skin, trying to memorise the faint trace of citrus spicy fragrance. She would discover the name of that perfume and buy a small bottle. A reminder of Tristan. He hugged her to him.
‘Are you regretting what we have done?’
‘Oh, no, no!’ She gave a little sob and clung tighter.
‘You are worried for the future, then? You must not be. I shall marry you as soon as it can be arranged, you have my word on that.’
When she did not reply he held her away a little. ‘Did I frighten you, is that it? You did not enjoy it—’
‘No, no, you are quite wrong,’ she told him, blushing. ‘I—I enjoyed it a great deal. It was so much more than I had expected.’
‘I am very glad about that.’ He drew her close and kissed her. ‘Perhaps we should do it again, just to make sure.’
Her insides curled with pleasure as his hands began to roam over her body. She returned his embrace eagerly, pushing aside her fears for the future and abandoning herself to the present, until his caresses drove all coherent thoughts from her mind.
Chapter Thirteen
When they sat down to breakfast together, Natalya struggled to smile as Tristan outlined his plans for their future. She would not have been surprised if he had been reluctant to marry her, after she had thrown herself at him so wantonly. Even if her behaviour had not repulsed him, once he learned the truth about her birth he would realise she was not a fit wife for him. And if he did not see it immediately, his friends and family would soon make the matter plain.
He was sitting opposite her and she watched him closely, devouring the sight of his lean, handsome face. He was smiling and looking more relaxed than she had ever known him.
He thinks he loves me, she thought sadly. He is still caught up in the passion of what has happened, but that cannot last. Eventually it will fade and he will see me for what I am, a baseborn impostor whom he cannot respect. Then his passion for me will die and I could not bear to see that.
Tristan was refilling their coffee cups. He said, ‘I shall speak to Pridham today, as soon as we return, to assure him I mean to make an honest woman of you.’ He reached across the table and took her hand. ‘Where do you wish to be married, in Bath? Or there is a pretty little church near Dalmorren Manor, my house in Sussex.’ He laughed. ‘We might even be married in London, if you wish to cut a dash!’
‘Ah, stop. Please, stop!’ She forced out the words before her voice was choked with tears.
In an instant he was at her side, pulling her up out of her chair and into his arms.
‘Natalya, my love, what is it?’
She clung to him, her face buried in his shoulder. ‘My aunt and uncle might not consent.’
He stroked her hair, a gesture that she thought might break her heart. No one had ever shown her such tenderness before.
‘You are of age
