A Scandalous Proposal by Julia Justiss Page B

“Emily, sweetheart, don’t ever regret this,” he murmured as he slid his hands over the slick satin of her hips, her breasts. She cuddled into him and he massaged her shoulders and back, reveling in the sheer sweet pleasure of touching her.
    She stretched out, languorous as a cat, one soft leg draped over his. After a few moments, her relaxed, even breathing told him she slept.
    Though there was no need, he continued to gently stroke her. He felt a deep satisfaction that, this time, he had undeniably given her pleasure, and a sense of awe at the intensity of the pleasure she gave him.
    He ought to wake her, let her dress him, take his leave. He never spent the night with his mistresses; once the loving was finished, he was usually eager to be off.
    It seemed in this, too, being with her was different, for he had not the slightest desire to stir from her bed. There was utter contentment in holding her silken body close, watching moonlight play across her face.
    She looked peaceful now, and happy. That was how he wanted her to be when she was with him: safe, content and satisfied. ’Twas his last thought before he, too, drifted asleep.
    When later he woke, pink dawn painted the sky beyond the balcony. Emily, clad in a dressing gown, sat beside him on the bed.
    Seeing him stir, she smiled. “Good morning, my lord.Should you like coffee before you go? Francesca has some ready, as it’s almost time for us to be in the shop.”
    He nearly groaned with frustration. Though ’twas not much later than he sometimes returned from a night’s ramble, she was a businesswoman, and must rise early. Her subtle hint warned him ’twas too late for any further dalliance.
    She seemed matter-of-fact now, both sadness and contentment gone. “No, I suppose I’d best be going,” he replied, still strangely reluctant to leave. Nonetheless, he let her help him into his shirt. As she buttoned it, he bent and pressed his lips against the softness of her neck.
    â€œOh, Emily,” he whispered.
    She stilled. Then, somewhat awkwardly, she put her arms around his neck and drew him close.
    After he’d dressed, she walked him downstairs, through the office and out to the front door.
    â€œLock it well,” he admonished as she slid the bolt open. “Shall I see you tonight?”
    She angled her head to look up at him. “If you wish.”
    â€œYou know I do. Emily, sweetheart, I can’t dissemble about how much I want you.” He laughed shortly and ran a hand through his tousled hair. “I expect that’s only too painfully obvious.
    â€œIt may be foolish,” he continued, “but I would wish for you to want me, too. If you do not, I can respect that.” He managed a grin. “I cannot like it, but I’ll respect it. Unless you truly wish it—” he forced the words through reluctant lips “—I’ll not return.”
    Despite that show of nonchalance, his pulse stampeded and sweat broke out on his forehead as he awaited her response.
    She smiled faintly, and he began to breathe again. “I wish you to return as often as you like, for as long as you like.”
    An upsurge of joy brought the grin back to his face. “Rest assured, I shall thoroughly enjoy coming at every opportunity! But be cautious what you wish for. Were I to visit as oft as I’d like, you’d have me underfoot constantly.”
    She merely smiled, and he bent to give her a lingering kiss, which she returned, he thought, with some enthusiasm. “Until this evening, then.”
    Before he could pull away, she stopped him with a touch to his cheek. “I’d forgotten how beautiful loving can be,” she said softly. “Thank you…Evan.”
    His spirits soared to the rooftops. “Call upon me at any time.” Giving her one last kiss, he forced himself to exist. A few steps down the sidewalk, he turned to look back. She gave him a little