His Lady Mistress by Elizabeth Rolls Page A

To starve? Or worse?
    His conscience, which had never taken much interest in his dealings with the fair sex, pointed out that what he was about to propose definitely came under the heading of Worse . Worse than death, in fact. The devil it does! I’m not planning to rape her!
    He planned to seduce Selina. Gently. And make sure she had everything she could possibly desire. His blood burned at the idea of teaching her a few things he doubted she had the least idea of desiring. How could she after Godfrey? Best to lead up to it gradually.
    ‘Selina—where will you go?’
    Puzzled grey eyes met his. ‘Go? What are you talking about, my lord?’
    Patiently he said, ‘When your mistress dismisses you. Sheis unlikely to give you much of a reference. Do you have somewhere to go?’
    ‘Somewhere to go?’ He saw her swallow convulsively.
    ‘Yes. I—’
    ‘She won’t dismiss me.’
    Max, cut off before he’d fairly started, blinked. ‘Pardon me?’
    ‘She won’t dismiss me.’
    Unable to believe that she could mean it, Max pressed on. ‘Selina—don’t be foolish. Have you thought of another position? Another…type of position.’ His cravat was about to strangle him, and the puzzled look she gave him made it worse. Damn! Why was offering a carte blanche suddenly so hellishly difficult?!
    ‘No. I have no references. But she won’t dismiss me.’
    He stifled a crack of laughter. References? He’d never asked for references. All the references he required were flitting around the room before him, tidying away quills, books and a battered globe. Abandoning that tack, he asked gently, ‘Sweetheart, what do you want?’
    She turned, eyes wide. ‘Why did you call me that?’
    He didn’t know. He’d never called any woman sweetheart . But it felt right. It fitted. ‘What do you want?’ he repeated, sticking to the point. Seeing the puzzled frown deepen, he added, ‘Generally, from…from life.’ Where in Hades had that come from? He knew what women wanted. Pretty, fashionable clothes, jewels, a carriage, masculine attention, all the usu—
    ‘A family.’
    ‘A… what ?’
    She flushed and turned away. ‘You needn’t mock. I know it’s impossible. But you asked.’ The break in her voice rocked his world on its axis.
    He said carefully, ‘You want children?’ His mistresses had, one and all, taken whatever precautions could be takenagainst that catastrophe. A mistress who wanted a child? Deep within something tightened.
    She didn’t answer, but started dusting. He frowned. That was something she wouldn’t need to do again.
    ‘Selina?’
    At last she replied. ‘That would be nice too. But what I meant was that it would be…I’d like…to belong. To be part of people’s lives. Not to be always apart.’
    Max’s world gave another wobble. ‘You have no family? Not even someone to write to?’
    ‘There is no one I can call my kin.’ Her voice hardened. ‘No one to give a present to. Which is just as well, since I have nothing to give.’
    His heart ached for her, even as he realised the advantage it gave him. No family. No one to be horrified and ashamed at the step she was about to take. No one who would refuse to acknowledge her ever again. He ignored his conscience, which suggested it made her even more vulnerable. She would be his. Safe. He moved towards her, removing the duster from her hand and dropping it.
    Awareness leapt within Verity at his nearness, at the brush of long fingers over hers. Then her hand was caught in a gentle, inescapable grip, his thumb stroking sensuously over her roughened skin. Everything within her contracted, shivered in expectation. What on earth was he about? She looked up at him, shocked. A mistake.
    ‘Nothing?’ His smile deepened and, with it, the flare of something hungry in his eyes. Something warm that melted her, bone deep.
    Uncertainly she shook her head. ‘I have nothing,’ she repeated.
    ‘You have something I want.’
    His voice was a deep caress and