stared at the image before him. He knew he was a perfectionist and would
never be completely happy with his work, but this painting of Anne did capture
her likeness and her new glow. When he’d first met her, she had been comely,
but now—and he hoped that it had something to do with him—she was luminous in
her exquisite beauty.
The door to the room opened and
Edward entered, throwing his gloves and hat onto the bed before crossing the
room and wrapping his arms around Guy.
“What do you think?” Guy asked
his patron.
Edward didn’t reply but Guy felt
him stiffen as he stared at the portrait. Guy had painted Anne lying on the
chaise clad in just her stockings. Her face rested upon her hand while the
other fell down over her belly, half-obscuring the view of the chestnut curls
between her legs. The painting was highly erotic and Guy knew that Edward
thought so too as he felt his lover’s cock harden against his behind.
“Is she not beautiful?”
“She is.” Edward’s voice was
gruff. Guy pushed backward with his hips, massaging his lover’s erection
without laying a hand on him. Edward responded and reached around to fondle
Guy’s rapidly hardening shaft. “She is too beautiful for a woman though. It
does her no good.”
Guy dropped his paint-spattered
cloth to the floor and turned in Edward’s arms.
“Edward, you know that I love
you. I owe my life to you…everything that I now am. I would lay that life down
for you if you asked me to. This whole thing with Anne, I do for you. But I
believe that you are wrong about her.”
Edward pulled back and stared at
him, and Guy’s heart sank at the anger he saw there.
“What do you mean?”
“She is no cruel harpy, no false
mistress. She is sweet, kind, and caring. I do not believe that she
deliberately set out to hurt you.”
Edward frowned but Guy couldn’t
leave the matter alone. If he followed through with Edward’s plans, then Anne
would be ruined, an outcast, ridiculed in society, and it would be all his
doing. Who else would paint the details of her beautiful body then reveal them
to the ton? Who else would whisper her secrets, share the details about what
she liked to do in bed with the eager and scornful ears of those who danced at Almack’s or strolled along Rotten Row in the afternoon? It
would be Guy and he alone who caused her suffering and it was a prospect he wasn’t
sure he could bear.
“So you will deny me what I have
asked of you?” Edward’s voice was soft and low. Dangerous. When he became quiet, Guy knew he was displeased.
Guy shook his head.
“Because she is
a whore. Look at how quickly she bared her flesh to you.”
“No, it wasn’t like that,
Edward.” Guy held up his hands. “You know the reputation that we have built for
me. Anne would never have approached me had I not thrust myself into her path.
And you of all people know how seductive I can be. I am well trained in the
art. I have perfected it. I had to in order to survive. I have been a rich
woman’s plaything—and at times a man’s—all my adult life to date, and I know
how to coerce and please. Anne was at a stage where she needed a man, a real
man, after being married to one who was as good as a monk. She had not been
touched tenderly or admired in the ways that can make a woman fall in love. She
would not have thrown herself before just anyone at all. And I believe, Edward,
that she has not forgotten you. There is a sadness in her eyes at times…a
shadow passes across her face like clouds across the sun whenever she refers to
her past. I do not believe that she set out to hurt you.”
“Then find out.” Edward’s voice
was firm, commanding.
“What?”
“Ask her. Ask her why she married
another. Why she did so, knowing that
I had gone to seek approval for our marriage.”
Guy reached out, cupped Edward’s
face, and stared deep into his brown eyes.
“I will, my love, I will. For if
I can change this course you seem set upon by easing
never be completely happy with his work, but this painting of Anne did capture
her likeness and her new glow. When he’d first met her, she had been comely,
but now—and he hoped that it had something to do with him—she was luminous in
her exquisite beauty.
The door to the room opened and
Edward entered, throwing his gloves and hat onto the bed before crossing the
room and wrapping his arms around Guy.
“What do you think?” Guy asked
his patron.
Edward didn’t reply but Guy felt
him stiffen as he stared at the portrait. Guy had painted Anne lying on the
chaise clad in just her stockings. Her face rested upon her hand while the
other fell down over her belly, half-obscuring the view of the chestnut curls
between her legs. The painting was highly erotic and Guy knew that Edward
thought so too as he felt his lover’s cock harden against his behind.
“Is she not beautiful?”
“She is.” Edward’s voice was
gruff. Guy pushed backward with his hips, massaging his lover’s erection
without laying a hand on him. Edward responded and reached around to fondle
Guy’s rapidly hardening shaft. “She is too beautiful for a woman though. It
does her no good.”
Guy dropped his paint-spattered
cloth to the floor and turned in Edward’s arms.
“Edward, you know that I love
you. I owe my life to you…everything that I now am. I would lay that life down
for you if you asked me to. This whole thing with Anne, I do for you. But I
believe that you are wrong about her.”
Edward pulled back and stared at
him, and Guy’s heart sank at the anger he saw there.
“What do you mean?”
“She is no cruel harpy, no false
mistress. She is sweet, kind, and caring. I do not believe that she
deliberately set out to hurt you.”
Edward frowned but Guy couldn’t
leave the matter alone. If he followed through with Edward’s plans, then Anne
would be ruined, an outcast, ridiculed in society, and it would be all his
doing. Who else would paint the details of her beautiful body then reveal them
to the ton? Who else would whisper her secrets, share the details about what
she liked to do in bed with the eager and scornful ears of those who danced at Almack’s or strolled along Rotten Row in the afternoon? It
would be Guy and he alone who caused her suffering and it was a prospect he wasn’t
sure he could bear.
“So you will deny me what I have
asked of you?” Edward’s voice was soft and low. Dangerous. When he became quiet, Guy knew he was displeased.
Guy shook his head.
“Because she is
a whore. Look at how quickly she bared her flesh to you.”
“No, it wasn’t like that,
Edward.” Guy held up his hands. “You know the reputation that we have built for
me. Anne would never have approached me had I not thrust myself into her path.
And you of all people know how seductive I can be. I am well trained in the
art. I have perfected it. I had to in order to survive. I have been a rich
woman’s plaything—and at times a man’s—all my adult life to date, and I know
how to coerce and please. Anne was at a stage where she needed a man, a real
man, after being married to one who was as good as a monk. She had not been
touched tenderly or admired in the ways that can make a woman fall in love. She
would not have thrown herself before just anyone at all. And I believe, Edward,
that she has not forgotten you. There is a sadness in her eyes at times…a
shadow passes across her face like clouds across the sun whenever she refers to
her past. I do not believe that she set out to hurt you.”
“Then find out.” Edward’s voice
was firm, commanding.
“What?”
“Ask her. Ask her why she married
another. Why she did so, knowing that
I had gone to seek approval for our marriage.”
Guy reached out, cupped Edward’s
face, and stared deep into his brown eyes.
“I will, my love, I will. For if
I can change this course you seem set upon by easing
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