Susan Stephens Selection: The French Count's Mistress / The Spaniard's Revenge / Virgin for Sale / Bedded by the Desert King

The party was a success, she realised happily. And best of all, she decided as her gaze rested upon a tiny, but elegant figure, Guy’s mother was moving around the garden, offering titbits to the villagers and basking in their obvious delight at seeing her again—the men whipping off their hats and the women’s eyes full of pleasure to see this evidence of her recovery. Food was a great icebreaker, Kate mused, as she lifted out a large plastic container of her own cardamom ice-cream from one of the cooler bags Madame Duplessis had thought to bring over from the château. Putting the ice cream and a scoop next to the brioche, she opened the door, picked up the tray and hurried outside.

‘Félicitations!’

‘Guy! I thought you’d gone.’ Kate tensed as she gazed up, then relaxed into bemused speculation as she weighed up his outfit. His strong tanned arms shaded with dark hair and ornamented by nothing more than a slim gold watch on a black leather strap were now adorned with a tea towel! ‘What on earth are you doing with that?’ she said, noticing a second one he’d tied around his waist to cover his linen trousers. After all that had happened, his narrow-eyed look of wry indulgence was all the more surprising.

‘Someone had to take charge of the barbecue,’ he said dryly. ‘You surely didn’t think I’d leave it to Megan…?’

‘Why not? She’s perfectly capable.’ Kate’s heart jumped when she saw a humorous twist tug at his lips.

‘When she’s not distracted, I’d agree with you,’ Guy agreed evenly. ‘But right now…’

He shrugged and as Kate followed his gaze she saw Guy’s chauffeur busily plying Megan with morsels of cake from his plate.

‘I’ve heard of angel cake, but never Cupid’s,’ Guy murmured as he removed the tray from her hands.

When the villagers saw their Count bearing down on them with yet more delectable food a space was quickly cleared on the table for him and a queue formed for the pudding. Elise hurried over to take care of the serving, and then Guy found that his place at the barbecue had also been supplanted, this time by Monsieur Dupont. Just behind the barbecue an old feed trough had been packed with ice and filled with bottles of wine. Tossing his temporary apron aside, Guy filled up two glasses and returned to Kate’s side.

‘Buves ceci,’ he said, pressing the glass into her hand. ‘You look like you could use it.’

As compliments went, she’d heard better, but at least he was true to his word. Not only was he behaving as if no dispute existed between them, but he’d stayed on to help and had entered into the spirit of the party… So calm down, Kate told herself. ‘Thank you, it’s delicious,’ she murmured, keeping her eyes safely fixed on the pale golden liquid.

‘What can you smell?’ Guy demanded, jolting her attention back to his face when she had been so resolved not to succumb.

‘It’s your wine?’

‘Naturellement,’ he said expansively. ‘Now, concentrate and tell me what aromas you can detect.’

‘Concentrate?’ Was he joking?

‘I’ll show you,’ Guy said, putting his own glass down. Coming to stand behind her, he put his hand over hers and held the glass up so that it was well out in front of her. ‘Belle robe!’ he exclaimed softly.

‘You like my dress?’ Kate queried uncertainly, intensely conscious of the pulse that seemed to be throbbing through her hand, a pulse she was sure he must feel too.

‘In this context,’ he murmured, ‘I am remarking on the beautiful colour of the wine.’

‘I see,’ Kate said, attempting studious attention when she was sure the quality of her voice was enough to give her away.

‘Now we swirl and sniff.’

‘We do?’

After a quick rotation of the glass, Guy reached under her long hair with his other hand to find the sensitive area at the back of her neck, his thumb controlling, his fingers splaying to nurse her scalp. ‘Breathe in through your nose,’ he commanded softly, encouraging her forward, ‘and then tell me what you have discovered.’

Nothing she could safely tell him about, Kate thought ruefully as she obeyed him.

‘Well, Kate?’ he demanded, clearly expecting some erudite comment.

‘Er… Honey, melon…sunshine?’ she added in desperation.

‘Très bien,’ he drawled.

His praise thrilled through her and, considering the exceptional circumstances, Kate couldn’t help feeling rather pleased with herself.

‘Now sip,’ he instructed as he brought the glass to her lips.

‘Can I swallow?’

His look was X-rated. ‘I’ll leave that up to you,’ he murmured dryly.

‘Mmm, delicious,’ she said, flashing him a wide-eyed look.

‘Here, let me take that,’ Guy said, removing the glass from her hand, his face a mask of beautifully controlled amusement. ‘Shall we dance?’

‘Dance?’

‘Yes, you know,’ he prompted softly. ‘I take hold of you and we move together rhythmically.’

This was one game she was never going to win, Kate decided. Nonchalant compliance was the only way if she was to stand a chance of concealing the ridiculous amount of happiness bubbling away inside her at the realisation that he seemed to have forgiven her.

Taking her silence for assent, Guy linked her arm through his and led her towards the patio. Men and women and children were packed in, jostling for space as they danced to the boisterous music. But as soon as they saw Guy approaching some people nudged others and others stopped dancing altogether, until finally the accordionist’s fingers faltered and then stilled.

Feeling self-conscious suddenly, Kate pinned an apologetic smile to her face as she glanced around. Perhaps this was as good a moment as any to return to the kitchen.

Sensing her uncertainty, Guy firmed his grip on her arm. ‘Continuez…please,’ he insisted. ‘Mademoiselle Foster is a little timid…’

‘No, I’m not!’ Kate whispered fiercely.

He gave a rueful shrug, the corners of his mouth sloping in wry amusement as the music started up again, but at a more sedate pace—and Kate aimed a kick at his shins. ‘Missed,’ he said, contentedly drawing her close.

With her defiance dispatched at a touch, Kate’s senses flared beneath Guy’s controlling hands. Firm, but restrained, he left her in no doubt that she would not be allowed to get away until he was ready. Not that she wanted to…ever. But this was only power play for him, she reminded herself forcefully. Guy had always relished the opportunity to bait what he called her wilful spirit—and nothing had changed. She had no doubt he would wield that same power—and with swingeing attention to detail when it came to asserting the wretched covenants when it suited him. But until then… Constraint was seductive, she realised, as the smallest movement of his fingers caused her own to respond, yielding; searching, until the urge to explore the contours of his enclosing fist was impossible to ignore.

Guy made no move either to discourage or encourage, but simply permitted her to twine her fingers through his. It was enough. She was on fire for him. He responded with equal subtlety, one hand shifting very slightly on her waist, increasing the pressure as they moved easily together to the music. His message was unmistakable…if she chose to hear it. Kate flicked a glance around but, having accepted the fact that their Count was happy to mingle with them on the makeshift dance floor, everyone had started dancing again. There was no one to see as she rested her cheek against his chest and wondered what it would be like to have Guy make love to her…to see him focus his mind, his strength and his considerable finesse on pleasuring her.

She could feel the hard contours of his body through the lightweight summer fabrics and picturing him without any clothes on at all didn’t take a great leap of the imagination. The thought of Guy stretched out completely naked and fully exposed for her to enjoy on some huge bed was intoxicating. How small she would look next to him, Kate mused, sighing with delicious anticipation as she pressed her breasts up against an unyielding expanse of chest… He would overwhelm her…engulf her with his powerful frame which, if the laws of proportion held true, meant that this wonderful body currently nudging against every erogenous zone she possessed would be completed by the most magnificent erection—the very thought of which sent a bolt of sensation shimmering down her spine to lodge in a place that was already disgracefully receptive. For a moment she could think of nothing at all as she allowed some tantalising little spasms to herald a foretaste of his lovemaking.

She felt his arms tighten around her, almost as if he sensed what was happening, sensed it and supported her so that she could relax into the startlingly pleasurable waves. A moan that was little more than a sigh escaped her as they faded away again far too soon… Hearing that, he stroked one hand very slowly down the length of her back almost as if to console her. She had always known Guy would be a wonderful and intuitive lover; one who knew just how to draw out the pleasure for her until she was forced to beg him for release. He would choose the moment—he would know when to tip her over the edge. He might be all charm, elegance and sophistication on the outside, but those wickedly expressive eyes and all too knowledgeable hands gave him away… They belonged to a connoisseur of the sensual arts, and one who was driving her crazy right now with his whispering passes of a rock-hard thigh against the pulsing site of her arousal.

‘Forgive me, Kate… Kate.’ He was forced to repeat her name a little louder to drag her back from her erotic daydreams.

‘Forgive you—’ she murmured distractedly, looking up at him with eyes clouded with desire. ‘For what?’

‘I haven’t been paying you enough attention,’ he murmured, a gleam of intuition brightening his gaze as he stared down at her.

As his cool minty breath caressed her neck Kate felt all the tiny hairs stand erect. Had he been neglecting her? If this was how it felt to be ignored she couldn’t wait to have his full attention. ‘Have you been sidetracked? I hadn’t noticed.’ His eyes were dark with humour when she looked up into them.

‘Bien, I’ve been talking to quite a few people,’ he said. ‘You must have noticed.’

‘Well, I didn’t,’ Kate said, adding by way of an excuse, ‘I’ve been enjoying the dancing too much.’