Wanted: Mail-Order Mistress Page 5

  As they ate delectable mango pudding and drank rich Java coffee, Bethan plied Simon with many more questions about Singapore and his business, gleaning pieces of information that she hoped might help her track down Hugh. Simon answered readily, impressing her with his masterful grasp of everything that affected his business.

  It was clear he enjoyed telling her about it, too. She sensed he was becoming less tense and guarded. The beguiling hint of a smile seemed to hover on his lips, ready to blaze forth in full potency at any second. Bethan drank in the sound of his voice, noting every confident gesture and subtle change in his features.

  A faint stab of disappointment struck her when Simon laid down his napkin at last and rose from his chair, for it meant their pleasant evening was coming to an end. “Before we burst at the seams, shall we step out on to the veranda to enjoy the night air?”

  “That sounds lovely.”

  A few moments later they stood on the deep, roofed veranda that looked out over the garden where she had played with Rosalia. Beyond the garden lay a road and on the other side of the road stretched the beach. A tangy ocean breeze rustled through the leaves of several tall trees near the house. From the sea came the constant, soothing pulse of the breaking waves.

  Bethan inhaled deeply. “What’s that smell?”

  “What smell?” Simon’s hand covered hers as it rested upon the veranda railing. “I’ve become so used to it all, I don’t notice any more.”

  It took a moment to muster her reply. Simon’s touch seemed to reach beyond her fingers, sending an inviting sensation to whisper under her skin. But where was it inviting her? She was too inexperienced to know.

  She sniffed again. “It’s very sweet, but I don’t think it’s flowers. Something cooking, maybe?”

  While she tried to describe the strange, appetising aroma, she drank in his scent too. It had a briny tang with a faintly bitter edge that was strangely appealing—like strong, dark coffee or rich chocolate.

  “It might be coconut oil.” Simon edged nearer until his arm rested against hers. “We use it in lanterns to light the streets at night.”

  “Singapore is full of nice new things.” Bethan gave a sigh of pleasure, intensely aware of Simon’s nearness. “I can hardly wait to see, hear and smell them all.”

  “Don’t forget touch,” he reminded her in a deep rustling whisper as he turned towards her and raised his hand to skim her cheek with the backs of his fingers.

  It was such a different sensation from the way he’d clutched her arm on the quay. It intrigued her that a man who could command such protective force could also be so gentle.

  “You’re not at all what I expected, Bethan.” When he’d said that during their disastrous first meeting, she’d been certain he was expressing displeasure. Now he seemed to be telling her something quite different. “How on earth did Hadrian ever find you?”

  Uncertain of the proper response to Simon’s touch, she made none, though she was powerless to stifle the blush that flared in her cheek beneath his fingers.

  “He put a notice in the newspaper,” she replied in a breathless voice, “and I answered it.”

  “He did what?” Simon drew back abruptly, as if her innocent blush scorched his hand. “What in blazes was he thinking?”

  “Does it matter how he found me?” Bethan shrank from the harshness of his indignation. Was he worried people would laugh at him for getting a bride out of the newspaper? “I’m here. That’s what matters, isn’t it?”

  To her relief, Simon’s voice softened. “I suppose so.” He reached for her hand, twining his fingers through hers. “I’m surprised, that’s all, by Hadrian’s unconventional methods. And more surprised that a woman like you would answer that kind of notice in a newspaper. There must have been plenty of men in Newcastle who wanted you.”

  Bethan sensed a different question lurking beneath his words, but could not think what it might be. Anyway, she wasn’t comfortable with this whole subject. What if her tongue ran away with her, as it so often did, and she told him her true reason for coming to Singapore? She wanted to be certain she could trust him before she mentioned her brother.

  “I didn’t meet many men working in the Bainbridges’ nursery. And I didn’t care much for Newcastle. So when I heard about Mr Northmore’s notice, I thought it wouldn’t hurt to try. I never expected him to pick me, but when he did, I felt as if I’d been offered a lucky chance. I couldn’t refuse it.”

  The pale moonlight cast deep shadows over Simon’s features, making it impossible to tell if he believed her. But his thumb rubbed over her palm in a way that roused her whole body and made her breath quicken. “I’m glad you didn’t.”

  Lifting their entwined hands, he bent forwards and pressed his lips to her wrist…then her forearm, then the inner crook of her elbow. Each kiss brought Bethan a different, delightful sensation, even better than the smell of coconut oil or the taste of mango pudding. They woke a strange slumbering hunger in her—a craving that could not be satisfied with food, no matter how delicious. As Simon kissed his way up her arm, shoulder and neck, her mouth fell open, the better to inhale breath after urgent breath.

  Simon must have taken it for an invitation. Leaning towards her, he tilted his head slightly and took possession of her lips with firm, certain purpose—not rough and demanding, but not tentative or awkward either. His tongue slid between her parted lips, exploring and tasting as if she were some new delicacy he was eager to relish.

  Bethan had been kissed once before by Hugh’s friend Evan. While stealing a hasty, awkward peck in a dark corner, he’d bumped her nose. That kiss had been as different from Simon’s as a bowl of cold tripe from a dish of duck and rice. It had made her feel all sheepish and shameful, anxious not to let it happen again. Simon’s amorous attentions had quite the opposite effect.

  It sent ripples of heat pulsing through her body to pool in her breasts and loins. It whetted a ravenous craving that shocked her with its intensity. She could not seem to inhale enough air through her nose to feed the blaze he had kindled.

  His breath hastened too, gusting from his nostrils like a hot wind against her cheek. His hands began to rove over her body, spreading a sultry yearning wherever he touched. Overwhelmed by the potent, bewildering sensations that possessed her, Bethan pulled back abruptly from Simon’s embrace.

  “Please! We only met…for the first time…this morning. I need a chance…to get to know you…and see more of this place…before I…” marry you—that was what she meant to say, but somehow the words stuck in her throat “…take such a big step.”

  How would Simon react to her request? Bethan searched his shadowed features. For an instant he looked shocked. Then his mouth tightened into a grim line and his icy blue eyes glittered with outrage.

  Jagged shards of frustration slashed through Simon’s body as Bethan jerked away from him.

  An instant before, he’d been relishing the flavour of her kiss—a fresh, delicate sweetness that rivalled the prized mangosteen fruit. Together with the soft ripeness of her body beneath his hands, it had whipped up a tempest of long-stifled desires. His flesh throbbed with anticipation of the delights he would find in her arms. Any doubts he’d had about the wisdom of taking a mistress were drowned out by the swift crash of his heart and the wild gust of his breath. He could scarcely wait to whisk her off to his bed.

  Then, without warning, she tensed and tore herself away from his embrace. It was as if a plaster had suddenly been ripped from his body, taking a great patch of skin with it. Instinct urged him to retaliate.

  But one glimpse of her wide, anxious eyes doused the blaze of his desire with ice-cold shame. She looked far more frightened now than she had that morning, backed against the wall of an opium den by an angry mob.

  “I need a chance…to get to know you…and see more of this place…before I…She’d hesitated as if ashamed to speak aloud the scandalous reason she had come to Singapore “…take such a big step.”

  The ob
vious truth slapped Simon in the face. He’d guessed some man must have taken advantage of her trusting innocence. But Bethan’s terrified reaction to his advances convinced him there’d been more to it. A girl like her would not have willingly surrendered her virginity. It must have been taken from her by force!

  The realisation made Simon’s belly seethe with violent outrage, like a volcano preparing to erupt. From tightly locked chambers of his memory, anguished screams escaped to ring in his ears.

  He regretted his earlier suspicions about Bethan. No wonder she had tried to evade his questions about why she’d come to Singapore, with flimsy excuses about seeking adventure. What she really must have craved was safety and a complete change of scene to help her forget what had happened to her. The truth of her situation should have been obvious to him of all men. But he had let the urgency of his need blind him to it.

  “Of course.” With a supreme effort of will, Simon strove to bring his turbulent emotions back under control. It had been a long time since anything had come so close to shattering his composure. “Forgive me! I did not mean to alarm you. It is a great while since I have been close to a woman. I fear your beauty overcame my discretion.”

  Damn! That was the wrong thing to say. He should never have implied that what happened was in any way her fault—that her attractions somehow justified his loss of control.

  Simon burned to know exactly what had been done to her. He wanted to learn the name of the blackguard who’d ruined her, so he could curse it. And if by some unlikely chance they ever met, he would thrash the vile dog within an inch of his life!

  But how could he ask Bethan to dredge up such shameful memories when he’d refused to discuss parts of his own past that he longed to forget? He must respect her privacy and her efforts to put those troubles behind her.

  To Simon’s surprise, his ill-chosen words seemed to ease her alarm.

  “You think I’m beautiful?” she mused as if she found it hard to believe.

  “Oh, yes,” he murmured, half against his will. “Far more beautiful than I ever expected.”

  A shimmer of starlight reflected in her eyes. “Well, I never thought you’d turn out to be so young and handsome.”

  Though the bashful sincerity of her admiration made Simon’s chest swell, it also threatened his tenuous self-control. “You really shouldn’t say things like that if you want me to keep my distance.”

  He spoke gently, almost jesting, but perhaps she sensed the dangerous undercurrent of desire lurking beneath his words.

  Her lovely features tensed and she caught her lush lower lip between her teeth. “It isn’t that I don’t like you or don’t ever want to…to—”

  “I understand!” Simon cried, anxious to spare her from speaking the words that might have unpleasant associations for her. “You need time to become accustomed to…your new situation.”

  Time to learn she could trust him to treat her as she deserved. Time to conquer her fears of intimacy with a man. Time to come to terms with giving up any hope of respectability in exchange for his protection.

  “How long do you think it will take?” The words slipped out before he could stop them, betraying the urgency of his need.

  That might have been what made Bethan retreat a step further, clinging to the veranda railing. “I hadn’t thought, really. I suppose a month should give us time to get to know one another better. Would that be all right?”

  A whole month? Simon bit back a groan. Thirty evenings like this, struggling to ignore the old gnawing hunger she’d whetted with a fleeting taste of her favours. How could he stand it?

  But how could he resist her lilting entreaty and her whole air of vulnerable innocence?

  “If it’s a month you need, then a month you shall have,” he assured her. “You are quite right to call it a big step. I want to make certain it is one you won’t regret.”

  That did not mean he would have to go a whole month without a single kiss or touch. Simon sought to pacify his thwarted desires. He must help her become accustomed to his attentions a little at a time, with the reassurance that he would not go too far or too fast. He must show her that he could be relied upon to protect and to provide for her, to treat her gently, and to bring her pleasure. He needed to kindle her desires while keeping a tight rein on his own, so that by month’s end she would be as eager to take her promised place in his bed as he would be to have her there.

  Simon bid Bethan goodnight with a restrained, mannerly bow as if their passionate embrace on the veranda had never happened. Though she knew he was only trying to oblige her request, Bethan could not subdue a perverse wish for something more. Another gallant kiss on the hand, or a lingering brush of his lips on her cheek.

  As she undressed for bed, she found herself listening for sounds of him moving around in the room next door. The bewildering thrill of his kiss seemed to have awakened something in her. She was conscious of her body in a way she had not been in years, since it began the mysterious change to womanhood. When she stripped down to her shift, she could not ignore the sweet, subtle ache in her breasts. Her nipples jutted out against the fine linen like a pair of firm pink pebbles.

  When she caught a glimpse of herself in the glass above her dressing table, she wondered if Simon was listening to her movements, picturing her undressing. That thought sent a sultry blush sweeping from her bare toes all the way to the roots of her hair. And when she pictured him removing his crisp white shirt then sliding his trousers down over his thighs, all the air seemed to go out of the room, leaving her gasping for breath. Ater her sheltered early years, Bethan had never expected to have this sort of response to the man she’d arranged to marry. She was not certain what to make of it and whether it was a good or bad thing under the circumstances.

  Dousing the lamp, she dived under the tent of insect netting on to her bed. All was quiet in Simon’s room, now. A warm breeze wafted through the slats of the window shutter, bearing a mixture of exotic fragrances, the call of a night bird and the swish of waves breaking upon the nearby shore.

  As she thought back over the day’s events, she could scarcely believe she had been in Singapore less than twenty-four hours. So much had happened in that short time and her feelings had shifted back and forth to such opposite extremes, she wondered if she would ever sort them out. Hopefully the one month’s grace that Simon had granted her would be long enough to make a start. So much depended on what she was able to find out about her brother in that time.

  Bethan prayed she would have better luck in her search over the next month than she’d had that day.

  Chapter Five

  “How do you like it here, so far?” Simon asked Bethan a few days after she’d arrived in Singapore.

  Between a surge in shipping traffic from the West and four new workers to train, he’d been run off his feet since then. Last night he hadn’t even been able to get home to dine with Bethan, much to his disappointment. With business running smoother today, he’d come home early to join her on the veranda.

  “Very well, thank you.” Bethan smiled at him, but quickly looked away as if she still wasn’t quite comfortable around him. “Your servants have gone out of their way to make me welcome.”

  “But…?” Simon prompted her, sensing an undercurrent of discontent in her tone.

  “It’s nothing really.” She fluttered her fan more rapidly. “I’m just not used to being idle. I wish there was more I could do, but I suppose it’s not proper for the mistress to be doing maid’s work. Ah-Sam did let me take Rosalia for a walk on the beach. I think she enjoyed it.”

  Simon’s spirits rose at hearing Bethan refer to herself as his mistress in such an offhand way. Still, he wasn’t certain he approved of Rosalia spending too much time in the company of his mistress. Not that he feared Bethan would corrupt the child’s morals, as might have been the case if Hadrian had sent the sort of experienced ladybird he’d expected. But it did put Bethan on a different footing in his household—too much like a wife for hi
s comfort.

  “I hope you don’t feel obliged to earn your keep for the next month by looking after Rosalia. She has an excellent amah.”

  “I know that.” Bethan bristled slightly. “I’m not trying to take Ah-Sam’s place. It’s just that I enjoy your daughter’s company and we have a jolly time together.”

  “I’m pleased to hear it.” That wasn’t altogether true, but Simon was relieved she didn’t dislike Rosalia and want the child sent away. “Though I was hoping you would enjoy my company. That is why I brought you to Singapore, after all.”

  “I do!” she cried, then immediately appeared flustered by her outburst. “I mean…I know that. But you’re a busy man. You don’t have much time to spend with me.”

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to get home for dinner last night.” Though he meant it sincerely, it irked Simon to apologise for his absence. He hadn’t bargained on answering to his mistress for his comings and goings, as he would a wife. Then again, so many things about Bethan were not as he’d expected. “That’s why I came home early today. I thought we might take a drive before dinner to see a little more of the town. Would you like that?”

  He knew her answer almost before the question was out of his mouth. Her whole face lit up with a winsome glow that took his breath away. “I’d love it!

  She started towards him was if she meant to throw her arms around his neck. But before she could complete the impulsive gesture, she caught herself and jerked back.

  Simon stifled a pang of disappointment. Perhaps an unguarded overture of that sort had led to the loss of her virtue. He must help her overcome such troubling memories and show her she had nothing to fear from him.

  “Can Rosalia come with us?” she asked. “I’m sure she would enjoy a drive.”

  Simon bit back an impatient reply. “Another time, perhaps. I don’t like to upset her nursery routine.”

  For a moment Bethan looked as though she might argue his decision, but when she spoke it was only to ask, “Should I change clothes first?”