Candice Hern Read Online Free Page B

stranger? Though her body still thrummed with the aftereffects of sexual release, her mind found clarity at last and understood the outrageousness of her behavior.
    How could she have done such a thing?
    How had she let it go so far? She knew when they went outside that she would be soundly kissed by the dark stranger, but had she expected ... this? No, she had not. Had she? Heavens, she was so confused. She had enjoyed his obvious interest, wanted him to kiss her. But had she truly imagined it would lead to anonymous coupling up against a wall, for God's sake?
    One thing was certain. She knew when a line had been crossed and the ultimate intimacy was about to occur. She could have stopped it; she could have said she did not want it. But she had not done so. Because she had wanted it. There was no denying she had wanted it. But to have given in to her desire, to have shown no self-restraint whatsoever, to have allowed a strange man access to her body, suddenly made her feel off balance, stupefied and stupid.
    She did not know whether she was overwrought with outrage, or outrageously thrilled. Should she feel shamefully disgusted, or deliciously wicked?
    Yes, she had been intrigued by his interest, and attracted to him. And the masks, the music, the revealing costume, had all made her feel quite daring. The anonymity of the encounter, the sheer boldness of it, had excited her even more and had given her an odd sort of courage.
    Courage to behave like a wanton. To allow herself to be seduced in a garden outside a ballroom with hundreds of people inside. People who knew her, respected her, even admired her for her work with the Benevolent Widows Fund. People who would be beyond astonished to know what she'd just done.
    If Beatrice had ever imagined herself taking a lover, and such thoughts had indeed teased her of late, she'd assumed it would be a discreet affair that took place in the privacy of a bedroom. But this ... this rough, unbridled passion in the dark, against a wall, with people wandering about who might come upon them, with Emily just inside ... this was not something she could ever have imagined. It seemed so sordid, so dirty.
    So exciting.
    Deep in her heart, she knew it was wrong. She ought not to have let it happen. The best thing to do would be to walk away. Now, while the entire business was still anonymous. Suddenly, it seemed imperative to protect her identity. She did not want this man to know who it was who'd given her body so willingly, and she did not want to know who he was, either. That would make it easier for her to accept the situation as a moment of madness, an anomaly that was thoroughly out of character. Surely this man would believe her to be a woman of loose morals, a woman who thought nothing of making love in the dark with a stranger. Like a prostitute in Covent Garden. She did not want it known that Lady Somerfield was such a woman.
    Because she was not. She had never done anything disgraceful or improper in her entire life. She had never been with a man other than Somerfield.
    All of these thoughts flew through her mind in an instant, jumbled and confused, before she could even stir herself from the wall. She was ready to move away when she felt his hand lift her skirt again and she jumped back with a shriek. No! She would not allow him to importune her again. She would not allow the moment of madness to stretch into two moments, or more.
    But he did not press against her again to initiate further intimacies. Instead he used a piece of silky fabric to wipe her legs. "Let me help you, Artemis."
    But she squirmed against his touch. The thought of his seed spilling down her legs, a sticky reminder of what she'd done, only made her feel more acutely aware of the coarseness of the encounter. She tried to get away, but the stranger rose again and pinned her to the wall. "Don't run away, my huntress." He kissed her again and she pulled back, fighting her body's treasonous attraction to him in an