The Man Behind the Mask (8 page)

‘No food. Just coffee.'

As if realising he had sounded a little curt, Eduardo softened his reply with a smile. It was as though she'd been given the most monumental gift. Marianne sensed pleasure gush through her blood stream like hot water
springs, and to hide her burning cheeks she turned away to scoop pungent dark roasted coffee into the cafetière and place a matching cup and saucer on a tray.

‘Marianne?'

‘Yes?'

‘I was thinking that maybe you'd agree to take a walk with me after I have had my coffee. Up towards the forest, perhaps?'

‘Are you feeling up to going so far?'

Turning, she was just in time to catch Eduardo grimace, as if the last thing he wanted was to be reminded of his infirmity, and Marianne could have bitten out her tongue at her tact less ness.

‘If I was not feeling up to it I would not have suggested it,' he replied, clearly attempting to quell any irritation inside him and making a deliberate effort to sound more agreeable instead.

‘In that case, I'll be happy to go with you,' she told him, turning back to the kettle and pouring boiling water into the waiting cafetière…

 

In silence they made their way across the bridge, then onto the path that wound its way into the dense, still snow-covered forest. Now and again Marianne glanced to her side, to make sure Eduardo was not in difficulty, but she soon got the message that it would be unwise to display too much concern. Just a glimmer of a warning glance was all it took, so Marianne walked onwards without comment, her booted feet crunching on deep snow that was still treacherously slippery in places, the
freezing air caressing her face with the cold kiss of winter at its deepest.

On either side of them tall trees rose up like dark walls hemming them in, and the path seemed to thin to a bare ribbon in places. She knew that, much as she might like to wander off at will, it would not be a good idea on a day with conditions as potentially treacherous as this. As soon as the lighter, milder days of spring arrived, then it would be an excursion to savour.
But would she still be here in the spring?
For that matter…would Eduardo?

Unable to hold back the fear that suddenly swarmed through her, Marianne stopped walking to study the silent, handsome man at her side.

‘Please tell me what's wrong with you!' she burst out, emotion welling up inside her. ‘I can't bear not to know.'

‘Because of what happened to your husband you ask this?' Eduardo sighed heavily into the frigid air. ‘I have not got a terminal illness, if that is what you are worried about.'

‘Then what's wrong with your leg—and why do you so often seem to retreat where no one can reach you?'

‘The first question I will answer… The second I cannot.'

Marianne waited, the cold at the tips of her gloved fingers feeling like sharpened steel teeth nipping her. She clapped them together to try and restore some warmth.

‘I was involved in a car accident…a very bad one.' He
stared at the ground for long seconds, a pulse throbbing visibly in the side of his cheek. ‘That is how I injured my leg. I have had nine operations to try and mend the shattered bone, and from time to time the pain is excruciating.'

‘I'm so sorry.'

‘Don't be.' His jaw hardened, and the steely look that he some times wore crept back into the pale blue gaze now focused on Marianne. ‘It was my own fault, and I must pay the price.'

‘What are you saying?' She frowned. ‘That you
deserve
the pain?'

‘Now that you know I am not going to die any time soon, let us walk on or turn back.'

‘Eduardo?'

‘What is it?' His answering glance was predictably impatient.

‘You are much too hard on yourself, I think.'

She knew she risked him telling her to mind her own business, but Marianne couldn't help herself. Once again he had gone to that place where no one could follow, and she longed to bring him back.

‘Have you always spoken your mind so easily?' he asked.

To her surprise, when she glanced over she found Eduardo was smiling, and her stomach did a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree cart wheel. ‘Not always. But it seems to me that people waste too much time pretending and not saying what they really feel.'

‘You are probably right about that. Now have you had
enough of an adventure for one afternoon? I think we should turn back, don't you? The sky is looking rather dismal and threatening.'

‘I suppose we ought—'

Turning too suddenly, Marianne felt her booted foot slip on some ice, and the next thing she knew was she was lying flat on her back in the freezing snow, staring up at Eduardo as if he were a sky scraper above her.

‘Marianne!' As he bent towards her, his expression was shocked and bleached of colour.

Inexplicably, laughter bubbled up inside her chest, her peal of mirth ringing out clearly as a bell in the still, silent forest, agitating some birds that were nesting in a nearby oak.

As they flew away, in a cacophony of flapping wings, Eduardo glanced back down at Marianne, his handsome face a picture of confusion and uncertainty. ‘I do not see what is so funny,' he said gruffly. ‘You might have hurt yourself badly! Do not try to get up too quickly. Here…let me help you.'

Allowing his cane to fall onto the ground, he put out both hands to aid Marianne, but even as she struggled to get to her feet again her humour did not dissipate.

‘I didn't even hurt myself! That was what was so funny. I made a perfect landing…just like an acrobat or a prima ballerina!'

Her eyes damp with mirth, she was now upright, and her gaze locked with the man still holding her hands. Seeing something there that made her heart stall, she felt her laughter die as abruptly as it had arisen.

‘Do you have any idea how beautiful you are? How bewitching and lovely?' Eduardo murmured hoarsely. Then, urgently impelling her into his arms, he kissed her as though her lips were pure life saving oxygen…

Am I dreaming?
Can this really be happening to me?

As Eduardo held her and kissed her, Marianne forgot the piercing cold weather, also the fact that her jeans and jacket were now soaked and freezing from her graceful fall onto the snow, and instead clung to the steely warmth of his body coming through his cashmere coat, letting the intoxicating flavours and erotic taste of the man flood her senses. It was the first real passionate kiss she had ever had—a roaring fire in the midst of bitter winter—and she wanted it to last for ever…

But already Eduardo was lifting his lips away from hers—albeit reluctantly—cupping her face in his leather-gloved hands, staring deep into her eyes as though he could gaze and gaze at her and never get tired of the sight of her.

‘Forgive me if that was a liberty I should not have taken,' he said huskily, and all Marianne could think was what in credibly long lashes he had, and how the little bump in the bridge of his nose was the perfect flaw in a face that would otherwise be almost
too
handsome and un for get table for words. ‘But I am not going to tell
you I regret it,' he confessed, a corner of his sensuous mouth wryly lifting. ‘Not when I thought I might
die
if I did not!'

Marianne blinked up at him in surprise, his words causing dizzying feelings of delight and pleasure to drench her like warm summer rain. ‘It was a lovely kiss, Eduardo…and obviously something you are very good at!'

Hearing the un con strained pleasure in her voice, she felt self-conscious heat rush into her face, suddenly afraid that he might think her reply too candid for comfort.
But then why should she act as if she regretted his kiss when she didn't?

When Marianne would have torn her glance away, Eduardo held her chin fast with his fingers, his expression bemused. ‘Your disarming honesty is very refreshing…not to mention ego-boosting! But such refreshing candour could get you into trouble,
namorada
…especially where men are concerned. Come, we will go back now. You are cold and damp from the snow, and you need to get out of those wet clothes into something warm.'

‘You're right…it
is
cold.' Wrapping her arms round her middle, suddenly unable to stop the violent shivering that seized her, Marianne glanced shyly back at him. ‘Being out in such weather has definitely been invigorating.'

‘That is certainly
one
word for it,' Eduardo replied drolly, reaching down into the snow to retrieve his cane and then smiling inscrutably. ‘Although I can think of many others equally descriptive!'

 

Returning to his rooms from the personal gymnasium he had had in stalled with the most up-to-date equipment available before he had even moved into the house, after a punishing hour of exercise on the tread mill, Eduardo strode into his luxurious bathroom and turned on the shower. His body was throbbing warmly from his activities—and miraculously he was hardly experiencing any pain at all, despite probably overdoing the exercise.

His foot steps stilled on the marble-tiled floor. The memory of the kiss he had stolen from Marianne in the forest suddenly drowned him in heat—heat definitely
not
aroused by punishing exercise. His senses were reacting as though she stood right in front of him
naked
, and in an instant he was aching and hungry, and needing her as he had never needed another woman before…not even his tragic Eliana. Touching his fingers to his mouth with something like wonder, Eduardo replayed the erotic sensation of her damp sweet lips against his, the taste of her exquisitely satin tongue, her arresting body pressed hard against him so that he felt every shapely contour even through her layers of winter clothing.
He cursed beneath his breath in pure frustration.

Good God! He could hardly contain his need and his lust! But so many things about Marianne had got to him that day. Her laughter, for one… It had arrowed straight into his heart, dislodging something he'd for got ten he even possessed: the ability to experience pleasure. How long since he had expressed humour so unguardedly,
basking in the warmth that resulted from it? He couldn't even recall such a time…it could have been
years
for all he knew. Then, when he had helped Marianne up from the snowy ground where she had fallen, her spontaneous delight had quite taken him aback. Seeing how beautiful her unfettered joy had rendered her, Eduardo had suddenly craved to be part of it…to taste genuine happiness and pleasure on his lips for once, instead of bitterness and sadness, to remember what it felt like to be really
alive
and not have every sense deadened by grief and regret.

The reality of how she had tasted had not disappointed either. Kissing her had been like devouring lush chocolate-covered cherries in a warm sensuous bath, and his desire had been explosive. So much so that his hands had ached to explore every lovely inch of her right there and then, in the middle of that freezing forest.

As he sensed what that inflammatory thought did to his body, he glanced wryly down wards. Then, lifting his head and staring unseeingly at the cloud of steam arising from the hot shower, he realised how much he liked having this mesmerising woman around…realised that if she was
not
around he might descend into even
worse
misery and despair. She was diverting his mind as well as arousing his lust, and had banished his sombre mood for the first time in ages.

Feeling something close to optimism—a notion that had been a stranger to him for quite some time—he
peeled off the black T-shirt and sweat pants he'd worn to exercise and stepped gratefully beneath the scalding spray of hot water.

 

Having changed into warmer clothes, deposited her snow-dampened jeans into the laundry basket and hung her wet jacket on a coat hanger in the airing cupboard, Marianne took a quick shower and then returned downstairs to start preparing the evening meal.

An hour later, having made a pot of tea, she took it upstairs to Eduardo's study. Knocking tentatively on the heavy oak door, she tried very hard to quell her nervousness. Still intoxicated by his kiss, she was seized by a new self-conscious shyness at the thought of being in his company again, and even though he'd told her he
hadn't
regretted kissing her, she couldn't help wondering if in the interim he'd reached a different conclusion.

‘Yes!'

At Eduardo's behest, Marianne entered the room. He was seated at his desk, his computer turned off and his expression suggestive of someone deep in thought rather than immersed in work. She couldn't help but wonder what was preoccupying him.

‘I thought you might like a cup of tea,' she offered tentatively, laying the small wooden tray down on a clear portion of the desk beside him.

‘That was thoughtful…thank you. For someone raised on strong Brazilian coffee, I am becoming in ordinately fond of the English habit of afternoon tea,' he remarked, his voice warm.

‘I probably drink far too much of the stuff than is good for me, to be honest, but old habits die hard.' Forcing herself to meet his gaze, Marianne immediately scented the warm, clean, definitely
erotic
smell of sandalwood soap that clung to him. There were other things she couldn't help noticing. The dark blond hair that was obviously still damp from his recent shower. The fresh white cotton shirt, and the jeans that looked as if they had been tailor-made for his hard lean body. The fact that he had also had a shave. There was a tiny spot of dried blood on his firm jawbone to confirm it.

‘Marianne?'

‘Yes?'

‘You are staring at me.'

‘Sorry…I was miles away.' Flustered, she turned away.

As she reached for the teapot to pour the tea, Eduardo caught her by the wrist and tugged her towards him. Finding herself precariously balanced against the steely wall of his chest, her jean-clad thighs trapped firmly between his as he held both wrists fast, she felt her heart thump so hard that she honestly feared she might faint.

‘What are you—? What are you doing?'

‘I am repaying the compliment,' he answered, an enigmatic little smile playing round his lips. ‘Now I am staring at
you
.'

Saying no more, Eduardo freed her wrists, then started to unbutton the shape less red white and blue patterned cardigan she wore.

‘Now what are you doing?' she asked nervously. The touch of his strong muscled thighs in the tough denim of his jeans was all but
burning
her skin through the slightly flimsier, cheaper material of her own.

‘I want to take this off so that I can see properly how you are made. You seem to persist in wearing clothes that completely conceal your figure, and I do not under stand it. Ah…
much
better. You are exquisite,
namorada
…quite exquisite. Such a tiny waist, and yet such perfect womanly hips too.'

All Marianne wore underneath the over-large sweater was a thin white T-shirt. Beneath that she was braless. Remembering the fact, she sensed her nipples all but drill holes in the skimpy material as Eduardo's sensual blue eyes lazily but thoroughly examined her figure. Then, without warning, he placed his hands either side of her hips and pressed her towards him. Just as she registered this, her lips collided with his, and his tongue thrust hungrily into her mouth, laying erotic claim to hers.

She heard the ravenous husky moan that escaped her, hardly recognising it as her own. But then even her
mind
seemed not to belong to her any more. It hovered, suspended in a whole other intoxicating hemi sphere, as time and again wave upon wave of the most deliciously urgent sensations of pleasure, lust and need powerfully rocked through her body—feelings that up until now Marianne had had very little experience of.

Sliding his hands beneath her T-shirt, Eduardo cupped and stroked her breasts, inflaming her already
aching, tingling nipples into stinging, hardened buds. Then he put his mouth to each breast in turn, at precisely the moment when Marianne believed she couldn't stand it any longer if he
didn't
, and suckled hard. Biting her lip, she instinctively and greedily held his head to her, sliding her fingers through the damp silky strands of his dark wheat hair as even more ragged moans of pleasure and want left her lips. The tight, clenched feeling deep in her womb practically
begged
for some way to be released.
Was this what she had been missing all this time, denying herself the physical intimacy and pleasure of being with a man?

Immediately the question arose, Marianne knew it was only
this
man who was capable of arousing such wild abandon in her.

Lifting his head with a look that was both pleasurably sated as well as hungry for more, Eduardo readjusted her dishevelled clothing and rose slowly to his feet. ‘I have a question for you.'

He locked his arms round her waist, and Marianne stared up at him as if in a dream. Yet she was fully and shockingly aware of the barely civilized, almost
feral
state of arousal reflected back at her from those haunting blue eyes. It was all she could do to keep breathing, never mind hope to answer him.

‘If I asked you to come to me tonight and share my bed…would you?'

Deciphering her thoughts above the roar of rushing blood inside her head was a challenge. But even though Marianne's body was definitely
not
conflicted about
what it needed, she still found herself hesitating. Feeling her fingers curl into the side of Eduardo's lean, hard waist, she breathed softly, ‘Can we wait a little while before that happens? It's not that I don't want to, it's just that—'

‘It is too soon for you? Of course. I under stand.'

Gently he put her from him, and Marianne wasn't prepared for how cold she suddenly felt without him.

He continued, ‘It's just that you arouse feelings in me that I haven't experienced for quite some time, and they are a little…' he grinned ‘…overwhelming.'

‘You too have aroused similar feelings in me, Eduardo…strong feelings. But perhaps we could just spend an evening together instead? Maybe get to know each other a little better?' she suggested, heart thudding in case he refused.

Spying a chess board on the middle shelf of a bookcase, she felt an idea start to form itself in her mind.

‘Doing what? It would have to be something in which I would not constantly be distracted by you and want to touch you!' Eduardo admitted with a wolfish grin.

Sensing her whole body glow with pleasure, Marianne smiled. ‘I see you have a chess board…do you play?'

‘Does it rain in the Amazon?'

Folding his muscular arms across his chest, he chuckled. He had the most mischievous look on his face that she had ever seen, and it made her tummy imitate the motion of a yo-yo.

‘What are you suggesting? That we spend the evening playing chess? You think you can keep me occupied
with your game for long enough so that we won't have to find something else to do?'

‘Wait and see. I might just surprise you!'

‘
Namorado
…you have already surprised me more than I ever could have believed possible.'

Looking as if he would once again draw her into his arms, Eduardo dropped his hands to his hips as if to regretfully contain the urge. Marianne chose that same moment to head for the door.

‘It's a deal, then. I'll see you later,' she told him shyly as she let herself out.

 

Eduardo discovered that amongst the things he was starting to love about Marianne was one of the most relatively innocuous things of all:
watching her concentrate
. Many times during their now nearly four-hour chess game he had seen her exhibit myriad different expressions—sighs, pouts, chewing of the lips and thumb nails. His favourite was the way that little crease would appear in the flawless skin between her brows—usually just before she had achieved a move with the most lethal result—before relaxing again as though it had never been.