Impossibly, the kiss Damien gave her upon leaving roused her as much as the first touch of his mouth had, even though Vanessa thought herself so sensually drained, she couldn’t conceivably feel any more desire or pleasure.

She slept deeply, replete and exhausted, and woke far later than usual. For a moment she lay there, remembering the night. She could still feel Damien’s warm, elegant hands on her flesh, his sleek, lithe body pleasuring her, his soft, murmured words of praise and satisfaction as he brought her to ecstasy again and again.

He had swept her away with his consuming passion, into a world of rapture, and, in so doing, had banished her feelings of dread, her memories of pain. More remarkably, his exquisite lovemaking had left her shaken with the realization of her own passion.

Properly she should feel shame for acting like such a wanton, yet she couldn’t bring herself to wallow in self-reproach. She had dutifully endured a joyless marriage and the misery of carnal relations with her husband, never knowing what it meant to be fully a woman, to feel cherished, desired, wanted. Damien had given her a taste of real passion-perhaps the only one she might ever know-and she wouldn’t disavow this fantasy, however fleeting.

She closed her eyes, savoring the memories of his worshiping caresses. His male scent still lingered on her skin, and she felt an absurd reluctance to wash it off…

The thought of washing was an intrusion, although a pleasant one, for it reminded her of the plans for the day. This afternoon Damien intended to introduce Olivia to the bath he had built for her in the conservatory.

Rising with an elated feeling of anticipation, Vanessa rang for her own bath.

She saw no sign of Damien that morning, however, or later at luncheon, since reportedly he was overseeing the finishing touches on his creation. Then she became busy helping Olivia prepare for the momentous event, helping her into her new bathing costume. When finally he arrived at his sister’s rooms, Vanessa still had no opportunity for a private word.

It was just as well, she reflected, that they weren’t alone, for she could scarcely meet his gaze. She suddenly felt keenly shy, while her heart fluttered in her chest in a rhythm akin to panic. Then he looked at her and smiled, a soft, quiet smile with the warmth of morning sunshine, and her pulse rate soared. Other than that brief gesture, however, he acted as if nothing unusual had occurred between them.

But, of course, Vanessa reminded herself, he wouldn’t wish to advertise their newfound intimacy with a public display of passion, most especially in front of his sister.

Damien himself accompanied Olivia into the conservatory, along with Vanessa and two maidservants. Olivia’s expression showed genuine delight at the healing bath among the roses.

“Oh, Damien, thank you,” she declared sincerely as he pushed her chair right up to the edge of the tiled pool. “You’ve gone to such trouble for me.”

“It was no trouble. Why don’t you try it and see if the design is adequate?”

He showed her how to access the bath, and with help she managed to shift herself onto the low ledge. Vanessa held the skirts of her bathing costume to one side so that she could turn and gently slide down the ramp.

With a sigh, Olivia settled into the warm, swirling water. “This is heavenly. I am in raptures.”

Vanessa scarcely heard her praise, for as Damien straightened, his shoulder briefly brushed hers. She glanced up at him sharply, deeply affected by this casual contact. For a moment, as she met the silver smoke of his eyes, she was assailed by memories of what had taken place between them last night. Her whole being throbbed with awareness of him.

She was relieved when Olivia blithely demanded that he vacate the conservatory and leave her to her bath. “Vanessa will care for me, I’m certain. I will send for you if I need you.”

Damien winced in mock offense. “I believe I have been dismissed.” But his mouth was smiling as he bowed to both ladies and turned to go.

Vanessa followed him with her eyes. She wondered how their relationship would change now that she had spent the night in his bed. It would be no hardship being his mistress, she suspected, but rather a delight and an enchantment.

She still had no chance to be alone with him, however, until that evening after dinner, when Olivia retired for the night. Damien carried his sister upstairs and returned to the drawing room, where he found Vanessa barely able to hold her eyes open.

“Forgive me, angel. I kept you awake much too long last night.”

She smiled sleepily up at him. “I don’t remember objecting very strenuously.”

He bent to kiss her forehead, the sort of chaste kiss he might give a sister. “Why don’t you retire and get some sleep?”

She gazed at him uncertainly. “Will you…”

His eyebrows rose. “Will I what?”

“Come to my room tonight?”

His beguiling smile made her heart flutter. “I was waiting with bated breath for an invitation. If you are certain you desire my company.”

“I do,” she answered boldly.

“In that case…” He settled himself beside her on the brocade settee. “Forgive me for bringing up a delicate matter, but I think it wise, under the circumstances, to take certain precautions.”

He withdrew a small scarlet silk bag from his jacket pocket. “Are you familiar with these?” he asked, letting her peer inside.

“They look like… sponges.”

“They are. When soaked in vinegar or brandy and placed in a woman’s love passage, they can prevent a man’s seed from taking root, thus avoiding impregnation.”

There were perhaps a dozen little squares of sea sponge, Vanessa saw, each with a thin string sewn onto one end.

“I should have thought of it before last night,” Damien observed. “I will be happy to show you how to use them.”

She could well imagine how they were used. The thought of Damien giving her such intimate instruction brought a flush of color to her cheeks, and forcibly reminded her of her role as Lord Sin’s mistress, as well as his desire for vengeance.

He was right, however. The scandal of a pregnancy out of wedlock would be devastating to her family.

It was possible, of course, that she was barren. She had never conceived when she was wed to Roger. But precautions were indeed wise. Her subterfuge of an innocent relationship with Damien would prove impossible to maintain were he to get her with child.

Yet the unsettled issues between them didn’t seem to matter later when Damien came to her bedchamber. She was waiting for him, curled up in a wing chair before the hearth, when the panel slid open with a whisper.

He wore a midnight blue dressing gown, which fell open as he stepped silently into the room. He was naked beneath, giving her a full frontal view of his nudity.

Nerves thrumming, she watched his lithe, graceful motion as he crossed the floor to her. His magnificent body was already aroused, his phallus huge and straining.

He took her breath away.

For a long moment their eyes held. In the candlelight his eyes were luminous, his gaze hot and burning with a passion he made no effort to disguise.

“I thought the day would never end,” he murmured hoarsely.

“I know,” she whispered as he bent to draw her to her feet.

He touched her face, his fingers long and smooth and delicious against her skin, making her shiver under his light caress. “I want you.”

Vanessa trembled, thrilled to be wanted by this magnificent, sinfully beautiful man.

Silently, then, he worked loose the tiny buttons of her night rail and pushed the garment down over her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor.

When his hand curved to the heavy ache of her breast, Vanessa shut her eyes, feeling a sweeping pleasure beneath the erotic gentleness of his touch. She quivered as he traced a finger between her breasts and downward to her narrow waist, then slowly back up again.

When his thumb brushed against the rigid peak of her nipple, a melting glow began deep inside her, along with a fierce, tender craving.

She needed no other urging. With a pleasured sigh, Vanessa lifted her arms to entwine them about his neck. Damien’s hot, sensual mouth came down to meet hers, while the night rose up and wrapped them in all its vibrant, sweet magic…

He visited her room nightly after that. Damien proved an exquisite tutor, exploring the sensual side of her nature and confronting her inhibitions. Vanessa felt as if she were living in an enchanted dream.

By tacit agreement they never spoke about their relationship, not wanting reality to intrude. She refused to contemplate the future, or dwell on the fact that by sharing her bed, Damien was only satisfying his desire for vengeance. She’d been compelled to accept his infamous bargain to ensure her family’s survival after her brother had recklessly gambled away their very livelihood. Yet it grew harder each day to remember her purpose for being here.

The following week saw a change in Damien’s relationship with his sister as well. While Olivia still retreated into bouts of moodiness periodically, she seemed genuinely determined to shrug off her anger and despair and to accept his offer of a closer friendship. Moreover, for the first time she expressed a desire to leave her bed, not only for her daily baths and regular visits to the gardens, but to venture out onto the vast estate grounds.

Since the weather had turned cool and rainy, it took some persuading on Olivia’s part to convince Damien that the dampness wouldn’t harm her. But occasionally when there was a break in the clouds, he took her on short drives in the country, wrapping her in warm blankets to prevent her from taking a chill.