The Property of a Lady - Elizabeth Adler [149]
Missie could not help but remember that last time she had stood by the deck rail, four years before, waiting for her first sight of the great city and wondering what her new life held in store for her. Now she was leaving Sofia behind, buried in an alien land; and her friend Rosa who had become as dear to her as Azaylee, and the two men who had helped and encouraged her. But she was married to a man she was crazy about and at last Azaylee would lead the kind of life that was hers by birth. She hoped Misha would have been proud of her. Even though she was married to Eddie, she knew he would always be her first, true love.
They dined quietly, alone at a table in the corner in the huge dining room with its dramatic staircase where society and celebrities descended in style, pausing first at the top so that everyone might see them. Eddie poured wine with a liberal hand and afterward they took a stroll around the promenade deck, lurching and laughing as the sea roughened. He put his arm around her protectively, glancing at his watch. “It’s getting late,” he said, turning toward the staterooms. “Shall we?”
The stewardess had unpacked for her and Beulah had arranged all her things the way she knew she liked them; her face creams and powders in shiny crystal pots were laid out on the dressing table next to her silver hairbrushes and the tall spray flacon of Elise perfume. Her beautiful new dresses hung neatly in the closets, her hats in their lilac boxes stored on shelves above, and her lovely new shoes lined up in rows below. A wonderful mink coat, Elise’s wedding present, was shrouded in its own special bag, and the case containing her jewels was locked in the safe in her dressing room. I am a rich woman, she thought, amazed. I can have whatever I like, do whatever I want. Just like Anouska. But the only thing she wanted was her new husband, waiting impatiently for her in their bedroom.
After casting off her clothes, she bathed and put on one of her trousseau nightdresses. Elise had really gone to town on this one, pure white finest silk crêpe-de-Chine, slit to the waist front and back and lavished with ecru lace. She brushed her hair until it shone, letting it fall forward over her half-naked breasts. Then, putting on the matching peignoir and the satin slippers, she sprayed herself with the lily perfume. Taking a deep breath, she walked slowly into the bedroom.
Eddie was sitting on the couch, wearing a navy silk robe and matching pajamas, reading a newspaper.
He glanced up as she came in, then his eyes narrowed and a faint flush stained his cheeks. “My dear Verity, you look … charming,” he said quietly.
He turned off the lamps, leaving on just the one near the bed. “Come here, to me,” he said, striding across the room and taking her in his arms.
His rough kisses took her breath away. They were different from before, urgent, demanding. “Please, please, Eddie,” she murmured, gasping as he took his mouth from hers at last. “Let me breathe!”
Laughing, he took her to the bed, pulling off her peignoir and the lacy straps from her shoulders, burying his face in her breasts. She trembled in his arms, not knowing how to make love to him.
“Eddie, you’ll have to show me, tell me what to do,” she whispered, stroking his smooth blond hair.
“Take off the nightdress,” he commanded, standing up and shedding his robe.
Blushing, she did as he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed, her hands modestly clasped in her lap.
“That’s better,” he said in a sort of groan, pushing her backward onto the bed. And then he was on top of her and his fingers were plunging cruelly into her and she moaned in pain.
“That’s it,” he cried excitedly, “I like to hear you moan.” Suddenly he was thrusting himself into her, again and again, harder and harder, and she was screaming with the pain. She pleaded with him to stop, gazing at him beseechingly through her tears. But his eyes were closed, his head thrown way back, his face a grimace of