“You are so soft,” he said, stroking her intimately. “You are driving me mad.”

She realized that he was opening the front of his trousers. When she glanced down she caught a glimpse of his hand wrapped around his erection. He removed a square of white linen from another pocket and dropped it on the bench beside her.

Fascinated, she started to reach down to touch him, but he was already pushing himself into the melting core of her body. The pressure felt very, very good. She wanted more. Desperate, she urged him closer.

He gripped her buttocks and pulled her onto his shaft with a single violent thrust, sinking himself to the hilt inside her.

Pain arced across her overwrought senses. Jolted by the abrupt transition from unbearable desire to unpleasant reality, she gasped and went utterly still.

“Damnation.” Anthony froze, also. “You’re a virgin.”

“Well, yes, but I really don’t see that as the issue here.”

“Why in blazes didn’t you tell me that you were a virgin?”

He sounded furious. What right did he have to be angry at her? She was the one who was in pain.

“I did not think it was any of your business,” she said, her temper crackling to life.

“How can you say that it is none of my business?”

Anger swept through her, dampening some of the physical discomfort. “Really, sir, you would hardly expect me to discuss such intimate details of my life with a gentleman with whom I am barely acquainted.”

He looked down at her with a strange expression. “May I remind you that you are in the midst of making love to a gentleman with whom you are barely acquainted?”

“We are not making love,” she said gruffly, not wanting to admit to herself, just how much that fact hurt. “We are engaging in an act of illicit passion.”

“I see. You are an authority on such matters?”

“Illicit trysts are different. One is under no obligation to confide one’s personal affairs to one’s lover.”

“I cannot believe that I am receiving a lecture from you on the subject of how one conducts an illicit love affair.”

She winced. “I think it would be best if you, uh, removed yourself, sir. As you can tell we are not a good match.”

“How would you know?” he said, making no move to retreat.

“I would think it is obvious. You are much too big.”

“I think we are a perfect fit.”

He started to ease out of her. She held her breath.

But he stopped just short of her entrance and pushed slowly, steadily back into her.

She gasped. “I really don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Allow me to inform you, Mrs. Bryce, that you are no expert.”

He kissed her deeply, silencing her before she could argue further.

He repeated the movement, withdrawing almost entirely and then stroking deeply back into her. The sensation was not painful this time, but neither was it pleasurable. She was stretched so tight she could scarcely breathe. Still, it wasn’t a bad feeling.

Perhaps predictably, her lamentable curiosity unfurled, suppressing disappointment.

“Very well, if you insist,” she said, wriggling a little in an effort to get more comfortable. “But please be quick about it.”

Anthony stilled again, buried inside her.

She opened her eyes and saw that he was looking down at her with an unreadable expression. Chagrined, she put her hands on each side of his face.

“Oh, dear, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” she said anxiously. “Feel free to carry on. I won’t say another word.”

“Do I have your promise on that?”

“Absolutely, sir. As long as we have gone this far, we may as well finish the business.”

“Have a care, my sweet. Such romantic talk will make me swoon.”

She was mortified. She was also furious. The mixture proved highly combustible. She caught his shoulders and pulled him closer.

“Damnation, Anthony. Get on with it.”

He said something under his breath that she could not make out, but he finally began to move in quick, tight strokes. Her body seemed to have adjusted itself to his now. If the sensations she was experiencing were not the thrilling ones she had anticipated, neither were they altogether unpleasant.

If Anthony found pleasure in this, she could tolerate the exercise.

“Damn it to hell.” He sounded as though he was having difficulty breathing. “This is your fault. You have played havoc with my self-control tonight.”

“What is my fault? What do you intend to blame on me? How dare you—”

“You promised not to talk,” he said, teeth clenched. “Damn.”

Worried by the low, savage groan that underlay the oath, she opened her eyes. “Are you all right?”

He did not respond. Instead he suddenly jerked free of her body and grabbed the handkerchief. He wrapped it around the head of his erection.

In the dim light she could see that his eyes were squeezed shut. His lips were parted and drawn back in a silent groan. His teeth flashed dangerously in the darkness. And then it was over. He propped himself against the workbench, breathing heavily. He did not open his eyes.

“Damn,” he said again, very softly this time.

She waited, uncertain of what one did in a situation like this. The authors of sensation novels did not cover this sort of thing in the books that she had read.

Worried, she gently touched his arm.

“Anthony?”

He opened his eyes partway.

She shivered uneasily when she saw the way he was looking at her.

“Are you ill?” she asked.

“An interesting question.”

He straightened and turned away from her, swiftly adjusting his trousers. She hopped down off the workbench. That proved to be a mistake. Her thighs were so wobbly she had to grab hold of the bench to steady herself. She arranged her skirts with awkward hands, aware of a distinctly uncomfortable sensation between her legs.

“My apologies, sir,” she said brusquely.

He turned around again, alarmingly cool and back in control. “For allowing me to believe that you were a woman of the world?”

“No, for encouraging you a few minutes ago. Although, in my own defense, I must admit that I expected a somewhat different result.”

“What, exactly, did you expect, Louisa?”

She waved a hand, glad that the shadows hid her blush. “I’m sure you understand. One hears so much about the thrill of illicit passion, doesn’t one?”

“I couldn’t say.”

“You probably don’t read a lot of novels.”

“No.”

“But you must have seen your sister’s marvelous plays.”

“In her plays illicit love affairs always come to a bad end.”

“That’s not the point.” She groped for the right words. “The thing is, based on what I have read and seen on the stage, I anticipated a more, shall we say, transcendent experience.”

“Transcendent,” he repeated neutrally.

“That is the way forbidden passion is portrayed, you see.” She sighed. “I should have realized that there is a reason why every woman in England is not running around indulging in illicit love affairs.”

“It was your first time, Louisa. First times are always awkward.”

A thought struck her. “Hmm.”

He caught her chin on the edge of his hand and raised her face so that she had to meet his eyes. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” she said hastily.

“Given what I have just gone through, I think I deserve an answer.”

“Very well, if you insist. It occurred to me that the problem here may have been you, not me.”

“You’re blaming your failure to achieve transcendence on me?”

“No, no, of course not. Not entirely.” She cleared her throat. “It is certainly not your fault that nature chose to overly endow certain portions of your anatomy.” She paused, considering the subject more closely. “Perhaps a smaller man—”