Page 40 of Landen

The Sussex Theaterhad been around for the past fifty years and was as sumptuous andelegantly furnished as it was when it opened its doors.

Strong toweringpillars, graceful arches, and soaring ceilings were some of itsinteresting features, not to mention the thick, lush red carpet forits patrons to sink their feet into. The building took up severalblocks and was in the middle of a swanky restaurant and severalstorefront shops.

Of course, Tessa hadnever been inside the building before because it catered to the verywealthy and elite society, who could afford the extravagant fees,which included champagne, caviar, and plush, comfortable chairs.

Looking darklyhandsome in his elegant tux, Landen seemed at home in hissurroundings, which painfully reminded her of the difference betweenthem. He gripped her gloved hand and entwined their fingers togetheras if he knew where her thoughts were taking her.

Ever since the carleft them at the front of the theater, he had held her hand, hisfingers sliding through hers. It was as if he was saying to the worldthat he had made his decision and damn the consequences.

“Here we are.”His deep, accented voice broke through her thoughts and made heraware that they were being directed to the front rows of the upperfloors.

“A privatebox?”

He nodded, makingsure she was seated before sitting down. “We happen to be avidpatrons.” Accepting the glasses of champagne, he handed herone.

“I never askedthe name of the play?”

“An Elizabethandrama,” he told her with a grin.

“I should haveguessed.” She responded dryly, taking a sip of the champagne.Turning her head, she looked around the semi-darkened room,fascinated at the glitter of stunning jewelry and dresses the womenwore. And that she recognized some of the faces.

“Isn’tthat the Vice president?” She whispered, leaning close to himso her voice would not carry.

“You tell me,”he whispered, his arm going around her shoulders and keeping herthere.

“It is.”The excitement in her voice had him grinning. He had been soaccustomed to these surroundings that he had taken them for granted,but seeing the enchanted look on her exquisite face made it all newand exciting for him.

She turned wideeyes to look at him, and he took the opportunity to bury his lips onhers. For a few minutes, the people milling around them and thechampagne in their hands were forgotten as they gloried in theemotions churning in their bodies.

Lifting his mouthfrom hers, he held her against him, his heart thudding inside hischest. Tessa leaned weakly against him, her body feeling as if itwere boneless.

“The show isabout to start,” he murmured huskily, still fighting forcontrol.

Stirring herself, shetried to sit up, but he held her against him with her head resting onhis shoulder. Settling in that comfortable position, she watched thered velvet curtain unfurl to reveal a vast, dimly lit stage.

Within minutes, shewas absorbed in the story of a beleaguered queen forced into reignwhen her father passed suddenly. Landen had watched the play severaltimes before and spent a pleasurable hour staring at the woman in hisarms.

He smiled tenderly ather heartfelt reactions to what was happening on stage. At one point,she grabbed his hand and dug her fingers into his palm. He couldn’tget enough of her, he thought numbly.

He had escortedcountless women to the theater before, not just in his country butall over the world, and never felt the urge to wrap his arms aroundthem or feel the need to ravish them inside the box. That was what hewas feeling now.

Tessa’s slenderbody was pressed against his, and he could feel his body hardeningwith lust. Mentally shaking his head, he wondered what it was aboutthis one woman that made him feel as if he was going to explode.

He was used tobeautiful women and had had his fair share. But he wasn’t incontrol of his emotions for the first time. This slender,intoxicating beauty in his arms brought out the animal inside him.She made him vulnerable and strong at the same time. She waspassionate and giving; the more he was with her, the more he wantedto be with her.

He had been broughtup to be rigid and not show his emotions, which were only supposed tobe on the surface. That had never been a problem for him before. Hewas an Englishman and a sort of nobility. He had been reared to guardhis feelings if he had any deep feelings.

It would not doto show enthusiasm or emotions; it was unbecoming for a man of hisstation. Crying was not allowed, not even when he had fallen andskinned his knee. When he was ten years old, his horse had thrown himas he was making an exceptionally high jump, and he had broken hisleft wrist.

The pain had beenexcruciating, but he had gritted his teeth and bore down because hisfather would have been displeased if he uttered a peak.

Now, it was as if allthe suppressed emotions were clamoring to be released, and he wasfeeling everything simultaneously. He wanted to touch her constantly,and whenever she was not around, he missed her like crazy.

His hand tightenedaround her shoulder, lifting her head to look at him.

“Enjoying theshow, love?” He whispered.

“Immensely,”she whispered back.

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