Page 69 of A Cinderella to Redeem the Earl
Was he saying they would no longer be together? The thought shocked her. Sent a piercing pain straight to her heart as if she had been struck by something sharp.
He had never made her any promises. Indeed, if she thought about it, he had almost deliberately avoided talking about the future until now. As she had. Because they both knew there was no future. She was not the sort of woman a nobleman could marry. She had been mistress to two men now. And thoroughly enjoyed it, if she was to be honest.
But now, when it was clear they would likely soon go their separate ways, she could only wish things could be different. That she could be different.
Choices. He made it sound as if it was a good thing. But there was one choice she did not have. To go back and start again. She tried to sound happy, not miserable. ‘So I do.’
She hoped her misery did not colour her words.
Damian hadn’t thought breaking the news to Pamela would be easy, but he had not expected it to be so damnably difficult. Or that he would feel quite so guilty. Or feel a sense of loss. But then he had glimpsed all of the future.
She took a deep breath as if steadying herself. ‘Let us make sure your Christmas ball is the best party any of them have ever attended. Really leave them wanting more.’ The bravery in her voice caused his heart to seize as if it had been stabbed by a knife.
He wanted to hug her and tell her everything would be fine. But that would be an outright lie. He never lied when he could tell the truth. Or at least some of it.
‘That’s the ticket,’ he said. ‘You do not know what the future will bring.’ He knew. Some of it.
‘When is your ball to be held?’
‘In three weeks’ time. It will be one of the biggest social events of the season. A masquerade, of course.’
It would also be the last time anyone in London would admit to knowing him, if it all went well.
‘You will act as my hostess, of course.’
She rose up on her elbow, looking down at him, her expression angry. ‘Certainly not. That will not do at all. Everyone will recognise me as the woman who runs your gambling hell. Your ball will be considered beyond the pale, should you attempt to foist me off on theton. No one will attend.’
He sat up with a frown and cupped her cheek in his hand. ‘None of my guests has ever seen your face.’ He kissed the tip of her nose.
She jerked away. ‘It will take them but a moment to recognise me. It is impossible.’
He lay back down and stretched. ‘Leave it with me. Nothing is impossible.’
‘I mean it. I will help you from behind the scenes, but that is all I will do.’ She lay down with her head on his shoulder and was quiet for a while. ‘Will there be gambling, the same as here?’ She wrinkled her nose, no doubt thinking there were those among thetonwho would likely not be impressed.
‘There will be a card room. It is expected. But nothing like our parties here. Just tables available for people to play cards. No croupiers.’
She chuckled. ‘No special rooms upstairs, either. We don’t want to shock all the old denizens.’
But that was exactly what would happen, but for a completely different reason.
She snuggled closer, her lithe body fitting along his side, her leg resting on his thigh in a most erotic manner.
His body hardened. ‘We will go over the details later—right now I have other things on my mind.’ He rolled towards her and kissed her cheek.
She glanced down at where his erection pressed against her thigh. ‘So I see.’
Such an earthy woman. Direct. Honest. Incredibly passionate. He was going to miss her terribly when they parted. And that was not all he would miss. He would miss her companionship. A strange pang caught at his heart.
Not once in his adult life had he felt any regret about ending an affair.
For some reason Pamela was different. It was almost as if they were made for each other. He shook his head at himself for his maudlin thoughts.
She was not the woman for him. Their pasts made it impossible.
She reached for him.
‘Slowly does it,’ he murmured. He wanted to savour what might be some of their last moments together. ‘Let us take our time. I want you out of those clothes first.’
