Leo felt as if he had limitless staying power. He felt as if he were drifting godlike above the two joined bodies, capable of bringing them both to the extremes of physical bliss. He was filled with the burning need to take his lover to the top of her mountain, to the absolute pinnacle beyond which there was only infinity. And he would do this not once but many, many times during the next hours. He wanted to brand her with his lovemaking so that nothing and no one would ever erase the glorious memories of this night.
Where Michael had violated her, exploited her weakness, he would show her the perfect joy of surrender. He passed his flat palms up her bent back, pressing his thumbs into the vertebrae. Her back arched in response, her inner muscles tightened around him. He scribbled a path with his nails down her back and over her bottom. Her body rippled around him. He drew back for a second, then plunged deeply, and she convulsed around him. He remained inside her, his own responses now well in control.
Cordelia sobbed her pleasure into the sofa cushions, and then he began to move again inside her. His hand slid beneath her belly, reaching down to touch her so that the muscles of her belly tightened and the pleasure built again, rippling through her in little rivulets that gradually swelled to a full stream. The instant before the stream burst its banks, he slid from her. He turned her over on the sofa, rested his bent knees on the arm, drew her legs high onto his shoulders, and entered her again.
Cordelia existed in her own darkness, every nerve centered on the one part of her body that seemed truly alive. She thought she couldn't bear another dissolution, another moment of this intense pleasure, but she found she could. Not once more but many more times during the next hours. She was mindless, sightless, insatiable.
The stars faded, the sky lightened, red streaks of dawn filled the sky outside the window. Neither of them noticed in the reckless world of their own entrancement. But eventually Leo could hold back no longer. Cordelia sat astride his lap on the end of the bed, her hands on his shoulders, her lips parted, head thrown back, as she held him tight within, moving only her inner muscles.
The instant before the wave broke, Leo fell back on the bed, holding her tight against him as he rolled sideways, finally separating their joined bodies.
Cordelia lay bathed in sweat, prostrate, unable to move or think. When Leo moved her head sideways and unfastened the blindfold, she protested weakly, so accustomed was she now to her own private darkness that the intrusion of the visible world was a violation. Her eyes closed against the unfamiliar light, and she was immediately unconscious, sleeping the sleep of total exhaustion.
Leo's right hand rested on Cordelia's breast, the fingers splayed; the other hand was flung around her waist. His body felt hammered into the thick feather mattress, and even the growing light in the room and the knowledge that they were moving into a dangerous time couldn't prevent him from sleeping.
He awoke soon enough, fully alert, his heart hammering as he listened to the sounds in the corridor outside. People were talking and moving around. From the courtyard below came the clarion call of a herald's trumpet as the night guard was changed.
"Hell and the devil!" he muttered, pushing himself onto an elbow, looking down at the unconscious figure beside him. Despite his anxiety he smiled, brushing a tangled ringlet from her cheek. She was so beautiful. And dear God in heaven, what a partner in love. Not once had she fallen behind, not once had she pleaded exhaustion, not once had she failed to divine what he wanted of her.
She had woven such chains about him, gossamer chains of love that were nevertheless adamantine. How had it happened that in a few short weeks this young girl had bewitched him out of all rational sense?
His eye flickered to the bracelet that he didn't think he'd ever seen her without. Elvira had always worn it too, he remembered. It was a curious piece of jewelry, undeniably beautiful but with something almost repellent about it. And yet both its owners had rarely taken it off. But surely it must symbolize marriage to Michael? A bondage to a loathsome man. Cordelia daily struggled against those bonds. Had Elvira also? Had Elvira suffered in the same way? Had the bracelet symbolized bondage for her too?
Cordelia stirred, her eyelids fluttered up. She caught his expression as he looked down at her before he had time to banish the dark thoughts. "What is it?" She reached up a hand to touch his face. "Were you thinking of Elvira?"
Her intuitive insight was uncanny. He caught her wrist, bringing it down so that he could examine the bracelet. "Why do you never take this off?"
Cordelia frowned. "I don't know. I didn't realize that I don't. Don't you care for it? It belonged to Elvira, I know. I saw it on her wrist in the portrait in the library on the rue du Bac."
"She never took it off either," he commented. "And no, I don't like it."
Cordelia examined it closely. "It's unique, I'm sure there's not another one like it in the world. The jeweler at Schonbrunn said as much. But it is a little sinister, I suppose."
"The temptations of Eve," he said. "But why would you wear a present that Michael gave you to mark a betrothal that has brought you nothing but suffering?" '
Cordelia's frown deepened. She had never thought of the bracelet in that way. Somehow it just seemed to belong on her wrist. "I won't wear it if you dislike it," she said slowly. "But don't you think Michael might wonder if he noticed that I had suddenly stopped wearing it?"
"Yes, I'm sure," he said with a careless shake of his head. "It's of no consequence, Cordelia. I was just struck by its curious design." He swung himself off the bed. "What is of consequence is getting you back to your own apartment without drawing attention to yourself. The entire place is awake."
Cordelia peered blearily at the discarded heap of clothes in the middle of the room. "I can't put those on again."
"I don't see much choice." He swung himself off the bed. "Come, let me help you."
Cordelia got gingerly off the bed. "I'm sore," she complained. "How did that happen?"
Leo couldn't help laughing. "Use your imagination. If it's any consolation, you're not the only sufferer."
"I don't think I could sit on a horse," she said with a mock grimace, coming over to him, slipping her arms around his neck, pressing her naked body against his. "And we're to go to the hunt this morning."
Leo glanced over his shoulder at the window, where it was full daylight. "In less than an hour," he said ruefully, reaching behind him to break her hold. "Be good now, Cordelia." He picked up her chemise and dumped it in her arms. "Hurry."
"Oh, Lord!" Cordelia groaned. There were clear penalties for a night of unbridled lovemaking. She pulled the garment over her head. "I won't bother with stockings and garters,
no one will be able to tell under my skirt. What about my corset? I can't wear it if the laces are cut." She stepped into her first petticoat.
"I'll get rid of it." Leo shrugged into a dressing gown as he went over to the window. The court below was abustle, horses, wagons, soldiers going about the business of the new day.
Cordelia balled up her stockings and garters in her fist. She sat down to manipulate her shoes over her bare feet. "There, now I'm as dressed as I'll ever be at this point. Shall I just go?"
"No, wait." He went to the door and opened it, holding up an arresting hand as he looked down the stairs, then backward along the corridor. "All right, hurry!"
Cordelia darted to the door, reaching up to kiss him. He was prepared for a light farewell embrace, but she threw her arms around his neck, palming his scalp, pulling his head down to hers with all the passionate fervor of the night. He wanted to yield, but knew that they couldn't. He still held the door open and broke her hold almost roughly. "For pity's sake, Cordelia! We have less than an hour." He pushed her through the door and closed it briskly at her back.