Reunited With His Long-Lost Cinderella. Laura Martin
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from one another. Of course, she wanted to get to know the man Ben had become, but perhaps she should show him she was ready to become an active participant in a more physical relationship as well?
The idea thrilled her and Francesca felt herself blushing. She wasn’t supposed to be so scandalous, so reckless, but she was beginning to understand the excitement in the eyes of her friends who had conducted affairs over the years. With her mind made up she stepped through to the bedroom.
Quickly she unfastened her dress, pleased she’d chosen a simple grey sack-like thing to wear for ease of undressing. Underneath she wore a chemise and petticoats and a fine pair of stockings to try to combat the icy temperatures. The petticoats she took off, folding everything neatly and placing them on a chair, then she slipped in between the sheets and waited.
Apprehension mixed with excitement. Never before had she done anything so scandalous, anything so ill advised. She’d always been a good girl, doing everything her family had asked of her, everything her husband had commanded her to. Now she was nervous, but making this decision herself felt freeing.
The door opened and from her position she could just see Ben re-enter. At first he didn’t see her, glancing around the sitting room with a frown on his face.
‘Tea will just be...’ He trailed off as he caught sight of her. His eyes widened and immediately Francesca knew she had made a mistake. ‘What are you doing in my bed, Frannie?’ he asked, his voice low. She noticed he hadn’t taken a single step towards her and was holding on to the back of one of the chairs so firmly his knuckles were turning white.
The blush seemed to start at her toes and work its way up her entire body until the skin of her cheeks were burning.
‘I thought...’ she said, trailing off as she realised she couldn’t actually voice what she’d thought.
Slowly, trying not to draw attention to the movement, she pulled the bedsheets a little further up so they touched her chin.
The seconds seemed to stretch into hours as neither of them moved. Then she felt a thrill of excitement and nerves as he moved towards her. Gently he sat down on the bed, making no move to touch her, and for the first time she wondered if she had read the situation wrong. Perhaps he didn’t desire her, perhaps he still thought of her as the ten-year-old girl he’d known all those years ago. Perhaps the gossips had it wrong and he was happily married and faithful to his wife.
‘Frannie,’ he said, his voice strained, ‘you have no idea how much I want to get into that bed with you.’
She waited, wanting to hear exactly what it was that was stopping him.
‘But if I do, then it might jeopardise our chance to get to know one another again.’
‘When you said...’ she started speaking, but couldn’t finish the sentence.
His eyes raked over her and she watched as he swallowed and gripped the sheets as if having to hold himself back. A thrill of excitement travelled through her body as she realised she did this to him.
‘I want you,’ he said, his voice like crushed rock. ‘But I don’t just want your body.’
‘I’m practically engaged...’ Francesca said, wondering if she had led him to believe there could be anything long-term between them.
‘I know that,’ he said, ‘And I will respect your engagement. When it happens. But I don’t just want to tumble into bed with you and then go our separate ways.’
‘What do you want?’ she asked, her fingers edging closer to his. It was hard to resist this man whom she felt she knew so well, but knew was largely a stranger.
‘I want to know you, Frannie. Find out what you’ve been doing these years. See what makes you smile, what makes you cry.’
‘Why?’ she asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.
‘I’ve missed you. Eighteen years I tried to forget about you and I couldn’t. When I return to Australia in a few months I would like to have some new memories to take with me.’
The mention of his return to Australia pulled Francesca back from indulging in some romantic but ridiculous fantasy of them riding off into the horizon together. They had eight days—eight days to become reacquainted and make the most of each other before he returned to his life and she moved on to the next stage of hers.
‘I need to get dressed,’ she said, unable to meet his eye.
‘Go ahead.’ He gestured to her clothes on the chair, but did not turn around or make any move to give her some privacy for at least thirty seconds. Then he growled something under his breath and moved out of the bedroom.
Closing her eyes to compose herself, she sat up in bed, letting the bedclothes drop from her chin and feeling her skin prickle under her chemise as the cool air of the room chilled her. She felt a little disappointed that her first foray into the scandalous world of affairs had ended so sedately, but she had to concede Ben was right. It would be good to get to know him, to find out all the things she’d had spent the past eighteen years wondering about. And if she read the look in his eyes correctly, it wouldn’t be long before they had another opportunity to enjoy one another in a more intimate fashion in any case...
* * *
Resting his head against the cool plaster of the wall outside his rooms, Ben took a deep breath to steady himself. Never before had he walked away from a beautiful woman in his bed. Then again, never before had his heart pounded every time he looked at a woman.
Be careful, he cautioned himself. He hardly knew the woman, but he knew himself. This wasn’t how he reacted to a woman, however attractive. He’d never had trouble resisting someone before, never found it hard to move on. It had only been a couple of days since Francesca had waltzed back into his life, but already he was finding it hard to imagine her married to another man while he returned to Australia.
‘You should have kissed her,’ he growled to himself. When he had first seen her in his bed he had wanted nothing more than to tumble her back between the sheets and spend days getting to know her intimately. It had taken all his willpower to resist and even now he was regretting it a little.
Despite the desire that still raged through his body, he knew he’d made the right decision. Ben was under no illusion that in a couple of weeks they would have to go their separate ways and he didn’t want to jeopardise any of that time by causing Francesca to feel rushed into a physical relationship. In a week or two things would be different and they would be ready to enjoy each other’s company in every way possible. But today he’d seen the apprehension in her eyes, the nerves. When they tumbled into bed together there would be no uncertainty, no doubt in her mind that it was the right thing.
Closing his eyes, he saw the image of her sitting up in bed, clothed only in a simple cotton chemise. That would certainly haunt his dreams in the weeks to come. Of course he shouldn’t have looked. He should have been a gentleman and turned away. But it had been hard enough walking out through the door—he wasn’t going to torture himself over one look.
‘I should go,’ Francesca said, slipping out of his rooms and passing him quickly.
Instinctively he reached out and caught her by the arm, feeling her stiffen under his touch.
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