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At the end of this month, Mistress by Marriage comes out. This book starts at a different place than most romances–my couple are already married, but have definitely not found their happily ever after, except when they’re in bed. Caroline has a scandalous background,  is impulsive and warm. Her husband Edward hails from the “Cold Christies,” who are proper, dependable and just a touch…rigid, and not in a good way. ;)  They were doomed to failure from the beginning, right?

Not if I have anything to say about it. *g* Of the three Mistress books, it’s closest to my heart (and my life, LOL). The contest this month on my site invites you to find out for yourself. I’m giving away all three Courtesan Court books, but the winner has to tell me her favorite!

In the beginning of the book, Edward thinks he wants a divorce, and the scene below introduces the dreaded subject as they meet for their odd once-a-year reunion. But for a man of steady habits and opinions, Caroline later changes his mind without even trying.

***

            For such a cold man, Edward was a marvel in bed. Of course, she had very little to compare him to, but it seemed from the observations of her neighbors, not all men were as equipped or as efficient as Edward. And by efficient, Caroline did not mean speedy. Edward was agonizingly, teasingly, thoroughly slow, but guaranteed to bring her to orgasm every single time. Not just one puny little frisson, but wave upon wave of cliff-climbing, precipitous descent and shrieking. Caroline knew her responsiveness frightened him; no doubt his first wife, the paragon Alice, had just lain there and said, “Thank you,” if she said anything at all. Caroline’s language was substantially more colorful and less constrained.

            She lay in the wreck of her bed now, dripping everywhere from delicious depravity. Edward stared up at the ceiling, his mouth puckered.

            “There’s a mirror up there.”

            “Yes, it came with the house. Have you never noticed it before?”

            “I have not. We never made it to the bed last year as I recall.”

            “But it was there the two years previous. I assure you I did not install it.”

            “What do you do with it?”

            “I? Why nothing. Scare myself silly when I wake up in the morning.” She grinned, meeting his eyes in the mirror. His dark hair was a bit mussed, but she looked like she’d been caught in a tempest at sea, washed overboard and with her last gasping breath barely crawled to shore in time.

            “It’s indecent.”

            She shrugged. “So am I. If you don’t care for it, I can have it removed.”

            Edward sat up. “Don’t bother. My preferences will not count in the future. There will be no need for Yorkshire pudding for our yearly dinner. I—we cannot do this thing, whatever it is, anymore.”

            Despite the flattering candlelight, he had seen she was heavier. Older. She fought to keep the fear out of her voice. “I didn’t please you?”

            “This has nothing to do with pleasing. If you must know, you make me burn, Caroline. I cannot find myself around you. I disappear in some puff of sulfur and become the Devil himself. It must stop.”

            She put a reassuring hand on his forearm. “You’re just a mortal man, Edward, with carnal needs like any other. If you indulged yourself more frequently—”

            “Indulge! This is more than indulgence. This is disease! Sickness!”

            Caroline forced a laugh. “How melodramatic! What a Puritan you are. It’s just sexual congress, Edward. Everyone does it.”

            But she knew it was more, too. For a buttoned-up man like Edward, the loss of self-control was like a loss of honor. He hated her for striking his flinty heart and igniting flames of passion that he couldn’t control. Just as she hated him, when she wasn’t loving him.

            “I’m going to talk to Will. He can advise me on how best I can bring suit for divorce. Neither of us can continue this half-life. If you hadn’t—” He paused. Caroline wanted him to say it. Needed him to say it so she could finally say her own peace. But he didn’t. “No, I’ll not blame you. We simply don’t suit and never have.”

            He had turned away from her, his face in profile, his voice wooden. In the mirror above she saw the muscle in his chiseled cheek flick. It was costing him to be so dispassionate. Caroline wished he’d explode, be anyone but this calm, reasonable stranger, but she knew better. Edward was always calm and reasonable, even when his world was imploding.

***

Do you explode like Caroline or simmer silently like Edward?