Julia’s relief was beyond measure when the evening finally ended. Painfully sensible of Alec’s threat, she tarried in the vestibule until the last guest left, very aware of her husband’s presence. Lucien must have realized something was untoward, for he lingered, casting concerned glances at Julia. When Alec finally escorted his friend to the door, Julia tried to make her escape.
“Julia.”
She paused, one foot on the bottom step, and took a deep breath. Pasting a bright smile on her face, she turned. “That went well, didn’t it? But so tiring! Goodnight.” Julia placed her foot back on the step. To her surprise, he did not argue.
“Yes, it has been a long day.”
Julia breathed a sigh of relief and continued up the stairs. She hadn’t taken more than a few steps when she realized her error. He was following her—and much too closely.
With every step she took, his footfall echoed. She even fancied she could feel his knee brushing the back of her skirt. As she neared the top of the stairs, her bedroom door loomed in front of her. Julia felt like Joan of Arc facing her executioners, each second bringing her closer to her ultimate end.
Finally, she placed her foot on the top of the landing and distinctly felt Alec’s hand brush hers on the railing. She snatched it away, the touch burning up her arm. She had dreamed that one day Alec and she might share the intimacies of marriage, but not this way. Not as the result of an argument.
Stopping outside her bedroom door, she whirled and faced him, disconcerted to find him not even half a pace behind her. He was so close, she was forced to retreat until the doorknob pressed into the small of her back. “There’s no need to go any further. If you wish to yell at me, we might as well do it here.”
Alec lifted a hand and placed it on the door frame, his sleeve just brushing her hair. “I am not going to yell.”
“The veins in your forehead are bulging.”
He placed his other hand on the opposite side of the door frame until he had caged her within his muscular arms. “You can either open the door and enter of your own free accord, or I will pick you up and carry you.” His mouth lifted in a rakish grin that sent her heart tumbling. “But it will be one or the other, love.”
Julia wet her lips. “A-are you threatening violence?”
“I make no threats.” His breath stirred the hair at her temple. “Only promises.”
“How can you think…as if I would walk right into my room and lie down and…you cannot expect me to do such a thing.”
His silver gaze rested on her mouth for the longest time before he abruptly straightened from the door and crossed his arms. “I did and I do.”
It was ludicrous. Silly. Impossible. Julia crossed her arms and stared back. “I could not possibly do…that, without love.”
Alec’s mouth quirked in a devastating smile. “That, to many people, is love.”
She sniffed. “Not to me, it isn’t.”
“Oh, yes. I had forgotten.” His face darkened. “You’ve been in love for four years with someone who hasn’t deigned to notice. How very noble.”
His sneer was more than she could bear. “That is none of your concern.”
For a second he appeared astounded, then his scowl returned in full force. His hands closed into fists as, with a fierce curse, he turned on his heel and stalked away, trampling across her heart in the process. Without a backward glance, he strode back down the steps into the study and slammed the door behind him.
Julia placed a hand across her mouth to still the desire to call after him. God knew she was no beauty, and never would be. But she had seen the unmistakable glimmer of desire in his gray gaze on more than one occasion. Like an idiot, she had dared to hope it might blossom into something more, given time and care.
But it was not to be. Shoulders slumped, Julia entered her own room and readied for bed, dressing by rote. Fighting tears, she pulled her nightrail over her head and sat at the dressing table, where she methodically twisted her hair into a heavy braid.
It was depressing to love a man who didn’t know the meaning of the word. And she had loved him since she’d first laid eyes on him, even though he’d been so far above her reach, she had never faced her own feelings. Now, seeing him every day, and discovering for herself that he could be kind, gentle, and so much more than he gave himself credit for, was pure torture.
She caught sight of her tear-blurred reflection and sniffed, gathering her resolve. “That’s enough of that,” she scolded the weakling in the mirror. “They don’t call him Devil Hunterston for nothing. He’s far from perfect.”
Tonight was an excellent example of his shortcomings. He’d bullied her, threatened her and practically forced himself into her room. If she dwelled long enough on the last one, she could almost remove the lingering hint of disappointment that he did not see fit to follow through.
Buoyed by the realization that, of the two, she was the infinitely superior in character, virtue, and eloquence, she climbed into bed. Julia then blew out her candle and whiled away the time waiting to fall asleep by categorizing all her rakehell husband’s faults.
Chapter 22
It was almost an hour before Julia heard Alec’s tread on the steps. That steady, deliberate walk could only mean he had imbibed far too much.
“I should have made that a condition of the will, too,” she muttered. “Next time I make a bargain to marry, I’ll add no arguing or drinking.”
His steps neared. She could picture him, his cravat slightly mussed, a lock of midnight hair across his brow as he fumbled for the doorknob. But his door never opened. Instead, a heavy silence fell in the hall.
Julia tossed back the counterpane and tiptoed to the door. She leaned her ear against it, straining to hear something…anything. But other than the sound of her own breathing, she couldn’t make out a thing. Seconds stretched into minutes and finally Alec gave a mumbled curse, his voice so close to the other side of the panel that Julia stepped back, her heart pounding. She heard two hasty steps and then the vigorous slam of his door.
Julia sagged against the wooden panel, relief changing rapidly into disappointment, then annoyance. “How rude! Slamming a door in the middle of the night. Rude and insufferable.” She returned to her bed, plopped onto the edge, and crossed her arms. “He acts just like a child. Spoiled, is what he is. No wonder. An only child, raised by a grandfather, doted on by a house full of servants. Then he grows up to look like a prince, with those eyes and that hair and those—” She squenched her eyes closed and took a deep breath.
It wasn’t fair. Here she was, wide awake and filled with turbulent emotions, while he enjoyed a deep, restful sleep. Well, she was her father’s daughter. No one kept her awake when she didn’t want him to. Julia stomped to the door, yanked it open, and marched across the hall.
Just as she lifted her hand to deliver a spirited knock, Alec’s door opened.
He looked down at her with an inscrutable expression. His broad shoulders filled the opening, his lean, muscular frame encased by a ruby red robe, loosely belted about his narrow waist. She tried to ignore the fact that his bare chest was just at eye level, covered with sensual dark curls.
She tried, but failed miserably.
His gaze traveled from her face to her braid and then lower, halting at the sight of her upraised hand.
Julia realized her fist was still suspended in knocking position. She hurriedly tucked it behind her and lifted her chin a notch. “I just came to tell you it was rude to slam the door.”
He leaned against the jamb and crossed his arms, his face now in the shadows. “Did I wake you?”
Insolent cur. “You would have, if I’d been asleep.”
His arrogant gaze brushed across her like the touch of a feather, leaving a tingling trail of awareness in its wake. “And so you came to protest, wearing nothing but your nightrail.”
Julia looked down. The lace nightgown covered remarkably little, hinting at every curve, allowing the pink of her nipples to peek thr
ough. “Oh. I should have stopped for my dressing gown, but I didn’t think of it.”
It suddenly dawned on her how this must look, banging on his door in the middle of the night wearing nothing but an indecently sheer strip of lace. He must think she was desperate for his company.
The idea fanned her temper more. Crossing her arms over her woefully covered chest, she scowled. “This is my house, too. I can wear whatever I wish. I just wanted you to know that I think you are rude and boorish and….” She trailed off as she noticed the muscles of his chest flex, and wondered what it would feel like to splay her hands across their hardness.
The truth was, he was handsome and desirable, and she wanted him so badly she could barely think. The vaguest hint of a sob closed her throat.
Before she made more of a fool of herself than she already had, she spun on her heel and marched across the passageway, her trembling self-control barely intact. Just as she reached her door, a firm hand closed around her elbow. Warmth settled in her breasts and lower.
“Julia.” His breath stirred the hair behind her ear.
“What?” she managed to say in a husky whisper.
His hand grazed her arm with the lightest of touches, his fingers skimming over her too-sensitive skin to her shoulder, where he pushed aside the gossamer lace. “I’m sorry for slamming the door.”
The words caressed her, pulsing across her like a hot wind. Julia shivered as sparks of heat spread through her. His hand came to rest on her neck, cupping her throat with a sensuous gesture that pulled her body against his.
For a moment, she leaned against him, his velvet robe pressed against her back. Rivulets of pleasure tingled up her arms, curling her hands into fists. Without another word, she turned into his embrace.
The scent of brandy and sandalwood engulfed her. She tightened her arms about his neck, and clung as if he were a rock in the middle of a storm-ridden sea. Please, please, just this once, let him want me, too.
After a long, silent moment, Alec let out his breath and gently pushed her away.
The damp chill of the night immediately made her shiver. What had she been thinking? Hopelessness slammed into her heart and settled in her chest with an aching sob. She had loved him for so long, desired him so much, that just this one second of separation caused an almost physical pain.
“Julia.”
The word was both caress and command. Drawing a swift breath, she lifted her gaze.
His eyes darkened. “This has to be your decision.” Naked desire reflected in his gaze. “I want you, Julia. All of you.” He lowered his mouth to hers, halting just a breath away, his lips hovering but not touching. “Say you want me, too.” His voice roughened to crushed velvet, his eyes black with desire. He pulled her close and gently brushed his hips against hers until she could feel the swell of his manhood.
She gasped at the sensations that flickered and sparked, her hands closing over the sinew of his arms. She wanted, needed, to get closer to him. Oblivious to everything but the feel of him against her, she pressed her body to his.
With a strangled curse, he dropped his forehead against hers, his breathing harsh in the silence of the hallway. “God, Julia,” he whispered hoarsely. “Tell me you desire this as much as I do.”
She clutched at his arms, his robe bunching beneath her insistent hands. “I want you, Alec.” When he didn’t respond, she closed her eyes, terrified at the urgency of her own desires. “Please, Alec. Please.”
Alec drank in the sound of her plea, more intoxicating than any brandy, sweeter than any cordial. He almost laughed to think he’d nearly convinced himself that she did not want him, that she desired someone else. Julia might think she was in love with a worthier man, but she desired him.
Tonight there were just the two of them, him and his Julia.
“Alec,” she whispered again, this time more urgently, her eyes wet. Her mouth trembled, the sensual line of her lips captivating him. “Please,” she whispered. A lone tear escaped from beneath her lashes and slipped over the pale satin of her cheek.
Alec bent to catch it, his mouth following the wet trail, the salty sweetness shredding his control. He cupped her cheek with his hand as he pressed his lips to the curve of her lashes, the straight line of her nose, the wide crest of her forehead.
Her lashes trembled as he gently placed his lips on hers. She stilled at his touch, her mouth moist and soft. He slid his mouth over her bottom lip, maintaining only the barest contact.
She shivered and he captured her mouth again, teasing her lips apart until his tongue grazed the smooth edge of her teeth. She moaned and opened to him, as unknowingly erotic as any woman he had ever known.
The kiss deepened, their tongues mingling. Julia’s hands moved frantically over him, tugging and pulling until she’d loosened his robe. Thinking only of getting nearer to the slim body encased in enticing lace, he helped her, pulling his arms from the sleeves and dropping the robe to the floor.
The waft of cool air across his naked back reminded him they were in the hallway. With a muttered oath, he caught her arms and stepped back, breathing hard. “Julia, love. We can’t stay out here.”
She opened dazed eyes, the green alight with flecks of gold. “What?”
He traced his thumb over her mouth, savoring the wetness. “Not here,” he whispered. “The servants.”
Julia looked around, her gaze halting when it encountered his nude form. A delightful blush rose from her shoulders to her neck and came to fruition on her cheeks. “I didn’t realize we were still in the hallway.”
“Come to my room.” He closed his arms around her and took a step backward, toward his open door, already thinking of the huge bed and how she would look lying naked on the softness of his counterpane.
“No.”
Alec’s heart pounded a furious rhythm. “Why not?” he asked harshly.
She flicked him a sultry glance. “My room is closer.”
Before he could do more than blink, she turned, opened her door, and disappeared, leaving only the enticing scent of cinnamon.
Alec stared. He, who had so much more experience and knowledge, should have been the one controlling this seduction. But as he was beginning to realize, there was no controlling Julia.
She peeked back around the door and crooked a finger. Her braid had loosened until long wisps of honey silk drifted about her shoulders, clinging to her slender frame and following the curve of her breast. Alec swallowed with a throat gone dry when he thought of those strands cleaving to his hands, his face, his chest. Like a puppet on a string, unable to resist doing as he was bidden, he followed her into her room.
Julia stood before her bed, her hands furiously working the fastenings on her gown. Alec closed the door and leaned against it and forced his breathing to slow. The lace nightrail had haunted him for more nights than he cared to remember and she appeared more wanton than even his dreams had envisioned. Her long legs were visible through the material, her creamy skin rivaled the delicate lace in whiteness, and her breasts, small and firm, were made just for his hands. Two steps brought him to her.
Her frantic fingers jerked at the row of buttons that held the delicate lace at the back of her neck. Alec placed his hands over hers. “Don’t tear it, love. I may want you to wear it again.”
Her hands fell to her sides and she tilted her head down, pulling her hair to one side and allowing him to unfasten the fascinating row of buttons, though her knuckles showed white and her eyes followed him hungrily. As he loosened each button, he placed a kiss on the skin bared before his eyes. From her neck, down her back, to the delicious curve of her bottom, he placed one lingering kiss after another. Her hands trembled, but she didn’t move away.
As he loosened the last button, the lace slithered to the floor, a luxurious drift of cobwebs. She turned and Alec caught her curves flush against him. He fought for control. Julia turned her face into his neck, her breath raking his throat, her hair spilling across his arm in a silken fall.
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br /> God, but he wanted her as he had wanted no other. He pulled back and stared at her face, at the slant of her mouth, the incredible lashes that framed her sparkling eyes, the firm chin that now trembled ever so slightly. The scent of her need mingled with the spice of the lemon and cinnamon innocence so inherent to her. Within her emerald gaze shone a yearning so clear he had to clench his teeth against the desire to throw her onto the floor and sink into her softness.
But this was no lightskirt, used to the ways of lovemaking. This was Julia, his wife, to protect and covet above all others.
He held her at arm’s length, struggling to think. “Julia, I don’t want you to be afraid. I cannot promise—”
She launched herself against him, sending him reeling back onto the bed. Her body covered his, her hands everywhere—on his arms, his chest, his hips. All thought fled before her passion. She moaned into his mouth as her breasts pressed against his chest, her nipples hardening with the contact.
He cupped her rounded hips in his hands, pulling her higher until her face was level with his, her body directly over his.
She writhed against him. “Closer,” she whispered, her eyes almost black with desire.
“Easy, love,” he murmured. “Slow down.”
Julia’s breath brushed his ear, hot and frantic. Alec closed his eyes, clenching his teeth. With tormenting thoroughness, her hands explored the width of his chest, lingered on his shoulders, and traveled down his arms. He grabbed a fistful of sheet in each hand, willing his unruly body not to bury itself into her.
She placed a kiss wherever her hands strayed, her feather-soft touches fraying his control. Her explorations continued as she trailed her fingers across his stomach. There, she halted. He opened his eyes. She gazed at his manhood.
For an instant he feared he’d frightened her, but she turned to him, her gaze burning.
The Abduction of Julia Page 24
