Without a word, Alec leaned up and pulled her back across him, the fall of her hair enclosing them in a world of sensuous satin. Her hands slipped down his sides, grazing the sensitive skin until he ground his teeth in delicious agony. When her fingers slipped between his legs, he flipped her over to her back and pinned her arms over her head.
“For God’s sake, don’t do that,” he said through clenched teeth. “Not yet.”
Moaning, she pressed herself against him, one leg lifting to twine about his. Any chivalrous thoughts fled before his searing passion. Alec positioned himself between her thighs and thrust home.
She surged against him, a cry torn from her lips as her tight wetness closed around him. He caught her gasp of pain in his mouth, urging her past it and on to the pleasure that awaited her. Quickening his pace, he pulled her with him in a tide of passion that built with each stroke.
She wrapped her legs about his hips, matching his fervor with her own. Alec savored the honesty of her reactions, the sweetness of her as she gave herself over to him completely. She held nothing back, committing herself to the act of passion completely.
Just when he thought it impossible to maintain his control, she cried out, gripping his shoulders and arching against him. Shock waves of pleasure pushed him over the edge, into a sea of bliss.
When he could breathe once more, Alec rolled to one side and pulled her against him. She curled up, limp and replete, in his arms. As passionate with her body as she was with her soul, Julia had taken him farther than his wandering lust had ever gone.
He waited for his heart to resume its normal pace. When he finally opened his eyes, she was raised on one elbow, looking at him as if memorizing every feature.
Alec smiled, the daze of fulfillment settling about them like a warm cocoon. In this instant, he felt as if he could accomplish anything. He traced a finger over the elegant line of her collarbone to the hollow of her throat. Her pulse beat a rapid rhythm against his fingertips. “You are a vixen, my love. I think you bit me.”
Her gaze flew to his neck and a blush, hot and furious, lifted across the creamy expanse of her breasts to her neck and face. “Sorry.”
He chuckled, catching her to him and rolling on his back until she lay on top of him, her head tucked beneath his chin. “Don’t look so chagrined. I was only teasing.”
She buried her face in the column of his throat and said nothing. After a long silence, she said, “Alec, was that correct?”
Alec tilted her face back until he could see her clearly. “It was perfect.”
Julia placed her hands on his chest and regarded him with a frown. “I hoped I’d done it right, but I wasn’t sure.”
He grinned, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Oh, yes.” He caught a flicker of something in her eyes and frowned. “Julia, did I hurt you?”
New color burnt her cheeks. “Oh, no. It was uncomfortable, but just for a minute.” She tilted her head to one side. “Does it always feel like that?”
Alec shook his head. He’d made love with more women than he could remember. Each time he had taken and given pleasure, but never had he experienced the shattering release he’d had with Julia. But it was more than physical pleasure. Julia’s response satisfied him on another level, in a way he was unwilling to examine too closely. He kissed her chin. “It is different every time.”
Her eyes widened. “Every time?”
He grinned and nodded. “And it will only get better.”
Julia’s gaze darkened as she placed her hand on his stubble-roughened cheek. For a long instant she gazed at him. “Alec, I don’t want to fight anymore.”
For an instant, he couldn’t believe she had capitulated so completely. But there was no predicting Julia. Catching her against him, he chuckled. “Then we won’t.”
The moment sweetened. In the morning, she’d resign from the Society and they would begin their lives anew. Alec smiled in contentment and kissed her forehead. With a pleased smile, she curled against him.
For a long, peaceful moment, he held her. A strand of her hair tickled his nose and he brushed it aside. As he listened to the steady pace of her heart, he remembered how she’d told him she knew love and had known it for years. He tried to imagine the paragon who deserved such unwavering adoration, but could think of no one.
Alec scowled. He’d be damned if he would stand by and watch his wife yearn for another man. As if she could sense the change in him, Julia shivered.
He pulled the counterpane over her shoulders, tucking it under her chin. Like a child, she snuggled deeper. He smiled bitterly, appreciating the irony. Over the years he’d dallied with countless wives, never once wondering about their husbands. Now, lying in bed with his own wife, he begrudged her the one passion she’d ever had.
Julia sighed in her sleep, turning toward him. The cover slipped and the pale crest of her breast appeared. The chill of the room puckered the nipple and his mouth watered, a stab of lust instantly stiffening him to readiness. The desire to make love to her until she thought of no one but him fixed in his mind, and he rolled onto his elbow to look down at her sleeping face. But the sight of the faint shadows under her eyes halted his burgeoning desire.
With a regretful sigh, he pulled the blanket around them both. There would be time enough tomorrow to discover the depth of their passion. Closing his eyes, Alec drifted off to sleep, content in the knowledge that after tomorrow, Julia would at least be spared the tiring labor of her work with the Society.
Chapter 23
Alec woke to the sounds of the street. Carriages rattled by, vendors hocked their wares, voices called in greeting. He frowned. His room didn’t open onto the street…of course. He wasn’t in his room, but Julia’s. Smiling drowsily, Alec reached out an arm to pull her to him.
His hand fell onto tangled sheets and a pillow. He stretched further, all the way to the edge of the bed, but no warm body rested beside his. Instantly awake, he raised himself on an elbow and looked about the room.
Julia’s gown still lay on the floor, a forlorn puddle of lace, and her robe was tossed across a chair. Other than the tangle of bedclothing, everything was perfectly neat and strangely empty. Perhaps she’d gone to request breakfast. The idea of his not-so-prim wife serving him breakfast in bed seemed entirely appropriate.
He turned onto his back and placed his hands beneath his head, the cool air brushing against his bared skin. Despite the late night and the amount of brandy he had consumed, he was as refreshed and rested as if he’d slept a week. Perhaps there were benefits to having a woman like Julia for a wife—one who had a compulsion to take care of everything and everybody. Lately, he had thought that she had exempted him from her list of cares. It was satisfying to see she was capable of expending at least some of her boundless attention on him.
The edge of a pillow tickled his ear. He lifted a hand to push it away and caught the lingering scent of their passion. An instant impression of Julia’s long legs and her heated response flashed through his mind.
Restless, he piled the pillows behind him and pulled the thin sheet over his lap. When she returned, he would take great delight in showing her how much he loved the morning, when the air held a tang of freshness and the early light dispelled all shadows. A good morning tumble set the mood for the entire day. The memory of her wildness the night before made him count the minutes with growing impatience.
Another quarter of an hour passed, and still no Julia. Where in the hell was she?
Chastising himself for a fool for lying in bed and waiting, he looked about for something to cover his nakedness. The sheets or blanket would wrap around him three times and still drag behind him like a serpent’s tail. Alec picked up the lace nightrail and wrapped it experimentally about his hips, but the thin cloth showed more than it hid.
He dropped it to the floor and grabbed the frilled robe from the chair and fastened it about his waist. Layers of ruffles fluffed from his hips to well above his knees, but it would have to do.
/>
Muttering to himself about the inconvenience of being married to an independent woman, Alec opened the door and peered into the hall, hoping against hope that none of his meddling servants were about.
The hall was blessedly empty; nothing but the faint sound of Mrs. Winston’s voice floating up the stairs disturbed the early morning peace. Relieved, he opened the door wider and leaned out, scanning the floor for his robe.
“Good morning, my lord.” Burroughs stood in the doorway of Alec’s room, the butler’s gaze politely directed over his right shoulder. “Chilton found your robe this morning when he brought your wash water. I believe he blamed the incident on her ladyship’s page.”
Alec’s face heated, but he refused to retreat. Tightening his grip on the bunched material at his hip, he nodded. “I’ll be sure he knows I left it there.”
“Of course, my lord. If you’re finished lurking about the hallway, perhaps you would care for some breakfast?”
“I am not lurking.”
The butler’s gaze drifted to Alec’s makeshift covering. “As you wish, my lord.”
Ignoring the urge to bolt into his room and slam the door behind him, Alec tightened the robe about his hips. “Have you seen Lady Hunterston?”
“Yes, sir. She left early this morning.”
“Did she say where she was going?”
“Johnston complained about having to visit Whitechapel, my lord. I would venture to guess she went to one of her meetings.” The butler paused, then added in a deferential tone, “Her ladyship appeared somewhat distracted.”
So that was where she had gone. Alec had no doubt this morning’s journey would be difficult for Julia. As committed as she was to the Society, it would be hard to simply walk away. He frowned. She should have waited for him to accompany her.
From the stairs came Chilton’s unmistakable mincing tread.
“Oh, God,” Alec muttered. Straightening his shoulders, he marched past Burroughs and into his room, stopping long enough to glare. “Not a word of this to the others.”
“I wouldn’t think of it, my lord.” The faintest hint of amusement lingered in the dry tone.
His good mood long gone, Alec slammed the door. Despite the fact that Julia had gone to do as he had bidden, it irked him that she could apparently hop out of bed and go traipsing about town as if last night were less than nothing. Hell, he was a little shaky this morning. She should be equally affected.
He scowled and threw open the wardrobe, pulled out a shirt, and tossed it onto the bed. How could she just rise and leave without a word? It was the most heartless action he had ever witnessed from his giving and gracious wife. The fact that she’d done it to him only made it worse. Especially since he’d wakened ready to entice her with new pleasures.
Alec poured water into a basin and splashed his face, the warm liquid running down his unshaven jaw. He reached for a towel and caught sight of his reflection. For the first time in weeks, no fatigue shadowed his eyes. He rubbed the roughness of his chin and immediately thought of Julia’s mouth against his, her pale arms twined about his neck, her long legs wrapped around his hips.
Naked, she had the body of a sprite: slender and small breasted, as delicate as a wraith. She was a siren, dressed by day in the clothing of the righteous, protected by staid spectacles and a prim manner. But by night, she transformed into a passionate vixen, playful and seductive, but more beautiful and more vibrant than any woman he had ever known. His manhood twitched and rose and Alec cursed Julia’s blithe absence yet again.
Mrs. Winston’s voice came through the closed door. “Goodness! Someone has gone and mussed the mistress’s room. The bedsheets have been torn off the bed.”
“His lordship did not sleep in his bed last night,” said Chilton, a superior edge to his tone.
“Well, it’s about time.” Mrs. Winston’s giggle raked across Alec’s raw nerves. “I vow, I was beginning to think that you were going to have to have a talk with him about his conjugal duties.”
If the housekeeper’s giggle had raked Alec’s nerves, his valet’s high-pitched titter sliced them in two. He would not be made sport of in his own house.
He stomped to the door and flung it open. “If you are through gossiping, perhaps one of you would be good enough to see to my breakfast.”
Two pairs of astonished eyes fixed on him, but not on his stern face. Instead they locked on his hips, where Julia’s robe still hung in many-ruffled splendor. Heat flooded his neck and face.
“My lord,” said Chilton, stepping forward, his nose flared in alarm. “I will come immediately and see to your clothing.”
“No,” Alec said abruptly. The last thing he wanted was a chattering valet to keep him company.
“But, sir, I—”
“I don’t need any help dressing.”
Mrs. Winston looked pointedly at Alec’s ruffled attire, her mouth twitched into a grin. “Maybe not, my lord, but Chilton could at least iron some of the wrinkles out of that.”
For an instant even Chilton looked as if he might burst in a spate of wild giggles. It was more than Alec could endure. Red-faced, he retreated into his room and slammed the door. No man should be faced with a horde of merry, impertinent servants at this time of the morning.
He loosened the robe from his hips and tossed it to the floor, kicking it under the bed for good measure. Good God, what was wrong with him? He’d lost his ability to think. Irritation seethed in his stomach, and he knew he’d eat no breakfast this morning. Turning to his wardrobe, he yanked out a pair of breeches and jerked them on.
As he thrust his arm into his shirt, a sudden thought trickled through his annoyance. What if Julia had decided not to give up the Society, after all? God only knew what unpredictable thoughts might have settled in her brain while he lay blissfully asleep at her side. It didn’t bear thinking of.
Alec tried to recall her exact words regarding the Society, but couldn’t. His memories of the night before had less to do with words and more to do with silken hair, the touch of her skin against his, her seductive scent.
He tugged the shirt into place and buttoned it, hastily tying his cravat. Just to be sure Julia understood her responsibilities, he would go to the Society himself. And if she did not—Alec scowled. He would deal with that when the time came.
Hurrying in earnest, he shoved his feet into his boots and pulled on his coat. Then he ran down the stairs, calling for his carriage.
Julia had worked in the squalid alleyways and filthy streets of Whitechapel too long to consider herself an innocent. Indeed, she had seen far more than any maid should. But nothing had prepared her for the searing passion she had felt with Alec.
She had slept deeply, dreamlessly, only to awaken to find him wrapped about her, his legs entwined with hers, his warm breath against her neck. She had lain there, eyes closed, and savored the moment. Never had she felt more loved or in love. Perhaps one day he would learn to love her in return. Julia had smiled at the thought and snuggled closer, resting her check against his broad chest.
For now, she would be content with what he’d given her—a night of pure, delicious, satiating passion. Tears had gathered in her eyes and clogged her throat. It was all so new, so wonderful.
Of course, Alec would not think of their night of passion with any emotion at all. Like all rakes, he would think of it as nothing more than a pleasurable moment, one to be enjoyed and then dismissed.
The thought had made her stir within his comforting hold. Is that what he would do? Awaken and roll away, acting as if nothing had occurred? Would he expect her to act the same—casual and accepting, as if their relationship had not changed? As if she weren’t now even more committed to him, even more in love with him?
Julia had pulled away from the warm arms that held her and slipped from the bed. Frowning in his sleep, Alec gathered her pillow close, but did not awaken. As quietly as possible, she dressed, pulling on clothes and shoes at random. She couldn’t face him now, not when her love r
an so near the surface that with one look at her face, he would know the truth. She needed time to collect her thoughts and arm herself against her own feelings.
One day, he would come to love her. But it would be fatal to rush him. She would woo him gently, teach him the value of true love, the pleasure of caring for others. Perhaps that was the way to reform him, after all.
For now, she needed to calm her tangled feelings. Fortunately, the Society was to meet this morning. Julia had pinned her hair in the predawn darkness and then stopped by the bed to watch Alec sleep. He looked mussed and boyish, his hair falling across his forehead. She reached out and almost touched him, but stopped. Sighing deeply, Julia had slipped silently from the room.
She arrived at Whitechapel just as Lord Burton stepped from his carriage. Full of jovial witticisms, he escorted her into the vicar’s office where the rest of the board had collected. The meeting passed in a blur.
Julia tried to keep her mind on the work at hand, but thoughts of the previous night kept flashing before her eyes, interrupting her ability to speak. Twice, she forgot what she was saying in mid-sentence. Flustered, she left as soon as was acceptable, saying a hurried good-bye and whisking out the door.
Halfway down the front steps, she halted, her heart thrumming a painful tattoo. “Alec.”
He leaned against the bottom railing, hands stuffed into his pockets. The brim of his hat shadowed his eyes. “I came to take you home.”
Julia cast a wary glance over her shoulder, relieved to see that no one had followed her out. “You shouldn’t be here.”
His jaw clenched. “Perhaps it’s time the members of the Society knew you have a husband.”
“It is a bit late to decide that.” She brushed past him and peered around his phaeton to where Johnston should have been waiting with the coach.
“I told him to leave.” Alec’s voice sounded at her ear. “Get in, Julia.”
“But I wasn’t going home. In fact, I won’t be home until late. I have errands to run, and a book to return to the lending library, and Lady Birlington specifically requested that I attend her for tea.” That should show him she was completely unaffected by last night.
The Abduction of Julia Page 25
