She heard and read about women needing long foreplays to get them excited. Not her. All it took was Tristan's mouth on her breasts and clit to explode. Gosh, he didn't even penetrate her with his fingers. Tristan simply used his mouth and tongue.
Was she oversexed? Or was her body's reaction the result of a long period of procrastination, of keeping herself pure, of denying herself with a man's touch, for staying a virgin? She stopped in front of the full-length mirror and dropped her towel on the floor. Julie bit her lip. Her body still held the rosy tint of spent passion. “My God, just one touch and I turn into a slut. Julie, Julie,” she said to her own reflection. “Shame on you.”
It was Kirsten's fault. If she wanted to help, she should have sent one of her other three brothers. Not Tristan. He was the brother who considered marriage a bitter pill. Hard to swallow. Ugh! If she put what was happening right now in writing and someone read the story, that person would have a serious migraine.
Julie rubbed her temples. She loved Tristan. Marrying him would not only set her free, but she'd be the wife of the handsome Knight. At least for a month. After that, she'd free of him, to do whatever she wished.
Unless Marla got a whiff of him staying here. Then she'd be in trouble. Marla had eyes everywhere and would soon find out a man was staying in her house. She couldn't let that happen. She must convince Tristan to leave. Soon.
Julie opened her drawers to grab a pair of underwear. She sincerely hoped it wasn't Marla at the door. Oh dear
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* * *
Chapter Seven
* * * *
Tristan paced the floor while he waited for the woman responsible for losing his sixth potential good date to come downstairs. Shit! His dick swelled just thinking about her. What had she done to him?
He never should have let his dick rule his mind and touch Julie the way he had dreamed of touching her. Last night, taking her virginity was bad enough. To follow it through with sucking her pussy until she came only put him in the position of wanting her again. Fuck, right now, he wanted her so bad he nearly ejaculated in his pants. She responded to his touch like a lit match to a wick—fast. She may not be a virgin anymore, but she was still an innocent in many ways. He liked that.
The sound of bare feet pattering on the hardwood stairs took his mind off his hardening dick. Well, not really, since seeing Julie in her tank top and jeans, showcasing her curves, only made his cock become painfully thicker.
Julie ambled her way downstairs.
Damn. I forgot about her ankle. Without waiting for Julie to reach the bottom steps, he quickly went up to meet her. “Stop.” He hooked an arm behind her knees and lifted her. With his other hand supporting her back, he carried her down.
“What are you doing? Put me down.”
“I am sorry, love. I forgot about your foot.” You make me forget everything.
“If we tumble down these steps, I would break more than my foot. Just put me down. You're not Tarzan, you know.”
“I know. I would hate to be him. Pounding my chest, covered with Vicks, screaming in the jungle.”
Julie snorted and buried her face in the crook of his neck. “Thanks, but I am fine. No need to fuss over me. I am capable of taking care of myself.”
Tristan kissed her forehead on impulse. Why? Well, it was what he wanted to do after she convulsed in his arms while laying on the dining table. But Armand, not the stupid UPS man, rang the doorbell. He supposed he should thank Julie's besotted beau, because he was a heartbeat away from making love with her—again. Damn, being married to her for a month without touching her would be as impossible as flying to the moon. He would be in the toughest time of his life.
“You may be a grown woman, but you still need help.”
“Right. And the best help you can give me is to leave me alone. This is not a game, Tristan. I want you out of the house until the wedding,” she said softly.
Tristan could feel her warm breath. He knew instantly that it was a mistake holding her again.
One step at time, he took the steps with a speed of a turtle. She was so soft and smelled like a woman, and he wanted to savor the moment. He knew Julie was staring at him, but he forced himself not to turn his head, otherwise, he would end up kissing her. And he was old enough to know where kisses could lead to.
“Who rang the bell?”
“It was Armand.”
Julie craned her neck to see the living room. “He left? Didn't he want to talk to me?”
“Yes.”
“But he left?”
“Yeah. I told him you weren't available.”
“You should have told him to wait. I texted him to ask him to come over.”
“Uh-huh, you mentioned that. But you don't need him anymore.”
“Right. Because my knight in shining armor came to rescue me.”
“Do you love him?” Tristan asked.
Julie's reply was to rub her forehead in the crook of his neck.
“If you do, what's the holdup? Marry the guy and end your freaking misery.”
“Hey!” Julie bit his neck. “Don't snap at me.” She pulled the hair on his nape.
“Stop being violent. I might drop you here. God, going up and down these steps is as good as running downtown. No wonder you have a nice shape.”
“Really, I hadn't realized,” Julie said dryly, then flicked his ear.
“Brat.”
Julie sneezed. “Excuse me. I think I'm allergic to you.”
“Ha. Ha. Are you allergic to flowers?”
“Yeah, but I don't have flowers in the house.”
“You do. Armand brought them.”
“Achoo! He did? Sheez, it will be Christmas time before you make it downstairs.” Julie finally rested her head against his shoulder, bringing an instant feeling of possessiveness all over him.
“I just want to make sure I don't miss a step.”
“Tristan, please understand. You really have to leave now.”
“I understand, love.”
“Then put me down and leave.”
“Can't. I promised Kirsten that I would make sure before the week is over that you will be free from Marla's claws.”
“I know. You've already said that, many times, but you don't have to stay to keep your promise. We'll talk on the phone.”
Julie's soft sighs tickled his neck, resulting in his dick pulsing. Damn. He was in for a long week of punishment. For sure, he'd be walking around with a huge erection twenty-four seven. Maybe he should heed her request and just get a room at the Harbor Square Lodge. Kirsten though, mentioned that Marla always arrived unannounced, with Sebastian at her feet, armed with a digital camera—to surprise Julie. To catch her doing something bad when she least expected it.
When Marla arrived, he wanted to be here. An overwhelming desire to kiss Julie senseless, to tell her everything would be okay, was so strong and powerful he had to stop his descent to kiss her forehead again.
Of all people, he should be the one protecting this woman, even if it would cost him his hands and legs. He and his family owed her that much. Tristan thought about Armand. The guy was nearly his height and with a face that could be on magazine covers. When he answered the door, he recognized Armand from the picture that Kirsten showed him. If Armand was photogenic, he looked even fucking better in person. Armand had that sly smile on his face, too, and he wanted to slam the door on that face. But he was neither Bors nor Gawain. He was a pediatrician sworn to help those who in need and not jump someone because... Because what?
Tristan scowled. Why was it that whenever Julie was around, uncertainty often clouded his brain?
“Am I that heavy?”
“What? No, you're not heavy. Why?” You're freaking gorgeous and I could hold you like this forever. You won't hear me complain.
“You're mumbling and scowling, and grunting.”
“Was I? I didn't realize it.”
The leather couch groaned when he lowered Jul
ie down. Tristan kneeled in front of her then lifted her sore foot. A bit of redness around her ankle told him it was bruised, but not broken. “Well, looks like I won't have to amputate your foot.”
“Whoop-dee-doo.” Julie covered her nose with her arm, then sneezed.
Tristan stood up. “Damn flowers. Stay put. Be right back.” He strode toward the kitchen. The bouquet consisting of orchids and white roses sat in the sink half-filled with water. After unplugging the sink, he used the plastic bag he brought from the store and stuffed the bouquet in it. He chucked the bag in the garbage can with satisfaction. “There. Gone.” He smiled without feeling the humor.
He looked back at the long and wide hallway where he could see Julie sitting on the couch rubbing her ankle. Without second thought, he dug in his duffel bag to grab his Hanes cotton shirt, then searched the freezer. He was glad to find a blue ice pack jammed at the back of the freezer, buried among the frozen TV dinners.
Julie's sneeze echoed in the Tudor ceiling.
“Apparently, your Armand didn't know you're allergic to flowers.” He kneeled in front of Julie and started wrapping her ankle.
“That was so sweet of him to bring me flowers.”
“Stupid if you ask me.”
“He is a nice man, Tristan. And I like him. We've been friends for a long time.”
For some reason, that simple fact served as a punch in his gut. He didn't like the idea that Julie liked another man. What the fuck! Checking the colors of her toenails, he made sure they were still pink, which was a good sign the wrap wasn't too tight. Satisfied with his work, he pushed himself up. “Hungry?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Good. Let's eat and then we'll talk about your situation. Hang onto me. Don't use your sore foot.”
“It's not that bad. I've had worse.”
“Do you get hurt a lot?”
Julie gave him a smile that made Tristan's waning erection grow harder again. “Always a doctor, eh. To answer your question, yes. I do get hurt a lot. Mostly from tripping all over the place. I think it's because of my big feet and long legs. They don't go together. I don't know how to use them properly.”
Oh, girl, yes you do. “Could be you just don't pay attention to where you are going, or you have a habit of walking with your eyes closed.”
“Ha! I did that only one time, when we were going to the woods.” She scowled and threw him his balled napkin, which landed two inches short, in front of his feet.
“He-heh.”
“You're mean.”
Tristan took her hands and pulled her up. He anchored his arm around her waist. “Let's go, gimp.”
“Oh, my God! You are a bad doctor.”
“Only with you. Hang onto me.”
“I'm not an invalid, Tristan. Maybe a klutz. Got a silly sprained ankle, that's all.” She wrapped around her arms around his neck, sighing. “Although, it's kind of nice to be doted upon.”
“And I don't mind doting on you. I kind of like touching you.”
“Pervert,” she whispered.
“Minx.”
Tristan helped Julie get settled in her chair. “Breakfast or lunch? You choose.”
Julie frowned and continued to nibble on her lower lip. “Well...”
Watching Julie lick her lips, he could tell she was hungry, but she didn't make a move. “Well, what? Don't like Broccoli Beef, Fried Rice and Chow Mein anymore? I've seen you eat like a hungry peon before so don't be shy now.”
“I'm not shy. It's just...”
“Didn't like these? I could call Chopsticks to have them deliver—”
“No, I love Chinese. It's the tab...le.”
Fuck. The dratted dining table must have looked different to Julie now. Why wouldn't it? Only moments ago, she was on top, legs spread apart, and screaming her release. For the love of humanity, she had an orgasm while on top of it. How could he be so insensitive? Tristan leaned forward to level his eyes on Julie, lifted her chin, and kissed her nose.
“Look at me. Would you like to eat somewhere else in this humongous house so you don't have to look at this table?” He touched her pinkish cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. “Love?”
“I'm fine.”
Tristan smiled. His eyes focused on her lips, hypnotized. His head dipped a little. One more kiss and he'd keep his distance. It wouldn't be fair for the both of them if they continued this affair, or whatever it was called. As it happened, he was already having a hard time staying away from her. He wondered if they would remain friends after their bogus marriage. He hoped so. He angled his head for a kiss, but Julie's fingers covered his mouth.
“Tristan, our marriage is going to be temporary. Do you think it's wise to have this, this kind of relationship? I mean, we're going to be divorced after a month. Your sister, your family, you—are important in my life. And if we continue with this, staying in your house would be awkward knowing that we've been intimate. What if someday you married someone and I visit your family, and you happen to be there, imagine how ill at ease we'd be.”
“Or how uncomfortable it would be for you if you see me while strolling with your husband and you're pregnant with a baby,” he replied sharply. An oddly primitive feeling akin to jealousy at the thought of Julie pregnant, married to someone else, poked at his heart.
“Yes.”
“Fine. No more kisses and touching. I'm sorry.” He held out his hand, offering an apology. “It's just you're so damn beautiful. Even a saint would be tempted to touch you.” He served her food on a plate. “Eat.”
“You don't have to live with me, or me with you. I won't stop you from dating also. If you tell Pamela the gonorrhea bit was a joke, she might take you back. Or I can tell her, as my way of saying thank you for helping me.”
“You won't care if I see someone while married to you?”
“No, of course not. Our marriage will be on paper only. You can do whatever you want and I won't say anything.”
“And as soon as our month is up, based on your condition, we'll file for a divorce.”
* * * *
Julie heard annoyance in his voice. Suddenly she felt like a burden that was dumped on his lap. She'd kill Kirsten for this. “If after an hour you decide you don't want to go through with this, I'm okay with—”
“Because you could always ask Armand?”
“Yes.”
“Let's say you two married. What if Armand decided he didn't want to end the marriage because he loves you? You'll find yourself facing another problem. Loveless marriage is not the answer to your problem.” Tristan stood up and started gathering the dirty dishes. “I've seen enough couples try to bite each other's head off because they thought marriage was a solution to their problem. And most of the time, when they realize their mistake, babies are already in the picture.”
“Well, my babies would be made out of love, not lust. Someday, I will have kids—with the man I love. You love babies, don't you? That's why you became a Pediatrician?”
“Yeah. I love babies and will someday have my own, but it wasn't the main reason why I became one.” He put the plates in the sink then ran the hot water. “It was the time when I went with my sister and mom to India. The children's gaunt faces, sad eyes, and poor health haunted me. I couldn't do anything to help them. So I took this profession and I loved it since then.”
“Tristan, a knight in his shining white doctor's robe. Rescuer of little babies and damsels in distress like me.”
“I'm not a knight. Just doing the right thing.”
Just doing the right thing
“And you think marrying me would be the right thing?”
“Yes. Like I said, I promised Kirsten. I will abide whatever conditions you throw at me.”
“Do you think this marriage idea will work? Marla had me followed before, that's how she learned I've been to a gay bar.”
“You've been to a gay bar?”
“Kirsten and I went one time. I just needed to know what it was like to be inside, know the
smell, what kinds of noises there were. The kinds of conversations people normally had.”
“Because you needed an idea for your book?”
She stared at him, unsurprised. Kirsten told him about the will, why not about her books? “Yes. So if Marla's eyes are pointing here right now, she'll know you are here. And we are not married yet. She could tell her lawyer that I am cohabitating.”
“We'll apply for the license today. That way we can have proof that we are planning on getting married. Dad will perform the marriage ceremony.”
“Your dad would be great.” Like any woman, she dreamed of a grand wedding, of walking down the aisle wearing a gown designed by Kirsten, and the pearl crown her mother gave her. Oh well, not all dreams were made to happen.
“Unless you want a priest or a minister to wed us.”
“I said your dad can marry us.”
“Why the long face then?”
“Nothing. You won't understand. It's a woman thing.”
“Ah, you want the whole shebang. Gown, flowers, bridesmaids, cake. Etcetera.”
And a proper proposal, and a groom who actually loves me. “If you apply for the license today, when can we get it?”
“Eager to marry me, huh?” Tristan flashed a smile that made him look ten years younger. “There is a three-day wait period before we can get the license, which is good. It would give my brothers time to square their schedules.”
“They'll be in the wedding?”
“We operate as one, love. They'll kick my ass if I marry you without them present.”
Julie watched Tristan dry the dishes. He had long fingers. She remembered how those hands felt against her skin, how they made her feel so alive. She wanted to ask if Judge Knight could pull some strings and get the license for them now, but she wouldn't dare put a blemish on Arthur's name. He'd been known to be just, fair, not a crook, and she wouldn't ask him to use his power to fix her problem.
“Okay. We'll get married, but I don't see why you have to stay?”
“I'll stay for a while, until we get to know each other, learn each other's habits, likes, and dislikes. If put to the test, then we'll know what to say. How we met is easily answered—through Kirsten. We could also tell them it was love at first sight for both of us. We'll make it believable. Besides, I want to know my wife-to-be. Don't worry, I won't be in your way. You do have a spare room in this humongous house, don't you?”
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