He pulled his mouth away from hers and his breathing was harsh, ragged. He pressed his forehead against hers, and Cass fought against the urge to cry out. His hands were cradling her hips, making her crazy. She closed her eyes and pressed her forehead to his.
His mouth moved to trace her cheekbone, her temple, her ear. “Damn it, Cassie. I knew you were pretty but I never expected you to be this damn beautiful when you grew up.”
Cass couldn’t help the smile that came to her lips. “You think I’m pretty?”
“I think you’re breathtaking.” His mouth was back on hers. She pulled him even closer this time, her hand moving down of its own accord to trace the hard hot outline of him beneath his breeches.
He groaned and pressed himself into her hand. She rubbed him up and down. Another groan.
His mouth was on her throat, licking, kissing, sucking. She threw back her head and closed her eyes. Nothing mattered, nothing other than the feel of his hot mouth on her flesh. She wanted to feel him, touch him, taste him. He slowly moved his hand between her legs to the scorching wet flesh. Cass moaned. “Julian.”
His mouth returned to her as if to silence her. He kissed her again and again, long, hard, deep. Then he sank his finger into her wet heat, and she forgot to breathe.
Julian’s hot, hard finger moved inside her, and Cass wrapped her arms even more tightly around his neck. “Oh, Julian,” she breathed against his mouth.
He slowly dragged his finger back and forth, back and forth inside of her while she experienced a myriad of emotions and feelings she’d never felt before. She pressed her mouth against his hand. “I can’t—”
“Yes,” he whispered against her lips. “You can. Just let me touch you, Cassie. I’ve wanted to for so long.”
She didn’t allow her brain to register the enormity of those words. She was all feelings now, floating on a sea of emotions and nerves and the most powerful lust she’d ever experienced. He withdrew his finger and she cried out. “Shh,” he whispered against her lips.
His thumb found her then, the most delicate spot on her body, the center of her thighs. He circled her in tiny little movements that made her head toss fitfully against the cushions of the sofa.
“Julian.” The pressure between her legs was building, a feeling unlike any she’d known before. His mouth continued to possess hers and his thumb kept up its gentle rhythm on her most private spot, nudging again and again in the most perfect location. She clenched her teeth. Her brow furrowed. She tugged on his neck, kissing him ferociously. “Julian!” she cried as a wave of delicious shudders racked her body.
Cass floated slowly back to reality. Julian pulled himself sharply away from her and cursed under his breath. Having the warmth and heat of his body gone left her bereft. He sat up on the sofa next to her while she scrambled to right her skirts and clothing.
Cass sat up next to him, and touched her swollen mouth with her fingers. Then her hand moved up to her coiffure. Her hair was in total disarray; so were her thoughts. She would have let him make love to her right here in the middle of the drawing room if he’d wanted to. She would have. She had no doubts. Even now she was a bit disappointed that he hadn’t—
“Go. Now,” he ground out between clenched teeth.
She reached for him, longing to run her fingers through his burnished hair. “Julian, I—”
He blocked her hand with his arm. “Go. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking.”
Cass took a shaky breath. She stood on wobbly legs and smoothed her hands over her skirts.
“Go!” he demanded one last time.
She turned and fled from the room.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Bloody hell. Upton was here. Julian strode through the main room of the club doing his best to ignore the future earl. Right. Upton was a member of Brooks’s. How could Julian forget?
The club was just as Julian remembered it. Stuffy. Smoky. Full of a lot of overfed gentlemen with too much money and too much time on their hands talking about subjects they knew little about. War, for instance.
Since the moment Julian had walked through the door an hour ago, he’d been waylaid by one chap after another, all wanting to know about his battle experiences. Every one of them had got a gleam in his eye when Julian spoke of his injuries. The vultures. All they were truly interested in was what it felt like to nearly die. He’d tell them … It was exactly like something you didn’t want to discuss ad nauseam or, perhaps, ever!
Julian took a seat at a card table in the center of the next room and began a game with a few gentlemen. He didn’t have long to wait before Upton came wandering over. The future earl made his way to Julian’s table and stood next to him.
“What do you want, Upton?” Julian ground out, looking up at him through narrowed eyes.
Upton sat next to Julian and took his time lighting a cheroot. “Didn’t think you saw me when you walked by in the other room, Swift. I tried to say something to you.”
“Forgive me. I’m not in the mood for your company at present.” Julian’s smile was tight.
Upton arched a brow at him. “So you did see me?”
“Do you have a point, Upton?” Julian tugged at his cuff. The last thing he bloody well wanted to do today was trade inane banter with Upton. After his encounter with Cassie last night, Julian was in the foulest mood of his life. Daphne had told him so. She’d made it a point to inform him on their ride home that she’d never seen him more disagreeable. He was beginning to agree with her about that at least.
Damn it. He shouldn’t have laid a finger on Cassandra last night, let alone all ten of them. He’d meant to tell her that they didn’t need to be disagreeable with each other, instead he’d behaved like a complete animal. Touching her had been its own exquisite form of torture, the kind of torture that was worse than anything the French could dream up. It had taken every ounce of self-control he possessed to keep from ripping open his breeches and taking her then and there on the damn sofa in the middle of someone else’s party. What the bloody hell had he been thinking?
He hadn’t been thinking. That much was obvious. The hurt and pain in her eyes when she’d reached for him and he’d raised his voice to her had been enough to keep him hating himself for months to come. But at least he’d done the right thing, let her go. Cassandra thought he was perfect, or at least she had thought so. He was so damned far from perfect, he couldn’t even see perfect anymore. Kissing Cassie last night, hurting her afterward with his words. That proved it. He’d made his mistake, now he had to live with it. He wasn’t in the mood for Upton’s recriminations. He had enough of his own.
Upton blew a smoke ring into the air. “I’ll cut to the chase.”
“Please do.”
“Don’t hurt her, Swift.”
Julian ground his teeth. He wanted to punch Upton. What would happen if he did? He’d get tossed out of Brooks’s on his ear. It would probably be worth it, but he didn’t want word getting back to Wellington. Instead, he took a deep breath. “Don’t hurt her? That’s rich. Especially coming from you.”
Upton watched him carefully. “You don’t know the power you have to hurt her.”
She doesn’t know the power she has to hurt me. Julian lowered his voice so the others wouldn’t hear. “I should have known there was something between the two of you when I saw you coming out of the library that night at the house party.” He had nearly made love to Cassie on the sofa at the Hillsboroughs’ party last night yet she was all but engaged to this man. What the hell was that about?
Upton narrowed his eyes on him. “What exactly are you implying?”
“Now you’re escorting her around town? I expect you’ll announce your engagement any day now.”
Upton settled back into his chair and blew another smoke ring into the air. “If I didn’t know better, Swift, I’d think you were jealous.”
Julian slapped his palm against the tabletop. “You needn’t have come over here to warn me, Upton. I don’t intend
to speak with her ever again.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
The letter arrived at precisely ten o’clock that morning. The butler delivered it to Cass in the breakfast room where she was doing a positively halfhearted job of attempting to paint a chrysanthemum in a vase. Her painting looked more like a fuzzy yellow blob than the lovely fall flower, so she was happy to turn her attention elsewhere. Painting had hardly kept her from replaying her time with Julian the other night over and over again in her head. She plucked the missive from the silver tray and contemplated it for a moment before ripping it open. Daphne Swift’s pretty, loopy handwriting stared back at her.
Lady Cassandra,
I must explain my behavior from last evening. Please meet me in the park at five o’clock at the head of the path near the rosebushes. I desperately need to speak with you.
L. Daphne Swift
Cass furrowed her brow. Then she reread the letter two more times. What could Daphne possibly want with her in the park? It had been quite odd that the young woman had been trying to sneak out the window at the Hillsboroughs’ party, but she’d never imagined that it was due to something serious. Was Daphne in some sort of trouble? Regardless, Cass couldn’t ignore such a letter. She’d always been fond of Daphne. They’d been friends. Cass would go to meet her.
* * *
Cass arrived at the park at five o’clock. Wearing her butter-yellow riding habit, she rode her own horse sidesaddle and brought only a groom with her. Just in case Daphne wished to keep the details of their meeting a secret, she thought it better not to bring her mother or a maid along as a chaperone. In fact, her mother thought she was taking a nap.
Cass stopped at the head of the path with the rosebushes. She and Daphne had ridden here together before. They’d both remarked upon how lovely the bushes were. It led off down a secluded path that ended at a small lake. It was a beautiful spot. The autumn leaves floated from the trees and crunched beneath her horse’s hooves. The rain from the night before made the ground soft and smell of leaves and the upcoming winter.
Cass didn’t have long to wait. Only a few minutes passed before a horse’s gallop sounded on the path coming toward her.
When the rider came into view, Cass sucked in her breath. It wasn’t Daphne. No. It was Julian. Her stomach leaped, did a somersault, then righted itself with a sickening lurch. She pressed her hand to her middle. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about their—ahem—kiss. She’d been plagued with the memories of it all day, in fact. Had been scarcely able to think of anything else. But what was Julian doing here? He’d made it quite clear that he didn’t want anything to do with her.
As soon as he saw Cass, Julian drew back the reins and brought his mount to a stop. He was wearing buckskin breeches and black riding boots, a dark blue waistcoat and gray wool overcoat along with his white shirt and cravat and black hat. She wanted to look away, but she couldn’t. She blushed. The memory of his mouth on hers, his hands touching her body, scalded her mind.
They both stared at each other, unblinking.
“Where is Daphne?” Julian asked, glancing around, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“That’s a good question,” Cass replied, clutching her reins as if they were her only lifeline, her fingers cramped from the effort. “Are you meeting her here, too?”
He turned his face slightly to the side as if to look down the path for his sister. “She sent me a note not fifteen minutes ago. She told me it was urgent that we meet in the park. Now.”
Cass closed her eyes. She’d been duped, duped by little Daphne Swift of all people. “She wrote me a letter this morning asking me to meet her here at five o’clock.”
Julian snapped his head back to face her. His features were a mask of stone. “Did you plan this with Daphne?”
Cass’s mouth dropped open. “Are you serious? You honestly think I would try to trick you into—”
His face softened a bit. He held up a hand. “My mistake. Apparently, my sister thinks playing pranks is a lark. My apologies on her behalf.” He swung his mount around and turned to go.
“Wait!” The word escaped Cass’s lips before she had even meant to think it. She cursed herself. Why had she said that? What did she want him to wait for? What more could they say to each other after what had happened last night?
He stopped and turned back to face her. “Yes?”
“I…” Her voice shook. She cursed herself for that. “Would you … care to … go for a ride?”
Confusion clouded his face. He narrowed his eyes again. “With you?”
“Yes.” She glanced down at her gloves where they gripped the leather reins. Oh, the devil may care if he believed she was responsible for this. Daphne had tricked them both, but now that he was here … she didn’t want to let him go.
He maneuvered his mount back toward her and cocked his head to the side. “Where to?”
Cass smiled at him.
Minutes later, they were trotting down the secluded path past the rosebushes. They left Cass’s groom behind to wait for them.
“Mother would disown me if she knew I sneaked away from the groom,” Cass said softly.
“Not to mention you’re with me.” Julian led the way and Cass followed closely behind. “She wouldn’t like that, either.”
“Yes, but that’s only because you are—” She stopped and glanced down at her lap.
“What?” He turned his head to look over his shoulder at her.
“Never mind.” She shook her head.
He turned back to face the path but his voice drifted to her. “You were going to say untitled, weren’t you?”
Cass tugged on her gloves and readjusted her position in the sidesaddle. “Mother has always insisted I marry a man with a title.”
His voice remained clear, strong. “Like Derek?”
“Yes. She was beside herself when I refused him.”
“Like Upton?”
She nodded even though he couldn’t see her.
He stopped and waited for her mount to come alongside his. “You’ve had scores of offers, Cassie. I know from your letters. Why did you refuse them all?”
Cassie. There it was again, his nickname for her. It made her heart ache. “I refused them because I didn’t love them.”
His eyebrows shot up.
“What?” she asked. “Does that surprise you?”
“Yes, actually.”
“I never told you that before?” she asked, trying to concentrate on maneuvering her horse around a fallen tree.
“Not in those words.” He shook out his reins.
Her horse cleared the tree and Cass expelled her breath. “Why did you think I refused all my suitors?”
He gave her a sidewise smile. “I assumed none of them were good enough for you.”
She laughed. “Even Derek? The duke?”
“You weren’t even tempted?” Julian asked with a chuckle.
Cass sobered. “If you could see him and Lucy together, you’d know in an instant they were destined for each other. Jane and I knew right away.”
Julian nodded. “I don’t doubt it. How is Her Grace doing these days?”
Cass lifted her chin. “I don’t know. I’m not speaking to Lucy.”
Another raised brow. “You’re not speaking to your closest friend?”
She glanced away. “She … she gave me some very bad advice.”
“Lucy was the one who said you were Patience.” His voice was solemn.
“Yes.”
“But you could have easily corrected her that day.”
“I know.”
“But still, you blame her?”
They came upon the small lake then. Julian stopped, dismounted, and tied his horse to a nearby tree. He made his way over to Cass’s horse and put his hands on Cass’s waist to help her down. The feel of his hands on her made her insides tingle.
He lifted her easily. Once she had a sure footing on the leaf-strewn ground, he let go of her waist. She glanced away
. He cleared his throat. They walked together slowly down to the water’s edge.
Cass shook herself. What had they been speaking about before he touched her? Oh, yes. Lucy. “You have to know Lucy. This isn’t the first time she’s got me into trouble. Be bold, she always says. Look where being bold has got me.”
He cracked a smile. “On an outing with a useless second son.”
Cass stopped and looked up into his eyes. “Julian, please tell me you don’t really believe that, that you’re useless.”
He bent down and scooped up a stone. He drew back his arm and skipped the pebble over the water. “But I do.”
Cass pressed a hand to her throat. It ached. “You never told me that.”
He skipped another stone, still staring out ahead across the water. “I suppose it’s not something you write in a letter, even to a friend.”
She searched his profile. “What isn’t?”
His gaze searched the horizon. “That one day, when you were fourteen, your father told you that you were unnecessary.”
Cass sucked in her breath. “He did not!”
“It doesn’t matter.”
Cass touched his arm. He didn’t look at her. “It matters. Very much. To me,” she said. “Please tell me he didn’t say that.”
Julian hefted another stone in his hand. “He used that exact word actually, unnecessary. By the time I was fourteen, Donald had already come of age. He’d survived childhood. He was ready to take over one day. I was no longer needed.”
Cass pressed a hand against her thumping heart. “What sort of a monster would say that to a young boy?”
Julian turned to face her. “What sort of a monster would tell a young girl that she is only as good as the man who will marry her?”
The Accidental Countess Page 21
