A Perfect Hero (14 page)

Kitten
, he had said. Lord, but it seemed so in
nocent! Indeed, he’d grown so used to it, it emerged unwittingly. But then he remembered that once before her temper had flared high. Why, he wondered.
Why
?

Now, in the aftermath, it was as if she’d been bled of every drop of strength. Dane sat in the chair before the fire, cradling her on his lap. Turning her face into his neck, she sobbed qui
etly, pitiful, heart-wrenching sobs that turned him inside out. Something caught at his chest—at his very soul.

He let her cry until at last she was spent. She lay with her head on his chest, her hand curled beside it. One hand drifted up and down her spine.

With the other he guided a damp chestnut curl behind her ear. “Julianna,” he said softly. “What were you thinking of? What happened to you?” He paused uncertainly, his gaze mutely questioning.

She shivered. She shivered as if she were caught
in the midst of a freezing storm from the north. Dane covered her hands in his. Her skin was ice-cold. He weaved his fingers through hers, seeking to warm her.

“Tell me, sweet.”

She regarded him with tear-bright eyes. “He killed them,” she said woodenly.

“Who?” he prompted gently. “What?”

She swallowed hard. “My father,” she said jerkily. “He killed my kittens.” There was a heartrending pause. “He drowned them, Dane. He
drowned
them.”

Dane sucked in a breath. “What happened?” he asked quietly.

“I was perhaps eight or so. I ...we were at Thurston Hall, in the country. My brothers were away at school. The tabby in the stable gave birth to kittens. They were darling, so soft. So sweet. Two were white as snow, the other a spotted tabby like his mother. When they were born, I asked my father if I could have one for my very own. I—I was rather lonely, you see. But he said he wouldn’t have such creatures in his house, that they were dirty and filthy and belonged in the sta
ble with the mice. But I didn’t care. They were so darling. So when they were old enough to be away from their mother, I took them.

“They made me laugh, Dane. I can still see them chasing each other’s tails. I named them— Alfred, Rebecca, and Irwin. I—I pretended they
were my babies. I wrapped them in blankets and cuddled them. I played with them and scolded them and sang to them ...they even slept with me in my bed.” A wisp of a smile crossed her lips.

It waned all too soon, though.

She continued. “But my father...he found them in my room one day. He was furious. He shouted and raged. I had disobeyed him. And he wasn’t a man to stand for that, not from any of his children. So I had to be punished.”

“Good God! He punished you by drowning your kittens?”

She nodded.

Dane swore silently. No wonder she hated be
ing called
kitten
.

But there was more.

He could only listen while she went on. “He dumped them in a sack and grabbed my hand. I remember crying, all the way to the stream.” There was a tiny little break in her voice. “He... he made me watch. He made me
listen
.” Tears slid unchecked down her cheeks. She cringed, clamping her hands over her ears and curling into a tight little ball against him.

His heart stood still. “Oh, Jesus,” he whis
pered, feeling himself pale...and feeling her pain like the stab of a knife.

Dane’s lips compressed to a thin, harsh line. In
side he was seething. A black rage blistered his
gut, darker than any he’d ever known. Damn the bastard who had been her father! If the wretch had been before him now, he’d have taken great pleasure in throttling the man. How could any man do such a thing to his own child?

“I suppose you think it’s silly.” Her voice was muffled against his shoulder.

He stroked the groove of her spine, a soothing, monotonous movement. “No. Lord, no.” Ten
derhearted Julianna, always looking after her an
imals ...and now him. So sweet. So nurturing. He could see how it battered her—how it still hurt her. He was stunned by her revelation. It was so different from his own childhood.

Something nagged at his brain. Seeing her like this, he was more puzzled than ever that no man had wed her—that she had never married. It wasn’t just her beauty. She possessed a sweetness of nature that shone from within. She was meant to be a wife, a mother, to hold her children close to her breast as she had once held her kittens.

He should have known. Perhaps he
had
known. There was strength behind her softness. Darkness behind the screen of fragile beauty. Se
crets behind the lightness of her smile.

“It was the blood that did it,” she said sud
denly. “When my kittens drowned, there wasn’t any blood . . .” Graceful fingers plucked at the front of his shirt. She raised her head and stared
at him, her eyes huge and wounded. “Dane... the dog...will you—”

“I’ll bury him,” he finished gently, so she wouldn’t have to.

“Thank you.” She whispered her gratitude.

“You’re quite welcome.” His expression solemn, he watched her. All of a sudden her gaze shied away.

He frowned. “What is it?”

“I’ve done it again. I don’t know why I’m telling you this,” she confided, her voice very low. “It was something I never even told my brothers.”

“Why not?” He was more curious than any
thing else. From the way she spoke of her broth
ers, he’d already guessed that they were close.

“It wouldn’t have changed what happened. There was nothing they could have done. But mostly—I couldn’t bear to think of it again.”

“Little wonder.” Dane’s lips were thin. “Ju
lianna, forgive me for being blunt, but I wouldn’t have liked your father.”

“I’m not sure anyone did,” she said after a mo
ment. “He was a harsh, rigid man, very stern.” She seemed to hesitate. When she spoke again, her voice was barely audible. “I was almost four
teen when he died. And—I cried when my kittens died. But I didn’t cry when
he
died. May God for
give me, but—I wasn’t sad. The truth is ...I was almost relieved. I felt . . . like perhaps we could finally be happy, Sebastian, Justin, and I.” Shad
ows invaded her eyes. “Do you think that’s terri
bly wrong of me?”

“Not,” he stated grimly, “under the circum
stances.”

She bit her lip. “And that, too, is something I’ve never told anyone.”

Dane couldn’t help it. He was rather uncom
fortable. He liked that she trusted him enough to confide in him so. Yet a sliver of guilt cut through him. He hadn’t earned her trust. He didn’t de
serve it, not really. For he had not been totally open with her...

But he couldn’t tell her the truth. There was too much at stake. He couldn’t risk involving her.

His mind drifted. After a moment he said, “We all have our demons, Julianna. For I, too, have something I’ve never told a living soul.”

“You do? Truly?”

He nodded, steeling himself. “I’m afraid,” he admitted at last.

“You? Of what?”

“Of dying.” He released a long breath. “I wasn’t, until Waterloo. When one is young, it’s not something one worries about, is it? Like you, it was...something I prefer not to think about. It was—a battle unlike any other. Volleys of mus
ket and cannon fire all around. Smoke so thick we nearly choked. We certainly couldn’t see. I thought it would never end! I remember, men were falling all around me. Like sticks being
felled by a hand from above. And when it was over, thousands were dead all around me, and I was alive. And all I could feel was a mind-numbing relief that it was them, and not me. I was hailed as a hero, when in truth I was, in a word, or rather two, quite terrified. And that made me feel like a coward. And so”—he shook his head—“so very ashamed.”

“Ashamed! Why?”

“Because I was glad—glad!—that I was alive. That I had not been the one to die. That someone else had fallen—and not me.” He hesitated. “It seems wrong somehow.”

“I don’t think it’s wrong to feel that way. I should imagine anyone would feel like that. It’s simply that not everyone would admit to it.”

“Perhaps. Perhaps not. But either way, since that day, I”—Christ, he could barely stand to say it—“I cannot bear to think of death and dying.”

He lapsed into silence, then tipped his head to the side and regarded her. “Any more secrets you wish to share?”

To his surprise, a look of utter surprise flitted across her features. The breath she drew was deep and ragged. Her lips parted.

With his thumb he wiped the glistening dampness from her cheek. “Here now! I’m only teasing.”

“Dane—”

His arms encircled her. “You don’t have to say any more, sweet, I swear.” He drew her tight against him—tight!—sliding his arms around her back and bringing her against him. It seemed she clung to him forever. The damp heat of her tears against his shirt twisted him into knots.

And then it happened.

Slowly she raised her head.

Their eyes locked.
They
were locked fast in an intimate embrace. A
scorchingly
intimate em
brace, the air between them heated and close. At some point her arms had twined around his neck. She was so slight he could barely feel her weight in his lap. But he could feel the press of soft, ripe breasts resting against his chest. One slim leg was wedged between the steely strength of his; her thigh pressed against his rod. Heat rose in his body—he couldn’t stop it.

He swelled hard and full.

She swallowed.

Silence thundered all around them.

He stared down at her, sensing she was caught in the same shattering void as he. A current of awareness streaked through him. Her eyes were riveted to his, her arms wound tight around his neck. Everything inside him had gone taut.

He sucked in a harsh breath. God, she smelled like lemons, crisp and light, a scent that was uniquely hers. Holding her against him like
this...it was part joy, part pain. His gaze traced the contours of her face, the delicate molding of her cheeks and chin.

A voice in his head clamored for him to release her. His mind urged one course, while his body willed otherwise. He didn’t trust himself to touch her. He
shouldn’t
trust himself to touch her. But the afternoon sunlight was shining through her hair, making it shimmer like honey. Her mouth was dewy and tremulous and vulnerable, hover
ing but a breath beneath his.

His hands clenched on her waist, whether to lift her away, or draw her nearer still, he didn’t know.

It was she who broke the stalemate.

Her eyes were still awash with tears, blue and shimmering. He couldn’t look away as her finger
tips came to rest directly on the center of his lips. “Dane,” she whispered. “
Dane.
” And within that sound was immersed the same fierce yearn
ing, a sound that eroded what little shred of will he possessed.

The moment was young, the time ripe, and a dozen different emotions were roiling inside him...

And then there was no turning back.

His mouth captured hers, a kiss of deep, rous
ing exploration. There was no withholding it. He succumbed to a desire that had been building for days. And knowing she was not indifferent to him set him afire like flame to tinder.

In one swift surge of power he was on his feet, bearing her to the bed.

He eased down beside her. Her gaze never left his as she trailed her fingers over his jaw. Her eyes searched his face. “I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”

A half smile curled his lips. “A puny little thing like you? I think not.” He caught her hand and pressed a kiss into her palm.

Her fingertips extended, the merest caress. She looked up at him, as if to gauge his reaction.

His smile faded. His eyes darkened.

Slowly, he lowered his head. His kiss was lan
guid and unhurried. Her eyelids fluttered shut. Her lips parted. She offered her mouth with a breathless little sound of pleasure. The tip of her tongue touched his, her response sweetly unbri
dled. She tasted delicious, and he pictured the delicate pink tip of her tongue lapping against his naked skin. Venturing across his chest, swirling around his navel, down his belly until she reached his—

The vision shook him to his very bones. It was like a fist ramming hard into his gut, driving the air from his lungs. Sweet Christ,
that
didn’t bear thinking about. His mouth opened wider as he caught her to him, his kiss turning almost fero
cious. Her hands slipped beneath his shirt, sliding along his ribs, creeping upward, a tentative ex
ploration until finally her palms splayed wide on the bare skin of his back. She arched against him,
the entire sweet length of her body against his. A shudder tore through him, and he nearly groaned.

His fingers fumbled with the ribbon that laced the neck of her gown. He plunged his fingers in
side the cloth, tugging it aside and revealing the sleekness of her shoulder...revealing her breast.