The Abduction of Julia (21 page)

“It was no bother.” Alec raked a hand through his still wet hair, his fingertips parting the thick strands in a way that left Julia breathless. A drip of water ran down his cheek and he grinned. “Well, it was a
bit
of a bother.”

Julia nodded dumbly, realizing she must resemble a witless sheep. But no woman could have looked upon Devil Hunterston, drenched with bath water, and remain any more composed than she.

He suddenly chuckled, his eyes glinting silver. “Perhaps we should offer to train Muck as a footman for Burroughs. I think he’d like that, don’t you?”

Julia opened her mouth. To her horror, she heard herself murmur, “You are wonderful.”

He recoiled as if she’d struck him. “
What?"

Embarrassment seared through her, but Julia forced a shrug. “You are wonderful, to help with Muck.”

His brow lowered. “Don’t make me into a saint. It’s a good thing I didn’t catch that brat this morning. I may not have used the brush on him, but I sure as hell would have boxed his ears.”

To Julia’s relief, Burroughs entered the foyer. “Breakfast is served,” he intoned.

The butler had regained his usual state of propriety, his hair combed, his cravat neatly tied. He turned to Alec. “I believe you have a meeting with the executors this morning, my lord.”

Alec glanced down at his sodden appearance. “I need to change. It wouldn’t do for the old windbags to see me like this.”

“Yes, my lord.” Burroughs bowed and withdrew.

“What do the executors want?” Julia asked.

“My thoughts exactly, love.”

Love
.
She knew he said the word without meaning, a flippant caress he gave without thinking, yet her heart danced with excitement.

“If I were to guess, they wish to reiterate the conditions of the will.” A bitter smile flickered for an instant before disappearing.
“As though I need a reminder.”

Julia almost winced. Thanks to Muck, Alec had received plenty of unpleasant reminders of his wedded state. “Perhaps I should accompany you. It doesn’t seem fair you should have to face such curmudgeons alone.”

“I hardly think that necessary.”

“A pity.
I’ve never met an executor before. It might be interesting.”

A smile lifted the corner of his mouth. “They aren’t elephants, love. They are just a bunch of philanthropists with no appreciation for the finer things in life.”

Though his words were not directed at her, they stung nevertheless. Irked, she asked, “What do you mean by ‘finer things’?”

Alec regarded her with a spark of amusement. “I mean those things that bring pleasure.”

Her brow creased. “You mean happiness.”

“No. I mean pleasure.
Physical pleasure.”

A delicious flood of pink swept her cheeks. “Oh,” she said.
“That kind of pleasure.”

With her bonnet askew, gloved hands clutching her reticule for dear life, Julia could not have appeared more innocent.
Or more delectable.
For some reason, he felt an absurd need to strip away her
primness,
to rattle her composure beyond their kisses—kisses that tortured him more than she would ever know.

Alec’s control was thread thin and ready to snap at the smallest instance. Yet he could not stop dreaming of possessing her. He dreamed of her by night and burned for her by day. He took a step closer. “Tell me, Julia, what brings you pleasure?”

She stepped away until her back was against the newel post. Twisting the cords of her reticule nervously, she regarded him with a wary expression. “Well… I had a maraschino jelly at the Comptons’ ball once that was quite nice.”

Alec had to smile. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

Her clear green gaze fastened on him, sending a hum of warmth through him. “My Aunt Lydia said you were a man devoted to empty pleasures, the kind no honest woman should know about.”

He wondered that she could make him laugh even as he burned with yearning. “I hate to tell you, love, but that wasn’t meant as a compliment.”

“I didn’t think it was. Aunt Lydia never says anything nice unless she is speaking about Therese.
Horrid woman, my aunt.”

It always amazed him how dispassionately she spoke. Amazed—and, he admitted, not a little challenged. There she stood, calm and self-possessed, a confirmed virgin with no stain on her conscience. Meanwhile he, a blackened sinner, felt as if he were tied in a thousand knots, a prisoner of his own unbridled lust. How many times had he halted outside her door, wondering what she would feel like, writhing beneath him, her long legs locked around his waist as he took her to the heights of passion?

The urge to punish her for the discomfort she’d caused welled within him and silenced the lonely voice of his conscience. Disregarding anything but his increasing desire, he closed the space between them until she had to tip her head back to meet his gaze. “Do you know pleasure, Julia?
Real pleasure?”

She gave a jerky nod, regarding the stair behind him as if planning her escape. “I have if you count maraschino jelly.”

He reached out and captured one of her golden brown curls. The strands clung to the roughness of his hands like a silken net. “Pleasure is something far grander than maraschino jelly, love.”

“Oh.” Her mouth trembled ever so slightly.

Alec leaned forward until his mouth drifted a scant inch from hers. “Pleasure is so many things, Julia.
A waltz on a balcony under the caress of the moon.
The thrill of placing a bet you know will win.” His voice lowered.
“The hint of mint in the air after a spring rain.”

“Mint… spring rain,” she repeated. Her tongue appeared between her lips, running across the sensual slope and leaving a fascinating trail of glistening wetness.

He brushed the back of his hand across her jaw, lingering on the curve of her neck. She swallowed, her graceful throat moving with the effort. As elegant as a swan, her every gesture resonated with economical beauty.

“There is more,” he said, lowering his voice to a husky whisper.

Her gaze fluttered upward. “I was afraid there would be.”

The sensual heat in her eyes whispered to him of dark pleasures. He wondered how she would taste today.
All prim and sugary?
Warm and soft, like innocence melted with desire? Or would she surprise him with heated passion so raw and overwhelming that it threatened to consume them both?

Heedless of his wet clothing, he pressed against her, allowing the evidence of his desire to rake along her hip. She gasped and he threaded his hand through her hair, holding her in place. Her scent wafted to him. “Pleasure, my sweet Julia, is the scent of lemons and cinnamon in a place you least expect it.”

Tension flowed between their bodies like the tide at full moon. The rapid pulse that beat in the delicate hollow of her neck told him she felt it, too—and fought the urge just as he did.

But why?
Why fight such an attraction? Julia had denied him the physical release that would lessen his yearning. Perhaps she yearned as much as he. If he possessed any nobility of character whatsoever, he would do what he could to remedy both of their frustrations.

Pleased with his reasoning, he smiled and cupped his hand over the smooth cream of her cheek. Cool and silken under his fingers, her skin warmed. He whispered, “The highest form of pleasure makes your heart thrum so hard, you wonder if it will expire from too much feeling, too much sensation. It is more than a kiss.”

“More than a kiss?
Heavens,” she said faintly.

Behind her spectacles, her eyes seemed unfocused, her breathing rapid and shallow.

Alec trailed his fingers along the line of her cheekbone just below the rim of her spectacles. “As you can see, maraschino jelly doesn’t even compare.”

She closed her eyes and shivered, swaying toward him. Her breasts brushed his chest through the opening in his shirt, and Alec gritted his teeth. He was taking this much too far. He knew it, yet could no more stop than he could capture the sun.

Julia clutched at the newel post with both of her hands, the hopelessly mangled reticule dangling between them. “You… you can stop now.”

The husky tones of unrelenting desire trembling in her voice pulled him closer. “No, I can’t,” he answered, slipping her spectacles from her nose. She didn’t protest
,
her eyes fixed on his with silent pleading.

“Julia, let me show you how delicious, how fulfilling passion can be. Please,” his voice slipped into a whisper, “come to my room.”

Her eyes widened ever so slightly, her lips parting.
“I
—
”

“Pardon me, yer lordship,”
came
Johnston’s strident voice.

Cheeks flooded with color, Julia clutched her reticule to her chest like a shield.

Alec clenched his teeth as waves of intense frustration pounded through him. He fixed a fiery gaze on Johnston. “
What
?‘

The groom looked at the ceiling, his ears suspiciously red. “Burroughs said ye needed the carriage.”

Julia’s gaze lifted to Alec. Her eyes
glowed
an incredible green, the black center expanded to a velvet sea of lingering desire. She silently pleaded for things she could not possibly understand. A twinge of conscience nipped at him and he scowled. What was he doing? Kisses were one thing. Seduction was something else.

He turned to Johnston, guilt reducing his desire to a lonely ache. “Walk the horses until I have changed.”

The groom nodded and left.

Alec’s stomach knotted in frustration. He would gladly forgo breakfast this morning.

From upstairs came a wild screech, and Julia cast a relieved glance at the landing. “Mrs. Winston needs some assistance.” Before he could stop her, she darted past him, racing up the stairs as if hell hounds nipped at her heels.

Alec started to reach for her, but Mrs. Winston’s round face peering over the banister stayed him. He halted and scowled. If he didn’t know better, he’d almost think his servants had set themselves up as Julia’s protectors. A ridiculous thought, knowing how devoted they were to his interests, but one he couldn’t quite remove.

He watched his wife ascend the stairs, her damp skirts clinging to her long legs with each step. His discomfort already beyond endurance, he remained where he was until she disappeared from the landing and into her room, the door closing with a soft thud.

Alec let out a breath and slumped against the railing. Julia had burst into his life, forced him to the life of a monk,
then
transformed into a siren right before his eyes. He wasn’t a man used to being denied and was even less used to denying himself. He raked a hand through his hair. He was faced with the most damnable dilemma: his wife, every dewy, innocent inch of her, responded to his caresses like an avowed wanton, and yet he was honor bound not to proceed beyond a simple kiss.

Had he any sense, he would cease demanding the daily kiss that had become sheer, agonizing torture. Alec stared up the stairs where his wife had just walked.

But he would not relinquish his right to claim her lips. Not yet.

To say that no one recognized Julia in her new finery would be a misstatement, but several people openly stared and at least one young couple came to a complete halt on the dance floor, mouths agape. A hum of excitement rose as the gossips pointed and whispered.

“It appears we are the topic of conversation tonight.” Alec cast a quick glance over his shoulder. “Of course, we would be.”

Julia followed his glance to where Muck followed in silent awe. Ferret-faced, with two great pointed front teeth and a thin nose that quivered like a rat’s, the child’s unattractiveness was made all the more memorable by a pair of ears several sizes larger than they should have been.

Resplendent in a uniform of blue velvet, Muck was on his best behavior and had done nothing more irritating than asking nine or ten times in the carriage how long it would take them to arrive.

Alec bent to Julia’s ear. “Nervous?” His breath stirred her hair and sent a shiver dancing down her back.

She nodded but refrained from looking directly at him. She was weakening. For his sake as well as her own, she needed to keep some space between them.

Somehow, she must show Alec the error of his wicked ways, how he wasted his innate talents on futile pleasure seeking. If only she could find a way to do it without succumbing to those pleasures herself.

She nervously fingered the soft edge of her cashmere shawl. “Today was rather frantic, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, it was.”

Something in his tone caught her attention and she cast him a quick glance, then instantly regretted it. Dressed in formal evening attire, a lock of dark hair shadowing his silver-gray eyes, he was as disturbingly handsome as an angel.

Only he was no angel, she reminded herself. She could still hear his sensual voice, husky with meaning, as he described the earthly pleasures he so enjoyed. All he had to do was touch her and she melted like a pat of butter on a piece of well-toasted bread.

Alec glanced over her head to the other side of the room and frowned. “Damn. There’s Nick.”

Julia followed his gaze. Nick stood beside Therese, both looking as if they had just stepped from the pages of the fashionable
La Belle Assemblee
. Nick caught their eye and made an elaborate bow, murmuring something to Therese that caused her to laugh behind her fan.

“One day,” Alec muttered, his jaw clenched. “One day he and I will settle our differences, once and for all.”

“Why are you so against him?”

Alec raised his brows and said coolly, “Surely Mrs. Winston has already told you about Nick. She seems to enjoy divulging family secrets.”

Julia supposed it must be galling to have a servant repeat
your
every fumble and foible over cream cakes and tea. “She hasn’t gotten to Nick yet. She’s painfully chronological. The last time I spoke with her, you had just had your twelfth birthday and had infuriated your grandfather by kissing the milkmaid.”