Page 49

Yet, he couldn’t presume that’s what she meant.

An escritoire with a delicate chair sat against the wall, and a settee too small even for a woman to stretch out, much less for a man his size, was at the foot of the four-poster bed.

He supposed he could sleep on the floor. “May I borrow one of your pillows?”

Vertical lines formed between her eyes, and he wished to smooth them away with a kiss. “Why?”

Pointing to the floor, he answered. “To sleep.”

Cheeks darkening, she gave him a shy smile. “There are plenty of pillows on my bed. When I asked you to spend the night with me, I meant...”

“You want us to make love?”

So soft, he barely heard her reply as her gaze darted to the lush Aubusson carpet. “Yes.”

Wrapped up in the marvel of the woman before him, Victor remained silent and relished the moment. The gravity of Juliana’s offer wasn’t lost on him. In giving herself to him before marriage, she would not only prove her love, but her promise to marry him.

When he didn’t respond, her gaze shot back to his. “Unless you don’t want to.”

“Oh, I want to. I want to very much.” With the back of his fingers, he traced the delicate curve of her cheek and relished in the velvet softness of her skin. “I didn’t do you justice.”

She blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Your portrait. I believed it to be good, but I realize now it doesn’t compare to you in this moment. The blush of your cheeks, the glow of love in your eyes, the way your lips part as if ready to whisper words of longing. Why didn’t I see it before? Nash was right. I’m a blind dolt.”

“See what?”

“How much you love me. I want you to see that love in me, too, Juliana.”

She took his hand, still stroking her face and kissed the palm. Her eyes widened. “Your hands! And your poor face. You’re hurt.”

Tugging his arm, she led him to the chair by the escritoire. “Sit.”

A chuckle rumbled his chest at her assertiveness. “As you wish.”

At the washbasin, she dipped in a cloth and wrung it out. “Let me see your hands.”

Palms up, he laid his hands on his thighs. Abrasions, red but not deep, marked his palms and fingers from the rough brick of the outside wall.

With tenderness that made his chest ache, she knelt at his feet and dabbed at the lash on his face the ivy branch left, then cleaned his hands. “I should have done something sooner. Thank goodness they’re not any worse. Your hands are precious.”

As she fussed over him, he wanted to give her the same loving attention. To cradle her with so much love and care, she would never doubt his feelings for her.

Satisfied the scrapes were clean, she rose and stepped to her dressing table. “I have some salve that will help with the healing.” Back at his feet, she dabbed the soothing salve on his face and hands. She grinned up at him. “Sometimes I ride without my gloves.”

“Such a rebel.” He grinned back at her.

Her laugh, bright and airy, did more to heal him than the salve she applied. Mischief glinted in her eyes. “It’s one of the reasons you love me, is it not?”

“One of the many. True.” He pulled her hands away from their ministrations, and rising, pulled her to her feet. “That’s enough. I need another type of medicine.”

“Oh?”

“Medicine for the heart.” Drawing her close, he kissed her—slow and deep, and the world beyond her ceased to exist. “Much better,” he whispered against her lips.

“It’s working.” Long and leisurely, the intensity of the kiss increased as he savored her sweet lips, and when she opened for him, he teased her with his tongue, pleased when she met him stroke for stroke.

He tangled his fingers in her hair, silk-smooth and warm, and drew her closer with each kiss, unable to get enough of her. Breathless, he pulled back and lightly kissed her nose. “You set me off balance, Juliana.”

Hazy with her own desire, her gaze lifted to meet his, her parted lips a vivid vestige of their kisses. “I won’t say I’m sorry.”

A soft laugh escaped. “Nor do I wish you to. But I fear you aren’t thinking clearly as well. Are you certain this is what you want?” His body begged her to say yes, but his mind prepared to respect her wishes if she changed her mind.

“I’m quite certain. I trust you, Victor. Trust in your love.”

Sweeter words had never reached his ears. “I will do my utmost to make it enjoyable for you. Do you know what transpires?”

Her laugh unsettled him. “Victor. Remember, I wish to breed horses. One does not embark on that endeavor without understanding the process.”

“Well, it’s a little different for people, but you have a point; the basic idea is the same.”

Her gaze held his as she unbuttoned his coat, then slipped her hands up and under the front, sliding it off his shoulders. Instead of allowing it to drop onto the floor, she folded it neatly and set it on the chair he had vacated.

He pulled her back into his arms, and lavished kisses down her neck, nibbling on her ear, which, to his delight, made her sigh with pleasure. When she reached for the buttons of his waistcoat, he stopped her. “Allow me.”

With lightning speed, he shed the rest with practiced ease, leaving only his trousers.

The expression of keen interest on her face encouraged him. She wasn’t frightened, but he wanted to slow things down. “More kisses are in order.” Over and over, he captured her sweet mouth with his, loving how she responded.

As he trailed his lips down her throat, she arched into him, pressing her hips into his. He groaned with need. Slow down .

And yet, every sigh from her sent him closer to the edge.

His hand traveled up from her waist to brush the underside of her breast. Her breath hitched, her body curving instinctively into his touch.

He teased her nipple with his thumb, then lowered his mouth to suckle through the soft fabric of her nightgown.

Her fingers raked his scalp, pulling his long hair loose from the restraining queue, her passion matching his.

“Juliana,” he whispered, knowing another name would never pass his lips in such moments ever again. “I want you so much, my sweet, sweet Juliana.”

He lifted her into his arms and laid her on the bed. “God...you’re exquisite. Così bella.” He gazed down at her. She lay before him, more breathtaking than any painted Madonna—radiant with quiet trust shining in her eyes. He pulled in a steadying breath, then climbed up beside her.

Emotion rushed through him. He was no novice at lovemaking, but being with Juliana was momentous.

She drew idle patterns through the fine hair on his chest. “Kiss me, Victor.”

His heart hammered against his sternum, and he worried she would feel it.

He placed a gentle kiss at the soft area at her throat, then followed the curve of her neck.

Her pulse fluttered beneath his lips, and he smiled with satisfaction that he affected her as much as she affected him.

He trailed kisses along her jaw, finally capturing her mouth again, and she moaned into his.

Once again, he sought her reassurance. “Tell me again this is what you want.”

“More than anything,” she murmured, her breath warm and seductive against the corner of his mouth.