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R eadying for bed was a never-ending task, especially when Julia was uncertain what William would request after winning.

He had allowed the servants to assist them in readying for bed before he finally dismissed them.

Through the entirety of it, Julia’s stomach had been awash with a churning of emotions: anxiety, anticipation, excitement.

She was nearly certain his reward would not be sexual congress.

Not when he was so determined to win her over.

He’d been equally as determined to win at charades.

He’d laughed along with the others, but when it was his turn, he had taken on an air of seriousness that spoke volumes. He’d meant to win. And he had.

She stood by the bed, uncertain if she should climb beneath the covers, or sit on the bed.

In the end, she crossed her arms over the thin nightgown and waited for William to finish washing his face.

Once he’d folded the towel in his immaculate way, he strode toward her in his nightshirt, one purposeful step at a time.

“You’ve won,” she said. “What will you claim as your prize?”

He let his gaze wander down her nightgown and gave a lazy smile that made her stomach positively twirl. “So I have. And I can ask for anything?”

Heavens! What was he planning to request from her?

“Yes,” she answered cautiously.

He closed the distance between them, so her crossed arms actually pressed against his nightshirt, to the heat of his very strong chest. With gentle hands, he carefully unfolded her arms and then lifted his fingers to her face in a featherlight touch that framed her jaw.

A warm tingle erupted where he caressed.

His eyes were so dark in the low candlelight; she could not discern the pupil from the color surrounding it, though she knew them to be the warmest brown.

He lowered his face to hers, his sensual mouth so close, his breath brushed over her chin. Her heartbeat caught, but then thundered with undeniable impatience.

“I want to kiss you,” he said in a low, intimate voice.

An eager shiver raked over her skin.

“That’s all you wish for your prize?” she asked breathlessly. “A kiss?”

“Yes.” His mouth lowered, and swept against hers, cool from having recently washed his face.

He did this several times, a maddening brush of their lips against one another, pausing only every now and then to kiss her bottom lip, her top lip, and then both. Fire coiled low in her belly. Her arms slid up his torso, over etched muscle and powerful strength. He was so very, very male.

His tongue touched the seam of her mouth, and she parted for him. Their tongues mated together, cautious and subtle at first, but quickly igniting with a heat echoed by the one pulsing at her core.

William’s hand slid behind the back of her head, cupping it and turning her face up to him. His tongue stroked hers, his mouth kissing, nipping, sucking.

It wasn’t enough for Julia. Not when he had aroused in her such a hunger. She was eager for more and more and more. The hot ache at her center was now practically unbearable.

She arched her body against his and found evidence of his own desire. A moan dragged from the depths of her soul.

He cupped her bottom with his free hand and brought their pelvises together.

The hardness of his arousal met her cleft and she rubbed against him, shameless in her need, eager for that delightful friction.

Their kissing went from passion to frenzy, their mouths slanting, tongues licking, breaths panting.

William held her to him and gave a low, savage growl that made every hair on her body stand on end with primal delight. With that, he broke off the kiss.

“Thank you for my prize.” His chest rose and fell with his ragged breath.

Julia’s mouth fell open. She watched in frustrated horror as he backed away from her and made his way around the bed.

Ravenous desire pounded between her legs, unsatisfied. A soft whimper escaped her lips before she could stop it. Every bit of her was wild with feeling, so that even the scant weight of her nightgown against her stiffened nipples made little ripples of gooseflesh dance over her skin.

She climbed into bed beside him, the sheets cool against her burning skin. What had he done to her?

She curled a naked leg over his. “William, please?”

“Please what, madam?” he asked in a low, gravelly voice.

“Please kiss me again. Touch me. Take me.” She ran her hands over the swell of his chest and practically melted at the impossible strength there. “Please,” she whispered.

He did not answer, and she nearly cried out. Surely, he was not asleep already. Who could possibly sleep with everything throbbing and glowing with the heat of a thousand glowing embers?

But she knew all the begging in the world would not get her what she wanted. Only winning a blasted game would, and since this was the last night, she hoped Nancy had something planned tomorrow before their departure. She needed more time.

The wind howled through the night and well beyond morning. William had been awake for all of it. Judging by the rustling about and perpetual tossing and turning, so too had Julia.

He had known simply kissing her would be the sweetest torture, but he had not anticipated the level of discomfort his unsatisfied body would heap upon him. His groin ached, and his veins seemed to pulse with thick mud rather than blood.

It was the first time in the fortnight of their marriage he’d woken up with his wife. Dark hair tousled around her face, making her look pleasantly mussed, as though she’d been well-loved rather than having slept poorly.

Her mouth curled into a shy smile. “Good morning.”

Her nightgown had slipped from one shoulder, leaving it bare and tempting in the light easing in from around the edge of the curtains.

She followed his gaze and quickly pushed up the drooping cloth.

That wasn’t all. She grasped the covers and tucked them about under her arms with the yards of thick cloth layered over her like a shield.

He raised his brows. “For a woman who wishes me to move along in the business of procreation, you certainly are rather missish this morning.”

“But the sun is up.”

Oh yes, the sun was up. And that was how he’d prefer to see her best, with those golden rays kissing her flawless skin. “Once I have finally had you again, wife, I will have you anywhere and at any hour.”

She stammered, “I beg your pardon?”

“Including in the full light of day.” He tugged lightly at the blanket.

It fell free from her limp grasp to reveal one soft pink nipple beneath the thin linen nightgown.

“Where I can see all of you. Touch all of you.” He grinned as the little bud grew taut and strained at the fabric. “Taste all of you.”

Her mouth parted, but before she could say more, he drew away, more for his sake than for her own. God, he ached fiercely for her. Acutely.

To his surprise, she slipped from the bed as well, and did not bother to put on her robe.

Sunlight limned the outline of her body beneath, highlighting the dip of her waist and an enticing line of light between her slender thighs.

He pulled back a corner of the curtain in desperate need to escape and was blinded with the brilliance of sheer white outside.

Julia drew back with him, shielding her eyes. Together, they blinked and gazed out once more. A thick layer of snow coated the world beyond, hiding the exact location of the lake and burying bushes. The roads would be impassable for travel regardless.

“I think we will be staying here for another day,” Julia said brightly.

“At least. Why does that have you so happy?”

“It’s another day to win games.” She smiled. “It’s my turn.” Her gaze fell on his forearm where his nightshirt had ridden up and her quiet joy faltered. “What happened there?”

William brushed the sleeve into place, covering the mottled flesh.

He’d made sure to keep that arm turned from Julia’s sight until now.

It ran along the outside of his forearm, a violent mass of thick, twisted skin.

A small scar by comparison to what it could have been, how close he’d come to death.

“A burn, that is all.” He released the drapes and the room blanketed in darkness.

“Were you in a fire?” she asked.

“Yes.” He strode away from the windows and went to the ewer to wash his face.

“When?”

Why did she have to press him so? He splashed cold water on his face, but it did not blot out the memories of that day, the screams of his parents as the flames consumed them.

He scrubbed at his face, but he could not scour away the weight of guilt in his heart.

A lifetime of consideration had taught him that it would never lessen.

He folded the linen neatly and set it beside the ewer.

“Do you prefer balls or soirees?” he asked.

“Balls,” she answered. “I enjoy dancing.”

“You’re quite good at it.” He ran a comb through his hair, straightening what he could until Hodges made an appearance to do it for him.

“Almost as good as you are at deflecting questions.” She tilted her chin, having clearly made an accurate point. “And almost as good as I am at games. I will be the victor today.”

Before he could say anything further, her maid, Edith, entered the room with the tray of hot chocolate, bobbed a quick curtsey, and set about her tasks for the day.

Soon he would see exactly how good Julia was. They both had much to gain. And even more to lose.