“I am most certainly not looking for such a thing,” she said indignantly. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I best be getting back—”
But he raised a hand and blocked her exit, to which Juliet could have sworn she heard a growl from the corner. Fortunately, Mr. Shiplack seemed otherwise distracted.
She ducked under his arm, but he was too fast for her. He whipped out a hand, catching her by the elbow, whirling her around, just as she caught a glimpse of the baron and Mrs. Shiplack in the hallway. Shiplack, however, apparently didn’t see and before she could say anything, he pressed himself up against her as he pushed her into the wall, while he lowered his head and pawed at her breasts.
Juliet managed to pull her hand back just in time, her fist connecting with his nose before his lips could descend upon her. A moment later, she saw stars as he reacted by slapping her across the face. Before she could properly recover or even determine what had just happened, however, Mr. Shiplack was ripped away from her, and she had only a moment to register Xander on top of him on the floor.
Suddenly there was a scream from the doorway, and she looked up to find the baron lying out cold in the corridor, Mrs. Shiplack standing overtop him, her cry at the entire scene resounding.
Moments later, the room was full of people, including Damien who pulled Xander up off of Mr. Shiplack, the valet and butler seeing to the baron, and Juliet found that despite the fact she couldn’t stop shaking, she had to first get Mrs. Shiplack quiet or else the chaos was only going to get worse.
She pulled the woman out of the room, taking her down the hall and back to the dining room, where she settled her into a chair. Once the housekeeper joined them and Juliet ensured Mrs. Shiplack was in capable hands, Juliet stumbled into the hallway, stunned for a moment by the rapid sequence of events, the sting on her face, and the understanding of how much worse it all could have been.
Until he was there. Xander wrapped an arm around her, supporting her, and, despite the blood on his knuckles, he helped her down the corridor and up the stairs, leaving the chaos behind them.
Chapter 13
Xander could feel the blood pounding through his veins as he replayed the scene in his head. Of Shiplack, pressing his body on Juliet. Of Juliet, struggling before him. Of the man’s hand reaching out and striking her across the face. All rational thought, all reason had left him, as he had wrenched the man off her and tried to beat him bloody senseless.
If Damien hadn’t pulled him off, he wasn’t sure how far he would have gone.
He closed his eyes and took a breath as he felt the vibrancy of the woman beside him, wrapped in his arm.
He had to maintain control. For Juliet.
In the chaos, once a fair bit of reason and focus had begun to drip back into his mind, he had looked for her, panicking when he couldn’t find her. But as Damien began to see to everyone else in the room, Xander was able to properly search for her, finding her his only goal.
Now he never wanted to let her go.
Annabelle passed them on the stairwell, her eyes wide with concern, but Juliet assured her that all was fine and that Xander would look after her. Annabelle nodded, her expression saying that she understood far more than Juliet might be saying, but she continued down the stairs, likely to help with all the commotion remaining below.
Finally they were in Juliet’s room, blessedly alone.
“Are you all right?” Xander asked, turning and gently wrapping his hands around the top of her arms as he looked her over.
“Of course,” she said, as strong as ever, although he couldn’t miss the slight trembling throughout her body. “I told you that I could take care of myself, did I not?”
“I do think you likely broke his nose,” Xander acknowledged. He had heard the crack right before he had taken the man down himself.
He lifted Juliet’s hand within his own bloody fists, seeing the bruised knuckles.
“We best get some cold water on this,” he said, well versed in healing such bruises. “The same with your face.”
She laughed, and he could feel some of the tension begin to ease out of her, for which he was grateful.
“I think you’re worse off.”
“I’m fine,” he said, although he did listen to her and walk over to the washbasin, pouring water over his hands if only to wash away the blood so that he wouldn’t touch her with it.
He poured water over a piece of linen before walking over to Juliet, holding it against her face before lifting her hand and gently pressing the cloth against her knuckles. Somehow the gesture seemed far more intimate than anything else that had occurred between them since they had met again.
“Better?” he asked softly, and she nodded.
“Better.”
He led her over to the bed, sitting her down upon it.
“Tomorrow, Damien and I will try to get into the safe and get the jewels,” he said. “If that doesn’t work, then we will leave — we will all leave. This is getting ridiculous.”
“But what will Arie say if you don’t bring home what he is waiting for?”
Xander shrugged. “I don’t care anymore. It’s more important to keep us out of danger. Shiplack’s involvement and his attempt against you has crossed the line. Besides, I’ve likely now lost my job, and who knows what Wilington is going to say to you — if he is still breathing, that is.”
Juliet bit her lip. “Oh, dear. I didn’t even check on him. I’m a horrible person.”
“I would argue that he is,” Xander returned with a raised eyebrow. “But if it makes you feel better, he was already sitting up when I left to find you. I’d wager his heart couldn’t take all that was happening before him.”
“Oh, I’m glad he was able to rouse himself,” Juliet said on a long exhale. “I’m happy to hear that, at least.”
“You’re far too good a person, Juliet,” Xander said, unable to help himself from reaching out and running a hand down the soft skin of her face.
“I’m not at all,” she protested. “No, I don’t want the man to die, but I am to blame for all the turmoil that is leading to the issues of his heart. He is supposed to be avoiding such situations, and I am causing them!”
“Shiplack caused this.”
“I suppose.”
Xander tucked a strand of honey brown hair behind her ear as he studied her face, those wide eyes, filled with a mixture of love, sorrow, regret, staring up at him.
“I’ve missed you,” he murmured. “So much.”
She shuttered her gaze from him.
“I’ve missed you too. More than you know. I’m just worried, Xander.”
“About what?”
“About you. Me. What will happen if I allow myself to fall in love with you again.”
He had to force himself to breathe, her words nearly wrenching all of the air in the room away from him. “I know I don’t deserve you.”
“You’re a good man, Xander. And I understand now that all you have done was from a good place. But that doesn’t mean you won’t make that decision once more, even with the best of intentions. And I cannot handle that decision again.”
He cupped her face in his hands. “I just want you to be happy.”
“I was happy,” she said, looking up at him, her eyes searching his, “when I was with you.”
He groaned as her words undid him, and he leaned in, tilting her chin up toward him as he dipped his head and took her lips.
Xander waited for her to push him away, to tell him that she couldn’t do this, that it was too much and she needed to put space between them.
But instead, she leaned into him, placing her hands on his chest as though drawing strength from him as she took his lips with as much passionate abandon as he did hers.
He wrapped his arms around her, holding her both tenderly and with the knowledge that he never wanted to let her go again.
As Xander teased her lips open with his tongue, searching, tasting, he was flooded with both relief and incredulity that he woul
d ever have the opportunity to be with Juliet again. He had thought, when he had looked back at her that last time, that he would never see her again, let alone be as close to her as this.
When her fingers began to slip the buttons of his shirt from the holes, he stepped back. Before they went any further than this, he had to be sure that this was what she wanted, that she wouldn’t regret whatever was to come between them.
“Juliet,” he said, hearing the raggedness of his own breath, matching hers in equal measure, “are you sure you want to continue? And your face. I should go get something for your face.”
He reached up, dabbing his fingers tenderly around the mark, having to fight the rage that began within him anew when he saw the purple swelling already forming around it.
“No.” She shook her head, and his heart fell that she wanted him to leave her, even as he knew he was the one who had asked. She must have read his expression, for she quickly continued. “I mean yes, I do want to take this further. But no, do not leave to go get something for my face. Do not leave me again.”
He had a feeling that she wasn’t only speaking about this moment in time, but about forever. He couldn’t make her that promise, not now. But there was one vow he would make to her.
“I promise you, Juliet, that I will make sure that you are never hurt again. Do you understand me?”
She nodded, looking into his eyes as she slipped her hands over his shoulders and drew him closer again.
“I understand. And while I am the only one who can properly protect my own heart… I am ever so grateful to you as well. Now, don’t worry about my face. My face is just fine.”
With that, she stepped up, lifting her lips to his, becoming the aggressor this time as she kissed him harder than he had taken her, and her intent was clear — she wanted him and she was not taking no for an answer.
This time, she was purposeful in her actions as she undid the remainder of his jacket buttons, and he had never been so pleased to be free of the dreadful garment. He threw it to the floor and then shucked his shirt, ripped the buttons on the back of Juliet’s dress, before he much more gently nudged it over her shoulders as she shimmied out of it.
His breath caught at the sight of the creamy expanse of her skin, and as he touched his lips to hers again, he lifted her up and backed her toward the bed, placing her down upon it before inching himself over top of her, framing her between his elbows as he feasted on her mouth.
It had been far, far too long, and he had imagined this moment over and again in his dreams, both while awake and asleep. He was not going to rush this.
As he kissed her, he ran his hand down the delicate bones of her shoulders and collarbones, skimming his fingers over the top of her chemise before he trickled them down lower, cupping her breast in his palm, stroking his thumb over her nipple as she arched her chest up into him, asking for more.
He grinned as, instead, he trailed his hand down to her stomach, laughing when she swatted at him.
“You’re still the worst tease,” she practically growled, and he leaned down and nipped her bottom lip.
“But you love it.”
“I do not!”
“You do.”
As though to prove his point, he lowered his hand, running it down over her hip bone, cupping, pulling her toward him, but not allowing her to brush against him or move any farther.
She pulled back from him, narrowing her eyes.
“Two can play that game,” she threatened, and from the dangerous glint in her eyes, Xander knew he was in trouble.
She reached down and brushed her hand over the fall of his breeches, but made no move to undo them or to search within. She just grinned as her featherlight touch brushed over him, causing him to ache deliciously for her.
“You’ve made your point,” he muttered, causing her to laugh, a sound that he enjoyed more than nearly any other in the world.
He fitted his hands around her to unlace her stays before sliding the chemise down over her shoulders, her waist, her hips, until it was in his hands and then joined the collection of clothing on the floor beside them.
Xander knelt there above her, taking his fill of her, hardly able to believe that this woman was his again — for the night at least. She had been through a rather trying experience this evening, it was true, but she was no simpering miss. She had, much to his regret, been through much more harrowing experiences in her life. His eyes went of their own accord to her thigh, where the jagged pink scar remained, a reminder of the last time they had been together.
“Don’t,” she said, the words stern and yet sympathetic as well. “It wasn’t your fault. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that, but it’s the truth. I was as much a part of the planning and execution of that robbery as you were. I made my decisions as you made yours and I will not have you spending the rest of your life blaming yourself for it.”
“I know, but—”
“No buts,” she said firmly, lifting a finger in the air. “Promise me you will not apologize for it again.”
“I—”
“Promise me.”
He sighed. She could ask him absolutely anything in this moment and he would have been far too weak to deny her.
“I promise.”
“Good. Because I am fully healed and completely fine. Now.” She crooked a finger at him. “Come here.”
He did as she instructed, inching toward her until he was close enough for her to begin undoing the fall of his breeches. He tilted his head back, closing his eyes at how wonderfully amazing it felt to have her fingers on him, those deft fingers that could pick a lock nearly as well as he could, and slip buttons through their holes.
It occurred to him that he had never asked her if she had remained true to him, but then he decided that it didn’t matter. If she hadn’t, it was only because he had left her. She could have been his for life but he had chosen otherwise.
When she finished, he pushed his breeches down over his thighs and calves until he sprang free, jutting out toward her.
“Oh, Xander,” she said with a sigh before lifting her eyes to his. “How I’ve missed you.”
He grinned wolfishly at that before leaning down overtop of her, taking her lips and cupping her breasts within his hands, as he couldn’t seem to get enough, nor feel enough of her. His hands were everywhere, and as much as he wanted to prolong the experience, he was equally aware that he could not take too terribly long, for his body was beginning to have other ideas.
He slid one hand down her body to cup her, his thumb rubbing at her nub as he slid a finger inside of her, finding her wet and ready for him. She threw her head back with a moan, gripping his biceps as she called out “yes, now!” and he wondered if the whole house might have heard.
Not that it mattered as he slid inside her, knowing as he did so that he was coming home — where he belonged.
When he was fully seated within her, they clung to one another, both so overcome that they needed a moment to adjust to the fact that this was real, this was happening, before he began to move. Or rather, they began to move. They had always been so in sync with one another that it was no surprise that they were in unison now as well, as Xander glided in and out of Juliet in the same time that she raised and lowered her hips to him.
He kissed her once, twice, before leaning up on his elbows and staring at her, their eyes meeting in memory of everything that had been between them and everything that was available to them in the future.
If they chose to take it.
Locked together like that, body, mind, and soul, as Juliet began to pulse around him, Xander let out a shout as he lost all control, pumping until he was depleted, everything within him now lost in her.
He was filled with her strength, yet also completely overcome in weakness as he could do nothing more than lie down beside her. He pulled her close to him, wrapping an arm around her as he lifted the fingers of his other hand and began to stroke her hair.
“I thought I
would never again experience that,” she murmured so softly that Xander had to lift himself up on his elbow to better hear her.
“Never?”
“It’s like you said,” she said with a shrug, looking over her shoulder back toward him. “There could never be another. Only you.”
In response, he tightened his arm around her, holding her as close as he could be.
He didn’t think he could ever let go again.
Chapter 14
When the sun hit her face the following morning, Juliet kept her eyes closed for another moment longer. Something deep within felt changed. Different. In a freeing yet altogether concerning kind of way. But what was it?
Her lips curled into a smile as she remembered. Ah yes. Xander.
Of course, there had also been the encounter in the parlor with Shiplack, one that might have far-reaching consequences for both her and Xander. But she far preferred to remember everything that had come afterward instead.
She turned over, reaching out an arm in search of him, but instead she found an empty space in the bed. She sighed. She knew he had responsibilities to attend to and likely much to account for after last night — as did she. And yet, she still would have enjoyed waking up beside him.
She sat up, raising her arms overhead as she wondered whether it would ever happen again — whether there was the chance for them to find their way back to one another, or if this had been a momentary response to all of the emotions that had tumbled out from their evening. From everything Xander had led her to believe, he still felt for her as she did him. Had he, then, overcome his ridiculous reservations that a life without him was safer, better for her than one with him in it? She had no idea, but she had to be sure not to give her heart away until she knew.
Unless it was already too late.
When the door began to open, Juliet looked up hopefully until Annabelle walked through with a laugh when she caught Juliet’s expression.
“Expecting someone else?”
Juliet flushed hotly as she looked to see if her clothing was still piled on the floor, surprised to find that, instead, it was hanging over the chair in front of the vanity. Xander was still taking care of her, it seemed.
A Jewel for the Taking: Thieves of Desire Book 2 Page 10