Season for Temptation

by Theresa Romain

  She began to feel antsy again, so she got up and began to pace around the room. Despite her preoccupation, she was curious about James’s house. Had he put anything of himself into it, as he was beginning to at Nicholls?

  She hoped not, actually. It was so bland. The paper was plain, the furniture of good quality but without color, and a bit out of date in its mahogany heaviness and formal arrangement against the walls. It was an impersonal, humorless room. The only sign of character was the positive riot of books and newspapers on a few side tables. Curious about James’s taste in reading, Julia picked up a volume and opened it to the title page.

  Mansfield Park, volume 1. A copy of the book he had given Louisa when he first began to court her last season.

  She felt a twist of sadness in her chest. Just then, she heard the door open and James’s footsteps enter.

  “I don’t like this room,” she said without turning around.

  “Neither do I,” said the familiar voice, without missing a beat. “But then again, this isn’t really my house.”

  She turned in surprise to look at him, and he continued, “By the way, hello to you. I can’t say I think much of your new greeting style.”

  She ignored this last statement. “What do you mean, this isn’t your house?”

  “I mean, it’s a rented house, and rented furniture,” James replied. “I didn’t choose any of it, but it suffices for now. I live here when I am in town, but that’s very little. Someday when Nicholls is completely restored, I flatter myself that you and your family will be able to walk into a room without telling me how much you hate it. Although,” he added, his face pensive, “your aunt may never come to that point, considering her reaction on first seeing the place.”

  Julia goggled at him. He looked untroubled, and he was talking about her family as if everything were normal. Had he not read the letters yet?

  James stared her right back in the eye and cocked a skeptical eyebrow at her. “Not that I think you came to talk about interior design. What did you come for? I have to admit, I am surprised to see you after the very interesting set of letters I received from your household this morning. As a friend.” He laid heavy stress on the last few words, then folded his arms, looking at her expectantly.

  Ah. So he had read the letters. She scanned his face intently for a hint of his feelings, but his expression was shuttered and unreadable.

  Her nervousness was back again in full force, and she twisted her gloved fingers together as she searched for words. “I . . . I just . . . there was something I wanted to talk to you about,” she said lamely.

  He continued to stare at her, arms folded, eyebrow raised.

  Julia squirmed under the chill of his gaze, then blurted, “Sir Stephen asked me to marry him, and I told him no, but then he asked if he could still hope and it seemed unkind to insist, and I just wanted him to leave me alone, so I said he could. But I don’t want him to hold on to any hope, and I don’t want him to propose again. And I can’t tell my aunt because she’ll be so angry, and I can’t talk about this with Louisa, especially not today, and I really needed to talk to someone because I’m not sure if I did the right thing.”

  James’s eyebrow lifted even higher. “Not sure if you did the right thing? By saying no, you mean?”

  She was getting tired of this haughty nonsense. “No, you ass,” she replied, and was pleased to see his cold expression crack into one of shock. “Of course I’m sure I was right to say no. What I mean is, I don’t know if I did right by leaving him with any hope. Because really, I will never want to marry him. Only it’s the first proposal I ever received, and I don’t know how these things are done. How does one make a gentleman understand that one’s response is irrevocable?”

  James seemed not to have heard her explanation. He was still reeling and gaping at her. “What on earth did you call me?”

  “Um, nothing.” Julia felt her face growing hot with embarrassment. “I didn’t call you anything. I just, um, explained the situation and why I had come, and why I was feeling, um, a bit at sea. But, um, I’ll be going now.” She sidled toward the door.

  “Not so fast.” In a flash, he darted a hand out and caught her arm in a gentle grasp. She looked up at him, worried, then to her relief noticed that he was smiling.

  An answering smile spread over her own face, and then they both started to chuckle. Her very heart seemed to warm, and she wanted desperately to hold him. She even began to reach for him with her free arm.

  So when he dropped her arm from his grasp, still shaking his head with laughter, she felt lonely. He was right there, but so far away. Why had she come? What could he possibly tell her that would help? What could either of them do now?

  “Sit down,” he said, still chuckling. With a graceful bow, he directed her toward a very hard horsehair chair, and he sat on another facing her that looked just as uncomfortable.

  He shook his head again. “That’s my Julia. Two minutes in my house, and she tells me she hates it and calls me an ass.” He started laughing once more.

  “That’s not what I meant,” she tried to explain, but she didn’t feel the need to justify herself too much. He had read the letters, and yet he laughed with her. Maybe he had been angry, but he was laughing now and he had called her his Julia. His.

  Her feeling of isolation eroded a little, and she relaxed. As much as she possibly could relax in such a cursedly hard chair, that is.

  “So.” James slapped his hands against his knees. “The man finally came up to scratch, and you said no.”

  “Yes,” she replied. “I had to.”

  She searched his face, looking for some sign of ardor or excitement, or even of acknowledgment that something significant had happened. But the familiar, loved countenance remained open and expectant.

  So she continued talking. “I know you had told me that he would be a good person to marry, but I just couldn’t say yes. But then he badgered me, and I caved in and agreed that he could still hope, which I now regret. I don’t really know what to do next. I suppose I should plan to avoid his company as much as possible so he won’t get any false hopes.”

  Now it was her turn to look at him, waiting for a reply. He puffed out all of his air, and shook his head again. “God almighty, what a ridiculous couple of days we’ve had.”

  She bristled. “What do you mean, ridiculous?”

  He must have noticed her displeasure, for he hastened to explain. “Only this: Two days ago, I was engaged and thought I would be so indefinitely. I knew my fiancée wasn’t the most enthusiastic bride-to-be, but I had no idea that she was miserable, or that her sister loved me. I wasn’t even fully aware that, over the past several months, I had fallen so jealously, crazily in love with that same sister that I would forget myself as I never had before. And that when precisely the kind and eligible gentleman I urged her to marry finally proposed, it would make me so much more jealous that I would contemplate throwing him through a window, even though she said no.”

  “Not quite no,” Julia corrected, though a beaming smile was breaking across her face.

  “True, not quite no, and not ‘no’ enough for me,” James continued. “I don’t think I’d be satisfied unless you had told the fellow you never wanted to see him again, and spat on his boots as a finale. I still want to throw him through a window.” He stood up and looked around the room. “Where’s my coat? I know where he lives. He has big windows; they’ll look positively amazing shattered to bits.”

  “Oh, stop it,” Julia said, half laughing, and put a hand on his arm. “I didn’t come to tell you to make you feel jealous. Although it is a nice bonus.”

  “Why did you come tell me then, minx?” He crouched down in front of her and took her chin in his hand. He stared intently at her, a roguish smile on his lips, his gaze hopeful.

  The yearning in his eyes unsettled her, heated her, made butterflies flit through her whole body.

  “I was so confused,” she faltered. “I knew what I wanted to say, b
ut not what I should say. And now that I’m here with you, I know what I want to say again, but not what I should say.”

  “Why not?” His clear gaze fairly burned her.

  “Well, I know it would cause a nine-days’ wonder if it became known that Louisa had jilted you,” she began.

  “It would,” he agreed, still looking at her intently.

  “And also if anyone found out that I had rejected Sir Stephen’s suit. Especially if I then took up with you,” she continued.

  “A positive scandal,” he agreed, drawing her face closer to his. The heat of his gaze was twisting her stomach into an excited knot.

  “And I know your family’s very proper, and they would be mortified to be a part of a scandal,” she added. “Especially considering what your poor sister has already been through. Not to mention they wouldn’t be all that delighted to have you throwing yourself away on an untitled girl with no more than a passable dowry.”

  “They are indeed, very proper,” he agreed, leaning forward to press soft kisses along the long line of her neck. She closed her eyes, focusing all her attention on the feel of his lips, the whisper of his breath. It warmed her through to her very core.

  She drew in a gulp of air at the quick flashes of pleasure he awoke in her, then strove to continue. “And . . . I . . . you . . . you know, we . . . um . . .”

  Her head was foggy from his kisses. Her neck began to feel so pliable, her head so heavy, that she simply had to tilt it back to allow his mouth better access.

  “Something you wanted to say?” he murmured, a laugh in his voice as he kissed his way down her neck to her collarbone and began to toy with the edge of her bodice.

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake, I can’t think straight when you do that!” Julia exclaimed.

  Obediently, James drew back and watched her patiently, still crouching in front of her chair. She felt disappointed and cold, and she impulsively held out her hands to him.

  He grabbed them at once and raised them to his lips. “You said you didn’t know what you ought to say,” he reminded her, “but you knew what you wanted to say when you came here.”

  His bright green gaze bored into her eyes, seeking the corners of her very soul.

  “Why did you come? What did you want to tell me, Julia?”

  She faltered. “I . . .” She lowered her eyes, embarrassed. She had tried so hard to be a proper town lady, and she knew a proper lady would never, never say what she wanted to say.

  “Julia,” he whispered, catching her chin again and bringing her face up to meet his eyes again. “Darling. You can tell me anything.”

  There was such hope in his eyes, and his endearment was like a kiss in itself. She drew up her courage and told him.

  “I don’t care about the scandal. I don’t care about anything else that might happen. I want you, in the way a woman wants the man she loves.”

  It was all he needed to hear. He leapt to his feet and scooped her up into his arms as if she weighed less than nothing. He kissed her fiercely and then, still carrying her, strode quickly to the door.

  “What are you doing?” she said, laughing shakily, hoping she knew the answer.

  “You said you didn’t like this room,” he replied, nudging the door open. “I think it’s time you saw my bedchamber instead.”

  Chapter 26

  In Which Julia Realizes She Hadn’t Known What to Expect, After All

  “Now this room I like,” Julia said wonderingly as James, still carrying her, booted open the door of his bedchamber and afforded her a first glance at the room.

  It at once impressed her as warm, comfortable, and masculine, with red and gold pin-striped paper on the walls and a cozy chair in the corner. The room was dominated by a rather large mahogany-framed bed, its counterpane and hangings also in muted red tones. Rather . . . passionate colors.

  She gulped despite herself. Her nervousness had returned, though now it was a pleasurable tingling of anticipation. She didn’t quite know what she had gotten herself into, but she was ready to find out.

  James set her down gently on the bed and sat on its edge next to her. “I’m very glad you like it,” he finally replied. “I tried to make this room comfortable and warm. I . . . I hope you’ll spend quite awhile here.”

  “I would like that,” she answered shyly.

  He looked sharply at her. “Julia, do you know what you’re saying? No, you can’t possibly know.”

  He stood up at once. “I need to be very clear about this,” he went on, his teeth slightly gritted. “It’s very hard to bring myself to say this considering the way I am feeling right now, but I owe it to you. If we go ahead and . . . you know . . .”

  “Couple?” Julia suggested, now enjoying his discomfort. Oddly, it seemed to be more physical than emotional discomfort, judging from the look on his face.

  He groaned at her reply. “If we make love, it will be irrevocable. You will give me a precious gift that you can never then give to any other man.”

  “I wouldn’t want to,” she assured him. “You are the only one I could ever want.”

  He groaned again. What was the man’s problem? Now she noticed, the front of his pants was bulging suspiciously.

  Her eyes widened. Of course; it made sense now. She knew how the act worked from seeing the livestock mating, but she hadn’t quite realized that people had the same type of... equipment.

  Or that the pleasure of anticipation could be so great.

  She leaned back onto the bed and arched her back slightly, instinctively. “I told you I know what I want, and it’s you. Don’t you trust me to know my own mind?” she teased.

  He yanked off his top boots, heedless of their fine craftsmanship, and tossed them into the corner of the room.

  “Throwing your boots around? Your valet will be distressed,” Julia observed, smiling.

  “Curse the man,” James replied just as cheerfully, climbing onto the bed and covering her small form with his long one. He propped himself up on his forearms and looked down into her eyes.

  “I want this more than anything,” he began. “But I have to ask again if you’re sure about this. About me.”

  “Of course,” Julia replied at once, stroking his cheek, the face she loved. “I trust you. And I want it, too.” Then she added conscientiously, “Although to be honest, I don’t really know what I’m talking about. I mean, I know the basics, since I grew up on a farm. I’ve seen animals coupling many times. And I can tell you have the same male parts, because of the way your pants are bulging.”

  He snorted with laughter and silenced her momentarily with a kiss.

  “But,” she finally managed, her lips still just a breath away from his own, “it never seemed to hold much pleasure for the females. And I feel such pleasure already.”

  James laughed again and buried his face in her hair. He kissed her ear, and said, “My ridiculous darling. This is only the beginning.”

  “It is?” she breathed wonderingly, as he continued to press kisses onto her face. She felt his hands beginning to roam her body, caressing and shaping her breasts, and she inhaled raggedly at the sudden wonder of it.

  “Yes,” he confirmed, “and I’ll thank you not to make any more comparisons between us and animals. What you’ve seen is nothing, nothing, like what happens between people who love each other. Especially not between you and me.”

  “Why especially us?” she couldn’t help asking, though her desire to speak was, admittedly, dimmed quite a bit by his long fingers, which had slid beneath the fabric of her bodice and were now stroking and toying with her nipple, driving her to distraction.

  “Because,” he answered, “of what I’m going to do to you with my tongue.”

  “Oh,” she answered, her thoughts reeling confusedly. What was he going to do? Was he going to . . .

  And then . . . “Oh.” She understood, as he tugged down the bodice of her dress to reveal her breasts and, as he had the night before, began to lick and lightly suck at her nipp
les. “Oh, that’s lovely.”

  “If you’re able to talk, it’s not lovely enough,” he growled against her pale skin.

  She hated to feel him draw his mouth away, although it was only to raise himself off her and begin searching for the fastenings of her clothes. Obligingly, she turned onto her side so he could reach the buttons at the back of her dress. She had to laugh at his fumbling inability to slide the small beads from their openings.

  “I’m not usually clumsy,” James said in his defense, a look of intense concentration on his face. “I just really want this dress off you this second. I can’t keep my hands steady.”

  Julia was, she had to admit, a bit proud of this proof of her appeal. She had made a grown man forget how to work buttons! But she savored the feeling for only a moment. She had no idea what he was going to do next, but she was as impatient for it as James seemed to be.

  Her gown loosened and lifted over her head, her slippers tossed after his boots, her stays unlaced, she soon lay before him in only her shift and silk stockings. He divested himself of his coat but remained dressed in his pantaloons and now-rumpled shirt.

  “Why are you still wearing so many clothes?” Julia asked, her voice innocent but her eyes winking at him.

  James seemed to choke, and he stared at her in what seemed like awe. Again he seemed in physical discomfort—yet he seemed almost happy about it?

  “I wasn’t sure if you were ready to see me,” he admitted. “And I felt I needed to give you one more chance to tell me to stop, if you want to.”

  “You keep asking me that,” she pondered. “Don’t you want to make love to me?”

  His only reply was a low growl of laughter as James pounced back on the bed and again covered her nowthinly-clad form with his own. He kissed her deeply and she savored the feel of his lips against hers, the tender warmth of his tongue lightly touching her own. One of his hands began to stroke her thighs, raising shivers that ran up and down her body. Yet if she shivered, why should she feel so warm?

  She didn’t realize she had spoken the words aloud until James replied teasingly, “You’re warm, you say? Then we need to take off more of your clothes.”