Once Upon a True Love's Kiss

by Julie Johnstone

  The way he rolled her name off his tongue made her toes curl in her slippers. She pressed her hands to her cheeks to ward off the blush already heating her skin. "You mustn't call a lady by her first name, unless given leave."

  "But you gave me permission, remember?"

  "Yes, of course." Had he moved nearer to her? She blinked, her thoughts feeling rather fuzzy. "I am just reminding you."

  He tapped his temple. "I don't forget things. I have an excellent memory."

  "Do you? What do you remember of our dance last night?" She felt giddy playing this part—happy. Heavens, but she'd not been happy in so long.

  "I remember you smell of lavender and have skin like the finest silk. You tilt your head to the right when wary, and you feel other people's pain deeply. Your eyes shimmer with unshed tears when one accidentally reveals a weakness."

  Were they still playacting? It seemed as if he were actually speaking of things he thought about her. "That's an awful lot you learned during our dance, Mr. Wolverton."

  "Nash, remember?" He grasped a lock of her hair and wound it around his fingers.

  "You shouldn't do that," she whispered, unable to make her voice come out with more conviction.

  "I shouldn't?" His question held a note of mischievousness.

  She shook her head. "It's not proper to touch a lady until there is an agreement of some sort, like a betrothal."

  He smiled slowly. "Do you mean to honestly tell me no lady of the ton wishes to be touched by the man she admires unless there is a betrothal agreement?"

  "No lady looking for a husband," she replied, her cheeks burning when she realized what she had just uttered aloud.

  "Well, I'm looking for a wife," he said in a husky voice. "Does that count?"

  She felt unable to speak as his hand came to her face and grazed down the right side before he traced the pad of his thumb over her lips. She should protest. She should knock his hand away. Most definitely she should tell him he could not do that when calling on ladies he wanted to marry for they might think he was a scoundrel—deliciously, sinfully rakish and trying to seduce them, not marry them. Heavens, but it was hot outside. She barely resisted the urge to fan herself.

  He slid his hands to her shoulders, then grazed his fingers teasingly over her collarbone to linger at the hollow, pulsing space in the middle. His gaze flicked to hers and the caress of it almost made her groan. His finger pressed gently against the beat of her heart that pulsed against her skin. "What are you looking for, Julianna?"

  Her thoughts spun in her head as her body tingled. Being so near to him made it very hard to think properly. She was not looking for a husband, but she wasn't yet looking for a lover, and even if she were, she should not look at him. Still, she was staring at him—his gaze understanding, compelling, and beckoning.

  "I'm so confused," she mumbled, only realizing she'd voiced her thoughts aloud when a devilish smile graced his lips.

  His face came a hairbreadth from hers as his hands twined through her hair, and his fingers spread over the base of her skull. "Then by all means let me help you understand what you're feeling."

  The fire that lit his eyes alarmed and thrilled her at once. She opened her mouth to protest, but as she did, his mouth slanted over hers, and this time the kiss held nothing gentle and everything demanding, illicit, and drugging. His hot, slick tongue slid over hers and around it. Instead of retreating, as she should have, she pressed closer and touched her tongue with his. Tiny shivers raced over her skin leaving every part of her sensitive, so that when his chest crushed against hers, her body ached with the contact and friction.

  She threaded her hands into his hair and tugged him closer, wanting to lose herself in him. His hands crested her shoulders, kneading and massaging. They trailed lower, over the curves of her breasts. His fingers stroked the material over her taut nipples, and the little control she clung to slipped. She threw her head back and moaned. Suddenly, his mouth suckled her neck as a growl emanated from him.

  What he was doing with his mouth… Well, she'd never experienced such a thing. He sucked and pulled in long, warm strokes. She could not wrench her senses together under his assault.

  His tongue flicked gently over the lobe of her ear.

  "Julianna, tell me you want me as much as I want you."

  Oh dear heaven, she did, but she should not. She had to form a coherent sentence. Had to. "You must have a wife."

  He stilled, and his hands cupped either side of her face, his heart thumping against her. "You could fill that position."

  The primal need in his voice was a raw, rough sound she had long ago dreamed of hearing from a man's lips. About her. To her. Pleading for her. "I don't want a husband."

  "Not yet," he growled and started to kiss her again, silencing her argument. She pressed her hand against his chest, aware she did not want to mislead him.

  "Nash—"

  "Papa!"

  The call of his daughter came from somewhere nearby and sent Julianna scrambling to her feet just as the little girl rounded the corner, her cheeks rosy and eyes sparkling.

  "Papa," she squealed and dashed toward Nash's legs. She hugged him ferociously and then surprised Julianna by throwing herself at Julianna's legs and squeezing, too. "Grandmother says it's surely time for my lessons and that I was to come find you, Lady Barrows."

  Julianna's embarrassment was forgotten momentarily under a tide of warm feelings for the sweet child staring up at her. "Yes, my dear, it surely is time for your lesson."

  The child slipped her hand into Julianna's. "What will you teach me today?"

  Julianna thought quickly. She needed to put space between her and Nash and keep it firmly there for the rest of the day, until she was sure she would not forget herself around him again. "Today I will teach you how to properly eat scones and cakes and drink tea. How does that sound?"

  "Wonderful," the child crooned. "Shall Papa learn with us?"

  "I've learned all I need to today," he said in the most roguish voice. A blush seared Julianna's cheeks, and she forced herself to meet his gaze. A knowing smile played at his lips.

  "I'll expect you tomorrow at the same time to continue our lesson."

  She nodded. Somehow, she had to make him understand that the particular lesson they had today could not happen again, no matter how much she suddenly longed for it. He had made it clear he was looking for a wife, and she was deeply honored he would consider her, but she could never go down that road again, no matter how much her body yearned for him.

  After Forever: Chapter Eight

  NASH WOKE UP THE NEXT MORNING in a splendid mood. Yesterday's encounter with Julianna had proven she desired him just as much as he desired her, and he was certain that with the right sort of coaxing he could get her to see they could have a wonderful marriage. He hummed as he made his way to the nursery to have his morning visit with Maggie. A smile played at his lips as he thought of the way Maggie had gushed during story time last night about Julianna. The child already loved her.

  He rounded the corner to the nursery and frowned at the hushed whispers that greeted him and the sight of Julianna in his daughter's nursery. Not that he minded her being there, but he'd not expected her for another hour. Inside the nursery, a small, lumpy form appeared curled under the coverlet. It was far too late in the morning for Maggie to still be in bed. His heart jerked in his chest and fear clogged his throat.

  "What is it?" he demanded, surging into the room.

  At once, both Julianna and Esther hushed him while Esther motioned toward the bed. "Lower your voice, so you don't wake her."

  His heart pounded viciously. "Is she sick?"

  "She's got the sniffles and feels a little warm. Blessed child has a cough like a dog's bark. I sent for Lady Barrows because I wanted a second opinion on whether I should send for the physician."

  He glanced at Julianna. She shook her head. "I don't think so. Liza has had a similar cough before, but I suggest we watch her."

 
; "We?"

  "Certainly." Julianna peeled her gloves off. "I know firsthand how anxious having a loved one sick can make you. I'll be happy to stay for the day. I'll send word to my cook that I'll be here for a good portion of the afternoon, and she can watch over Liza."

  "All right," Nash agreed.

  Esther patted him on the shoulder. "Why don't you go work? I'll come fetch you if there is any change. No point in all of us watching her sleep."

  Nash shook his head. "I couldn't work now if I wanted to. I'm too worried."

  JULIANNA'S HEART SQUEEZED AT the concern that made Nash's voice tremble. She understood perfectly how he felt.

  "Well," Esther said, "I'll go speak to Cook about making some broth for her, and I'll see that a note is sent to your cook, Lady Barrows. I'll be back in a bit."

  As she departed, Julianna followed Nash to Maggie's bedside. She watched as he knelt beside his daughter and, with the utmost care, smoothed her hair back from her forehead. He stilled and frowned. Motioning Julianna closer, he whispered, "She feels too warm to me."

  With a quick survey of the room, Julianna located the washbasin. "Why don't we sponge her with cool water?" she offered in a low voice. That's what the physician had advised when Henry's fever was raging and he'd rambled incoherently, but Julianna didn't want to mention Henry for fear that Nash would jump to the conclusion that his daughter's illness would end the same way. Her chest tightened with the memory.

  Nash nodded and moved to get the basin as Julianna settled by Maggie's bed. She leaned over, and the child's eyes suddenly fluttered open and a small smile came to her face. "Is it time for my lesson?"

  "Not just yet, dear," Julianna whispered soothingly. "You've a slight fever. We are going to cool you."

  "All right," the child mumbled groggily, her voice raspy from coughing.

  Julianna and Nash worked in silence for a bit, Nash dipping and wringing the rag and Julianna patting it gently against Maggie's head. After a while, Maggie's breath became even, though a little wheezy, making it clear she was asleep. "I think we should let her rest," Julianna said, stretching her arms over her head.

  Nash's gaze held hers for moment before he spoke. "I can't imagine how awful it was for you when your husband was dying," he whispered. "I feel terrified for Maggie, even though I'm sure she will recover quickly."

  Julianna stilled at the mention of Henry. Memories of that dark time and her agony filled her. "I cannot talk about it."

  The look of hurt that crossed his face made her wince. She didn't want to wound him. She didn't want either of them to be in a position to be injured. "I'm sorry." Instinctively, she grabbed his hand. "I don't want to talk about it because I don't want to relive the pain. I want to forget. To remember how awful I felt is to risk becoming lost in the misery again, and I cannot be miserable no matter how much I want to be. I have to think of Liza, and I have to be happy for her. Can you understand?"

  "I can." A strange glint filled his gaze. "I want to make you happy, Julianna."

  A sharp yearning washed over her and made her heart falter. She tugged her hand away. What was wrong with her? She did not want to allow this man into her heart, yet he was slipping in like water sliding between crevices. This foolishness had to stop. "You mustn't concern yourself with my happiness, Nash. You need to focus on finding a lady who wants to be a wife and making her happy."

  "So you don't ever want to marry again?"

  "I don't ever want to be in love again. For me they are one and the same. To love is to open oneself up for pain."

  "Without sorrow, Julianna, one cannot experience joy."

  She stiffened. "I'll settle for mild happiness. That way I'll avoid misery."

  When he frowned, she looked away. She hadn't meant to reveal so much of herself; it had all just slipped out. Her cracks were evidently widening. Embarrassed, she placed a hand on Maggie's forehead and concentrated on her. "She feels much cooler now. I'm going to go home and spend some time with Liza. I'll check back in on you. Once Maggie is better, we can resume our lessons."

  From here on out, she was going to plan them with Esther around to avoid finding herself suddenly in his arms once again. She had a feeling he was determined to have her, one way or the other, and she worried that if she gave him her body, her heart would go with it, whether she wanted it to or not.

  NASH'S CERTAINTY THAT JULIANNA was the perfect lady to be his wife grew with every day that passed. After she assisted in nursing Maggie back to health, she committed herself with an almost zealousness to helping Maggie become the picture of a little lady of the ton. By midway through the second week, Maggie knew more about the rules of the ton and what was expected of her than Nash did, but Nash understood what he had to do with regard to Julianna. She had said she did not want to be in love again, not exactly that she didn't want to marry once more. If he could soften her into marrying him, maybe someday she would grow to love him once she gave him the chance, and if not, he would at least have her passion.

  With Maggie and Esther gone to London for the last three days, and Julianna having been at her home tending to Liza, who'd gotten the same sickness as Maggie, he'd had a good many hours to think how to go about really courting Julianna. Now that Liza was feeling better, Julianna thought she was coming here tonight to resume his instruction with a lesson on proper etiquette at dinner. But he planned to hopefully teach her how to really let down her guard. Week after next was the Primwitty ball, and he intended to announce his and Julianna's betrothal there.

  A scratch came at his study door, followed by Reed announcing that Julianna had arrived.

  Nash set down his untouched glass of whiskey and headed for the main entrance hall to greet her. Halfway there, he met her coming down the corridor. She looked like the picture of temptation wrapped in a wine-colored silk gown with her hair unbound and trailing over her shoulders. Lace covered her chest where the gown dipped low, but he knew from the memory singed in his mind what lay underneath the fichu.

  He stopped in front of her and offered a bow. When he came up, he was pleased to see her gaze clinging to him. "I was coming to greet you," he said.

  "No need," she said, glancing around while fidgeting with her dress.

  "Are you nervous to be alone with me?" he teased.

  Julianna narrowed her eyes. "Certainly not."

  Her voice trembled as she spoke, and he had to fight a smile. Even when flustered, she had plenty of backbone. "Excellent." He took her hand and tucked it firmly in the crook of his elbow before she ran away from him. She was looking more nervous by the second, nibbling on her lip and scanning the area around him.

  He led her to the dining room where he had instructed his staff to set the table so that he and Julianna were sitting side by side. After the task was complete, he'd told them, except for the cook, to stay in their rooms for the night because he wanted privacy.

  Julianna glanced at the place settings next to each other on one side of the table and then at him. "It's not customary for two people dining together to sit next to each other. Across makes for better conversation."

  But next to each other made it much easier to accidentally brush her leg, arm, and hand and for her to have the opportunity to accidentally do the same to him. Every time they touched, he felt it deep within his bones. Hopefully she did to and would eventually respond to him.

  He cleared his throat. "I know, but this way seemed best, so I wouldn't be straining to hear all of your instructions."

  She smirked but sat in the seat he pulled out for her and settled herself. Once he sat, she spoke. "I didn't realize you had a hearing problem."

  He almost spit out the drink of wine he had just taken. Swallowing, he set down his glass and focused on her. A smile played at her lovely lips, and her eyes twinkled.

  "I try not to think about it."

  "Understandable," she said, her words dripping with light sarcasm. After taking a sip of her wine, she glanced around the room. "Where are all of the servants?"
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br />   "I dismissed them for the night. I prefer not to be gawked at while I'm being instructed on how to act like a trained monkey."

  Her hand came to his arm and she squeezed gently. "There's no need to be embarrassed, but I understand."

  He should probably feel guilty about misleading her and allowing her to think he gave a damn about what anyone thought, but he was enjoying her hand on his arm, even if only there out of sympathy. "Shall I ring for cook to serve us, and then you can start the instructions?"

  Julianna nodded, and moments later, they were served. With each course she told him exactly how to act, things he must and must not do, which utensil to use, and when and what sort of conversation would be appropriate to have with whatever lady was seated next to him. He allowed her to talk without interruption. The sound of her gentle, sweet voice made him feel peaceful and oddly cared for which was absurd since she was only doing her job. But it was the way she did it with such kindness and tenderness, paying the utmost attention not to hurt his feelings and stopping every so often to compliment him.

  When she paused in her instruction, he seized the opportunity to begin his own lessons. The ones meant to open her heart. He grasped his glass and purposely took a long gulp of the wine.

  Julianna frowned. "You mustn't gulp. Even gentleman should not drink like a dog."

  "I'm failing miserably at my obedience training, aren't I?" He allowed his gaze to linger on her lips. His reward was her deep blush, followed by her pink tongue darting out to lick first her upper and then lower lip.

  "Yes, you do seem rather disobedient," she teased. "Now watch carefully and drink like this." Her lips pressed against the lower rim of the wine-glass, and he almost groaned, imagining those lips pressed against him in the places that were throbbing with need.

  He cocked his head and forced himself to feign keen observance of what she was trying to show him. It was impossible not to fixate on her kissable mouth, or the run of her neck, or her sparkling eyes. When she was done, he nodded and moved a bit closer so that his leg brushed against hers. "Once more, please, so I can be sure I have it correct."