Love's Portrait

by Monica Burns

  “Mrs. Westgard, a moment if you please.” Devlyn took her hand in his. “I wonder if you might do me a favor.”

  “A favor?” Although she hid it well, there was cool suspicion in her voice. Devlyn seemed oblivious to it, but Morgan heard crackling as she surrounded herself with an icy layer of reserve.

  “You see, my wife doesn’t have many friends in London, and I think you and she would get along quite well.” The smile Devlyn sent her made Morgan’s stomach clench as Julia smiled back, a distinct expression of relief flitting across her face.

  “Oh…why of course. If you’ll give me your address, I’d be happy to call on her.”

  “Actually, I was thinking perhaps you might join us for supper this Friday night. I know Sophie would be delighted to have you come.”

  “Supper? Oh, I—”

  “Then you’ll come.” Devlyn paused as he waited for Julia to give way to his determination. When she nodded, he smiled. “Excellent. Shall we say seven-thirty? We’re at twelve Curzon Street.”

  The confusion on Julia’s face made it clear she wasn’t certain how she’d agreed to a dinner engagement. She looked adorable in her bewilderment, and Morgan bit back a smile as Devlyn kissed her hand then held the office door open for her. Julia hesitated for a brief moment as if she was going to say something then with a slight shake of her head she left the office.

  As the door closed behind her, Devlyn turned around and grinned. “I believe you’re expected at our house for dinner this Friday night as well.”

  Returning his friend’s smile, he nodded his head. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

  ∫

  The hackney cab rolled to a halt in front of twelve Curzon Street. Exiting the small carriage, Julia climbed the steps of the house and rapped on the door with the brass knocker. A moment later, a short, elderly man opened the door and invited her inside. The man took her shawl and beaded bag from her just as a toddler charged across the hall with a loud laugh. A woman followed him at half a run.

  “Master Spencer Blackwell, come back here this instant.” Although her words were stern, there was the distinct sound of laughter in the woman’s voice. With a quick maneuver, the woman caught up with the boy and scooped him up into her arms. Giggling with enthusiasm, the boy squirmed in his mother’s arms as she pecked his cheek in a quick kiss and ordered him to be still.

  As if suddenly realizing there was a guest in her foyer the woman turned to face Julia. A frazzled smile wreathing her handsome features, she sent the butler a beseeching look. “I’m terribly sorry. Fischer, would you mind taking Spencer up to Nanny? I’ll take care of Mrs. Westgard.”

  The butler nodded and smiled as he took the boy into his arms and headed up the stairway. Their conversation was indiscernible, but it was obvious the boy adored the older man from the way the youngster laid his head on the butler’s shoulder. Turning toward her, the woman smiled and stretched out her hand to Julia.

  “Please forgive me. It is Mrs. Westgard, isn’t it?”

  Julia nodded as the woman shook her hand then drew her into a large salon. “I’m afraid perhaps I’m a little early, Lady Devlyn.”

  “No, you’re right on time. And please, we’re quite informal here. Do call me Sophie.” The pleasant expression on Lady Devlyn’s face drew her to Julia, and returning the woman’s smile she nodded.

  “All right, but you must agree to call me Julia.”

  “Julia. What a lovely name.”

  “I quite agree.”

  The deep, velvety sound of Morgan’s voice made Julia go rigid. Slowly she turned her head and met his enigmatic gaze. Why the sight of him was so unexpected, she really didn’t know. She should have known he would be here for supper since he and Lord Devlyn were friends.

  “St. Claire.”

  With a nod in his direction, she managed to keep her voice steady as she greeted him, barely noticing that Lord Devlyn had entered the salon behind Morgan. Tension and heat tightened the muscles below her belly as she studied him for a brief moment before looking away. Just looking at the man was a dangerous pastime. Worse, she found it was impossible to remain unaffected by the raw force of his personality even from across the room.

  Every time she saw him, her need for him slowly eroded the slippery slope she stood on. Soon she’d have to come to a decision where he was concerned. Not only did she want his kiss and touch, she wanted one more chance to experience the ecstasy of that single night they’d spent in each other’s arms. The knowledge didn’t really surprise her, but the intensity of her craving for him did. Determined not to reveal how vulnerable she was to his presence, she turned back to Lady Devlyn.

  “My la—” She stopped at the pleasant look of discouragement on Sophie’s face and smiled. “Sophie. How old is your little boy.”

  “Spencer will be four in about six months, although he seems far older than that sometimes.”

  A deep laugh poured out of Lord Devlyn’s throat as he moved to his wife’s side. Pressing a kiss to her cheek, he grinned. “He’s his mother’s son—impudent and well aware that he has the entire staff wrapped around his finger.”

  “Supper will be ready shortly, but until then we should be comfortable.” With a gesture toward the couches separated by an oval coffee table, Sophie sank down onto one of the sofas. Julia followed suit and sat down across from her hostess. An instant later, her skin grew hot as Morgan joined her on the love seat. Inhaling a deep breath, she trembled at how close he was.

  Perched on the edge of her seat, her mouth tightened with annoyance as she heard his low chuckle. Determined to ignore him, she watched Lord Devlyn take his wife’s hand and hold it in his in a tender gesture. They were the image of a happily married couple. A streak of envy flashed through her. Quickly she killed the emotion. Marriage was out of the question for her. Leaning forward slightly, she smiled.

  “Lord Devlyn tells me you’ve only recently moved into this house.”

  “Yes, it’s been a little more than two months now. We haven’t been frequent visitors to town, but with this new venture Quentin is starting, we needed a place to stay and entertain.”

  Devlyn leaned toward his wife with a wicked grin. “Admit it, my love, you simply want to drag me to the blasted opera. Although, I confess there is one opera I have quite pleasurable memories of.”

  A delicate blush crept over Sophie’s cheeks, and once more, Julia found herself envying the affectionate rapport between the couple. Is this what the words happily married meant? This give and take between a husband and wife. She darted a glance at the man beside her. Morgan’s eyes met hers in a quiet look of assessment. The sudden hunger darkening his gaze sent a shudder of longing through her.

  Had he arranged this supper invitation in hopes that he’d persuade her to marry him? If he had, he’d wasted his time. Still, she couldn’t help wondering what life would be like if she were to marry him? The thought made her tug her gaze away from him as she struggled to cope with the sharp desire to consider his proposal. A small chill streaked across her skin at how strong the urge to give in to him was.

  From the salon doorway, a young maid announced dinner, and Julia allowed a soft sigh of relief to part her lips as she quickly stood up. Seconds later, her relief vanished as Morgan rose to his feet to stand next to her. A wave of heat washed over her skin at his close proximity, while her heart pounded wildly in her chest. She offered up a small prayer that they weren’t alone. If they had been, she was certain she would have done exactly as he’d told her the other day. She would have asked him to kiss her. Julia trembled slightly and glanced up at Morgan. His eyes narrowed as if he could read her mind, and her mouth went dry as she met his gaze. Resisting temptation was proving to be far more difficult than she’d ever thought possible.

  ∫

  Ever since Julia had learned Morgan had arranged to take her home after supper, her body had been stiff with irritation. The pleasant manner with which she’d said goodbye to Devlyn and Sophie was in direct contrast to t
he frosty silence in the carriage. She’d even refused his hand climbing into his carriage.

  The interior of the vehicle created an intimacy he liked, but it was clear Julia didn’t feel the same way. She’d twisted her body away from him so the only thing brushing against his legs was the taffeta of her green silk dress. The carriage rocked forward, and the only sound inside the vehicle was that of the horse’s hooves against the cobblestone street.

  Julia stared out the window, and it was impossible to imagine what she might be thinking. The tension between them could have been kindling it was so brittle, and he was certain of one thing. She was far from happy with him at the moment. He released a quiet sigh of frustration. Somehow, he had to convince her that marriage wasn’t a prison, but a chance for immeasurable happiness.

  His friends’ happy marriage was the perfect example of what he was certain he and Julia could have. Until just recently, he’d always thought Devlyn’s and Sophie’s happiness was something to envy. He’d never dreamed such happiness might be within his grasp until he met Julia.

  All evening, he’d watched her studying the other couple when she thought no one was watching, and it had given him hope that she’d been thinking they could be just as happy together as Sophie and Devlyn. Studying her profile, he cleared his throat.

  “Did you enjoy yourself this evening?”

  “Yes.” She didn’t look at him as she spoke. “I like Sophie a great deal.”

  “I could tell she liked you as well.” When she didn’t respond, his jaw muscles tightened with frustration. Stubborn as always, she refused to make things easy between them.

  “Their marriage is a happy one. I’ve always thought them well suited for one another.” At his comment, she slowly turned to look him in the eye.

  “They are well suited, unlike others.”

  “If by that you think we’re ill-suited for one another then you’re wrong. We belong together. You’re just too obstinate to see it.” He folded his arms across his chest to keep from reaching out and shaking her.

  “And you’re not stubborn?” She sniffed with heated sarcasm. “You continue to tout this idea that marriage is a suitable state for the two of us, when I know it would be anything but.”

  “Tell me why you think that.”

  “Because…because if I marry you, the law gives you complete control over me,” she snapped. “And I refuse to let that happen.”

  “If it’s your money you’re worried about, I’m perfectly willing to sign a document that prevents me for having access to any of your finances.” He saw her jerk at his statement before she shook her head and looked out the window.

  “My finances are not what I’m talking about,” she said softly. “The moment I married you, I’d be nothing more than your property. An object you could do with as you like.”

  “Christ Jesus,” he rasped. “I’m not like Westgard, Julia. Hurting you would be the last thing I’d ever want to do. I love you.”

  “And I…I know that.”

  The way she stumbled over her words made his heart crash violently into his chest. She’d almost admitted she loved him before she caught herself. He was certain of it. In a swift move, he reached out and pulled her into his lap. In the dim light, he saw her lips part in surprise.

  “Say it, Julia. Tell me you love me.” His harsh command made her shake her head in denial.

  “You’re wrong,” she said breathlessly, her body rigid against his. “And even if you weren’t, it wouldn’t change my mind about marrying you or anyone else.”

  Morgan bowed his head to smell the soft fragrance of her skin. As much as he desired her, he was equally happy just being near her. No matter how old they grew, Morgan knew that would never change. She was as important to him as the air he breathed. But he also loved touching her, tasting her. He brushed his mouth across her bare shoulder. The quick breath she dragged into her lungs pleased him. He liked knowing that he had the same effect on her that she had on him.

  Lifting his head, he covered her mouth with his in a passionate kiss while his hand cupped the back of her neck and pulled her tight against him. Beneath his caress, she grazed his lips with the tip of her tongue. The erotic touch pulled a deep groan from him, and a second later, he was tasting the inside of her mouth.

  God, he wanted to shut out the world until she surrendered to him completely. The taste of sweet wine on her tongue blended with the peaches they’d had for desert filling his mouth with delicious nectar. His thumb found the pulse fluttering frantically at the side of her neck. It beat an erotic tattoo against the pad of his finger.

  In his trousers, his erection jutted up toward his stomach with a needy throb. The soft mewl escaping her throat nearly undid him completely. Christ Jesus, but the woman had him wrapped around a barrel. She could ask him for anything at the moment and he’d give it to her.

  Deepening their kiss, he struggled to keep from lifting her dress and stroking her with his fingers. There was no doubt she’d be wet with liquid heat. His cock jumped at the thought while his ballocks drew up tight against his groin. Damn, he didn’t want her like this. He wanted her to come to him of her own choosing. But God help him, he didn’t think he had the strength to refuse what she was willing to give him right now.

  His hands slid across her bare skin to where her gown hugged the edge of her shoulder. Beneath his touch, she trembled. Her mouth danced with his tongue for a moment longer before she broke away from his kiss. Agitation marked her movements as she hastily unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it out of his trousers with a sharp tug.

  ∫

  The moment her hands touched the hot flesh of his chest, the desire building inside her belly rushed to the apex of her thighs in a taut explosion of fiery need. Eager to taste him, she pressed her mouth to his hard torso. Muscles rippled against her lips as he leaned back into the carriage’s leather cushions with a quiet groan.

  The sound gave her a sense of power, and she loved knowing how much her touch pleased him. Slowly and methodically, she brushed his skin with kisses until her tongue flicked out to circle his nipple. Another low rumble echoed in his chest, the vibration teasing her lips as she savored the tangy taste of him.

  Sweet heaven, she’d missed him. Missed this. It had been too long since she’d been in his arms. And she needed him. Wanted him inside her, filling her, throbbing against her tautness until they both caught fire and exploded at the same instant. Her senses swimming with heat and need, she nipped at the side of his neck with her teeth as her hand slid down to stroke the hard length of him pressing into her thigh.

  He jumped as her touch. Through the material of his trousers, he was hot and harder than she remembered. He wanted her. Jubilant at the knowledge, she applied a gentle pressure to him, and he groaned deeply. Tonight, she was willing to give in to her passion. Tomorrow, she’d face the consequences of her actions.

  Strong fingers captured her chin, and he took her mouth again in a mind-searing kiss. Lost to the sensations flooding her senses, her fingers spiked through his hair as she returned his kiss with all the passion exploding inside her. A warm hand stroked her bare throat down to the valley between her breasts.

  A shudder sped through her as his hand glided down over her breast. Her rigid nipples scraped with agonizing sensitivity against her undergarments at the touch. Whimpering with the need for more, her fingers sought the buttons of his trousers as her hunger for him spiraled out of control. Desire flooded her body and touching him was all that mattered.

  With a suddenness that jerked her out of her aroused state, Morgan’s large hands encircled her wrist like a vise and returned her to the seat opposite him. Her breathing ragged, she looked into his eyes in bewilderment. What was wrong with him? He’d provoked this intense encounter. Why had he pushed her away? The dark hunger in his eyes made her reach out to touch his cheek. He caught her wrist and pushed her hand aside with a harsh shake of his head.

  “Not like this, Julia,” he rasped as he buttoned hi
s shirt in an unsteady fashion.

  “I…I don’t understand.” Bemused by his abrupt rejection, she shook her head. “You kissed me. I…thought you…”

  “I do want you, Julia. I want you more than you know.” Shoving his shirt back into his trousers, he grimaced. “But you have to come to me of your own free will.”

  “I just offered myself to you, and you reject me simply to demand that I come to you,” she said fiercely.

  “You didn’t offer, Julia. You gave into desire.” His voice was implacable as he watched her with his narrowed gaze.

  “I can assure you, St. Claire, if I had not wanted to be seduced, you would not have found me so willing,” she bit out through clenched teeth.

  “And that’s the problem Julia. I want you to be with me by choice, not because I seduced you.” The sigh he released was one of great weariness, and her heart slammed against her chest at the sound. “If you care for me, you’ll come to me at a time of your choosing. Completely free of any enticement from me.”

  “What you mean is that I have to bow to your will and beg you to take me into your bed.”

  “No. I’m asking for more than that. I know how important your independence is to you, but I want to know you’re going to be there when I come home at night.”

  “But you don’t have a home—you have rooms in a hotel,” she said with a sniff of derision.

  “Not any longer. I’ve bought a house. A house that needs a woman’s touch. I want that woman to be you.”

  The words echoed like gunfire inside the carriage. She wasn’t quite certain she’d heard him correctly, and yet she knew she had. For a long moment, she simply absorbed his news. He’d bought a house. Morgan St. Claire—confirmed bachelor, unmitigated womanizer—had bought a house.

  He was up to something. She didn’t know what, but he was scheming to get his own way. First, he’d proposed marriage and now a house. There had to be some ulterior motive for his behavior. What did he want? Meeting his dark gaze from across the carriage, a tremor went through her. The open hunger and longing in his eyes did more than confuse her. It frightened her.