Her body temperature, already elevated from his earlier scrutiny, climbed another degree. She had forgotten how tall he was, almost a foot taller than she. She had to tip her head back to meet that mesmerizing smile of his. When she did, her heart took another leap.
Good lord, he was beautiful.
He stood so close that she could smell sandalwood soap and a hint of some musky, masculine cologne. She blinked. This would not do. Betrothed or not, they were not married and they were unchaperoned, for she had refused a companion for this private affair.
She retreated a few steps, putting distance between them. “I will start.”
He looked surprised and then amused. “You always did like to go first.”
The comment, delivered with warm amusement, further disconcerted her. He really was not behaving like himself. “Yes, well, they do say ladies first.”
He grinned. “So they do.”
She paused at his manner. Charming and impatient were Edmund’s usual postures toward her, confounding traits, as they compelled or repelled her depending on which mood she confronted at the time. She was not as familiar with this Edmund and hoped this would not complicate matters. However, things needed to be said and as her damn duke had the uncanny habit of disappearing for long periods of time, she was determined to seize the moment. Enough time had been lost.
“You do know that my father is no longer grieving the loss of my mother, Jonathan has turned a robust five, and Emily is doing much, much better, so I think—”
“I’m glad.”
At his interruption, she paused.
“I’m glad to hear about your father and Emily. I didn’t know her fiancé, but grieving over the loss of a loved one is always a difficult journey.”
She frowned. Difficult? The word was too tame a description for her sister’s bedridden breakdown after Jason’s death at Waterloo. However, that was so like Edmund. He had never liked to discuss Emily’s “illness,” as he referred to it. Back on familiar footing, she continued. “Yes, well, now that my family’s concerns and my obligations have lightened, I think we are finally…” She paused to swallow, her words caught in her throat. “What I mean to say is…” She trailed off, and heat climbed her neck.
She might have acted impetuously upon hearing Edmund was in town. She should have taken time to collect her thoughts and prepare a proper speech. Usually the man took the lead in such matters, so she was at a loss as to how to proceed. And her damn duke appeared to have no intentions of rescuing her.
He watched her with a slightly amused expression on his handsome features, looking as if he enjoyed her discomfiture. Maybe she should have left this meeting to her father. She gritted her teeth. No, because by the time he got around to addressing the matter, she would need that silver-tipped cane to assist her to hobble to the altar.
She began to pace as she groped for a proper lead-in, well aware of Edmund’s eyes trailing her, not making matters easy for her. “I just thought it is only reasonable that after so many years of waiting, we now—”
“Waiting? I’m not sure I—”
She stopped and frowned at his furrowed brow. Edmund was not obtuse, so she couldn’t fathom what he gained in pretending to be so. Irritation spiked within her. “For goodness sake, it’s been five years! Bets are being wagered at White’s as we speak. I think it’s time.”
“Time?” He echoed. Suddenly his eyes widened and he retreated a step. “I’m beginning to understand.” He lifted his hand to rub his neck, a tinge of color spotting his cheeks.
Julia’s lips parted at the unusual reaction.
What was wrong with the man?
A rueful smile curved his lips. “However, there is something I need to clarify before you continue.” He held up his hands. “You see, I’m not who—”
“No, it’s not necessary,” she broke in, cursing her earlier outburst and seeking to avoid the tired explanations over what the two of them had long understood. “I have always appreciated and been grateful for your patience and discretion while my family worked through these travails. But it’s our time now. I want to honor the betrothal contract. I couldn’t before, but now I can. I—”
“Julia, wait, stop! I do need to explain—”
“You don’t need to explain anything to me.” Before her flagging courage abandoned her, she stepped closer to him, lifted her chin, and took a deep breath, gazing straight into his eyes. “All I need you to do is kiss me and tell me that everything is going to be all right. That we will be all right.”
“You don’t understand. I’m…what?” His hands dropped, and he had to clear his throat before he could continue. “Ah, what was that about kissing?”
Feminine satisfaction filled her, helping her to regain her lost footing. Emboldened, she decided that if Edmund could behave un-Edmund-like, then for once, she could abandon the calm, collected, and responsible Julia. Tired of being trapped by her responsibilities, she wanted to feel young and reckless. More so, she wanted to relish the thud of her heart in her chest and the heat spiraling through her body as Edmund fastened his beautiful eyes on her.
Shoring up her courage, she lifted her arms and slid her hands up his chest, marveling at the feel of the warm, hard strength of him through his jacket and wondering why she had never dared do this before. Why had she waited so long, particularly as she felt his heart thud against her palms. It felt good. He felt good.
His fingers curled over her forearms. “Julia—”
“Edmund.” She cocked her head to the side. “Aren’t betrothals sealed with a kiss? Considering ours was penned when I was in the cradle, I appreciate your waiting.” Freeing her arms, she slid her hands around his neck, sliding her fingers into the soft curls teasing his cravat and smiling at the flare of light in his eyes. “But as you can see, I’m all grown up now.”
She watched him swallow, felt his hands lower to her waist, but frowned when he held her away from him.
“You certainly are.” He grinned. “That I noticed straightaway. But you see—”
“I do see. I see that you are wasting more of our time. I also see that you’re stammering when you could be kissing me. Don’t you want to kiss me?” Before she lost her nerve, she moistened her lips as Emily had once showed her to do to make them more alluring.
He expelled a choked laugh and shook his head. “Of course, I want to kiss you! A man would have to be lacking a pulse to reject such an offer. But Jules—”
She paused at the old childhood nickname. He hadn’t used it in years. But his hands had drawn her back to him, which bolstered her courage—and her daring.
“You do have a pulse, don’t you?” she whispered. She was standing so close to him that she could see his long eyelashes, and admire his lovely moss green eyes, and how they warmed at her question.
“For the moment,” he quipped. “However, I’d prefer to retain it, and should we proceed further with this, that could be dangerous for both of us.”
He had a point, and the old Julia would have heeded it, considering how the warmth of his gaze sent her pulse skipping into a treacherous rhythm. However, his look and the grip of his hands on her waist made the new Julia feel young, beautiful, and desired, something Edmund had not made her feel in years. “Really, Edmund, it’s one kiss. How dangerous could it be?” She raised a brow, knowing Edmund never could refuse a challenge.
He sucked in a sharp breath and stared at her. After a beat, he exhaled and swore softly. “Hell, I’ve been living dangerously my whole life.” His eyes dipped to her parted lips. “Why stop now?” He yanked her to him, his arms a vise around her waist, crushing her tight to him.
She gasped at the explosive heat of his body against hers. Her eyes widened when his head lowered, and inches away, the warmth of his breath whispered into her parted lips, “Forgive me.” His mouth closed over hers and he kissed her as she had never been kissed before. Kissed her as if he had waited as long as she had and was desperate to catch up.
His lips
were warm, soft, and sensual. She clung to him, her arms circling his neck, and was dimly aware of his grip tightening on her when her legs turned to liquid jelly and were unable to support her. And still he kissed her. Deeply, erotically, and expertly.
Better yet, she kissed him back!
She savored the taste of him as her mouth surrendered to his. He was a mixture of ale and cider. The sensual assault of taste, touch, and scent overwhelmed her. She loved the feel of his body, hard, warm, and muscular, crushed against her softer contours, and when he broke away for a moment to draw breath, she inhaled the rich masculine scent of him, and felt a wave of molten heat cascade through her limbs.
When she felt his tongue run along her lips, she gasped and drew back. She needed to breathe, to pause and gather her thoughts that had scattered like leaves to the winds. “We should stop. We can’t—”
“You’re so right.” He moistened his lips and she nearly shuddered at the hot, smoldering look he gave her. “But Jules, I did warn you about this being dangerous. Now it’s too late.”
His mouth again swooped down and plundered hers, devouring and demanding more and still more. Ripples of pleasure spiraled through her body. He aroused yearnings in her that she hadn’t known she possessed. She had recently wondered if she would ever feel them for Edmund…until now.
He drew back, and Julia blinked up at him, struggling to clear the sensual haze engulfing her. When clarity returned, she realized she was still intimately pressed against Edmund. His arms around her waist fully supported her, and through her riding habit she could feel his heart pounding against hers.
Flushing, she tugged free of Edmund’s embrace and straightened, grateful that her legs managed to support her weight when she stepped away.
“Well, then.” Her voice was breathless and sounded strange to her ears. Lifting an unsteady hand, she tucked an errant strand of hair back under her bonnet rim.
“Well, then indeed.” He smiled. “I had doubts about coming home, but no more.”
Her breath caught at the sultry look he swept over her. She wished she could say she was glad, too. The new Julia would have done so, but she was feeling more and more her old responsible self and a bit appalled at her brazen behavior. She tugged down her riding jacket, but refused the urge to run her fingers over her swollen lips. “So we are agreed. It is long past time we set a date and stop the run of wagers at White’s.”
She frowned when the smile curving his lips froze and then disappeared. After a moment, he lifted a hand to rub it along his neck in that strange, new adopted mannerism of his. “Ah, about that date. There is one minor complication in regard to that.”
“Oh?” Her hand stilled. “And what is that?”
“As much as I wish it otherwise, I’m not in a position to be making any future dates with you.”
“What are you talking about?” she demanded, a cold chill suffusing her, dousing the simmering embers of their shared passion. “You’re not backing out of the betrothal agreement. You can’t. My father would ruin you.”
“Particularly after that kiss,” he agreed quite amicably and leaned close to her as his eyes flashed with a spark of defiance. “But it was worth it.”
She stepped back and fisted her hands at her sides, a hard ball of suspicion curdling deep in her gut. She should have listened to his earlier stammers—or warnings. She hoped it wasn’t too late to do so.
“However, your father’s desire to murder me would be for different reasons than you think. I can’t set a date because I am not in a position to do so, which is what I tried to explain earlier.”
She simply stared at him, waiting him out. She was done talking. Done with being young and foolish and reckless. She feared she was about to pay the price for allowing herself to be so for one lovely moment.
“You see, I’m not Edmund.”
For the Love of a Soldier Page 34