by Joanna Shupe
“Whatever happens, I would not wish to disgrace my aunt and uncle. They have been most kind to me.”
Disgrace her aunt and uncle? This was certainly a change of heart. “Are you not the same woman who dragged me outside at the Billingses’ ball to start rumors?”
“That was a long time ago—and there was nothing happening between us at the time.”
He tried to put the puzzle pieces together but they wouldn’t fit, no matter how he positioned them in his mind. “So when we were merely platonic business partners, the rumor of impropriety was acceptable. Now that impropriety is regularly occurring, we cannot allow anyone to find out? Do you realize how little sense that makes?”
“Nevertheless, it is how I feel. Perhaps we need some rules.”
This was more along the lines of what he expected of her. Plans. Battles. Negotiations. He waved his hand. “Fine, let me hear what you think.”
“The first rule we’ve already touched on. Whatever occurs stays just between us.”
He didn’t even need to contemplate that one. “Agreed. The second rule is complete honesty on both sides. You tell me what you want, what you like, stop me if I do anything you dislike or are uncomfortable with.”
“That is acceptable.” She paced a few steps. “The next is that we stick to our original agreement. This ends in five weeks.”
“And we still help each other in the meantime?”
“Yes, of course,” she said in a strange tone of voice. “Why would that change?”
He clenched his jaw. Indeed, why would that change? Precious Robert awaited her in London, the sweet artist who hadn’t a damned clue what to do with the female anatomy, apparently. At least Julius would give Nora all the pleasure she could stand for the next five weeks. Let the foolish painter try to live up to that when she returned.
Rubbing his eyes, he blew out a long breath. The idea of her cozying up to another man in mere weeks annoyed him. Yet it shouldn’t. Had he truly expected her to change her mind after one teeth-rattling orgasm? He had to be grateful that he had her now and that she wasn’t pushing for a scandal any longer.
If she were willing to carry around the guilt of an affair behind Robert’s back . . . who was Julius to stop her? Yes, he was precisely that selfish. He wanted her and didn’t care a fig if her London beau suffered because of it. “All right, what else?”
“I cannot think of anything more. Even still, I haven’t made up my mind.”
He closed the distance between them and lowered his voice. “What must I do to convince you? I find myself quite determined, my lady.”
He watched the slim column of her throat work as she swallowed. “This is madness.”
“Life is madness. The world is madness. Yet there is much to savor . . . like the shell of your ear, for example.” He skimmed the tender skin with his finger. “And your perfectly shaped earlobe. I think you might enjoy the bite of my teeth right here.” Leaning in, he demonstrated by taking the lobe between his lips and biting gently. She gasped and clutched at his arm to steady herself.
The closing gong sounded to signal the end of the trading day, startling them. Nora jerked and pulled away, smoothing the fabric over her stomach. Through the windows, Julius could see as traders began tossing bits of paper to the floor, turning it into a checkered carpet of missed opportunities and failures. Tallies would now be calculated. Monies collected and fortunes won or lost. He checked the Consolidated final call price.
“Dear God.” He squinted. Could that be correct?
“What is it?” She came closer and examined the scene below. “What happened?”
“You’ve made a considerable investment on that Consolidated stock. Your one hundred shares have almost doubled in value.”
“No, really? Where?”
“See, on that board? The G refers to Consolidated Gas. That’s nearly double what we bought it for.”
“How exciting! This stock-buying business is quite simple.”
Julius nearly choked. “Feeling confident, are you? Perhaps we should make a wager—”
“Absolutely not.” She put a hand to his chest, her palm crushing his necktie. “I know better than to wager on stocks with you. And I don’t want the shares. You should keep them. You paid for them, after all.”
“Then how about we use the earnings for a dinner at Sherry’s one of these evenings?”
“Deal.”
He held her a moment and she seemed in no hurry to part, either. He pushed a loose strand of brown hair behind her ear. “Will you come to me tonight?”
“If I say no, will you stop asking me?”
“No. If you refuse, I’ll merely try all the harder to succeed in seducing you.” Angling his head, he took her lips in an easy kiss, one that proved his sincerity as well as his intentions. She met him eagerly, her fingers clutching his vest. There was no hurry this time, just a desire to be in the same space, to breathe the same air as one another. An affirmation of the strong charge that pulled them together at every turn.
When they broke free, they were both breathing hard. Her lips were swollen and red, and a bolt of lust raced down his spine. Christ, she was a vision. “I cannot stop thinking about you and wondering what it would be like between us.” Combustible, if he were forced to guess.
“Me as well,” she said, albeit rather shyly, and the admission threw kerosene on the ache already raging inside him.
“Then I believe we should satisfy our curiosity. Tonight. At my home.”
“Fine,” she said on an exaggerated sigh, her eyes bright with mischief and desire. “I will meet you tonight, if only to shut you up.”
A laugh tore free of his throat. “Thank God—because talking is the least interesting thing I am able to do with my mouth.”
In the end, Julius insisted on sending a carriage for her. He hadn’t liked the idea of her hailing a hack at eleven o’clock in the evening by herself. So when Nora snuck out of her aunt and uncle’s house, a grand black carriage with matching gray horses sat across the street, waiting.
The ride wasn’t long and she tried to remain calm. He’d been right: this was not her first—or tenth—secret outing but this had a different feel to it altogether. She had held Robert at arm’s length for months. When their relationship finally turned physical, it hadn’t been due to pressure from Robert. In fact, it had been she who’d finally decided to lose her innocence.
And their intimacies had been nice. Not earth shattering . . . but nice. She hadn’t regretted anticipating their vows since they would eventually marry.
The circumstances with Julius couldn’t be more different. There would be no marriage. They would separate at the end of the engagement—or whenever Julius located his father’s investors and no longer needed her. Either way, this would be over and she would be left knowing that two men she hadn’t married had seen her naked. Touched her body.
Could she live with that?
On the other hand, could she give up whatever was happening between her and Julius? The air turned positively electric in his presence, a hum that settled under her skin and in her blood. She hadn’t ever experienced this strong of a reaction with Robert, who’d felt safe and comfortable. By comparison, Julius was dangerous and wild . . . and irresistible.
No one needs to know. You’ll be back in dreary London soon, missing the excitement here. May as well hoard as many memories as you can.
Seize the moment. This was her new plan. Her father and society could go to the devil for all she cared.
The carriage arrived at the side of Julius’s mansion. After pulling up her hood, Nora descended and made her way to the secondary entrance he’d told her about. As expected, the rounded wooden door with black hinges was unlocked. A set of stairs waited ahead.
“No one uses the east stairs except for me,” he’d said. “Take them and come find me at the top.”
The stone steps curved higher and higher up into the house. Other than her boots scraping on the rough surface, the ti
ght space was quiet. Soft electric bulbs glowed every few feet to keep her from tripping, and she noted several closed doors in alcoves along the way. Her heart thumped furiously behind her ribs, a wild staccato of recklessness and longing, the perfect sound to accompany a clandestine outing such as this.
Her leg muscles burned by the time she arrived at the top. Leaning over, she put her hand on her corseted stomach and dragged in a few deep breaths.
“Worn out from the climb, my lady?”
Julius put down the book he’d been reading and stood from the turret’s window seat. He wore no coat, just a navy blue waistcoat and necktie along with a white shirt, which had been rolled up to expose strong forearms. The look was oddly intimate and incredibly appealing.
“I’ll be fine in a moment.” She threw back the hood on her cloak and watched his gaze roam over her hair and face. She couldn’t be certain but thought he let out a shaky breath of his own.
“I realize it’s a long climb, but I thought this best considering your rule for absolute privacy. No one will discover us here.”
“I cannot fault your logic; I merely wish you’d had the foresight to install an elevator.”
He snorted as he came forward. “I’ll take it under advisement for the next French chateau I build.” Grasping her fingers, he brought her hand up to his mouth and pressed his lips to her knuckles.
The sweet gesture and playful words relaxed her, alleviating some of the tension residing between her shoulders. “Please, do. I would hate for your knees to give out on you in your old age.”
He shot her a glance through his lashes, his irises a deep blue. “Funny. My knees are not at all what I’m worried will give out in my old age.”
A very unladylike bark of laughter burst from her mouth. “You have a filthy mind, Julius Hatcher.”
His large hands encircled her waist and dragged her flush against his front. So much heat and strength there, the ridges and angles deliciously different from her own frame. “And you’ll soon be quite glad of it,” he murmured as he began nibbling the side of her neck and removing her cloak. “I am ecstatic that you’re here.”
The dull yellow light from the gasolier bounced off the books and wooden rafters, a romantic effect in the intimate space. One thing she didn’t see was a bed, however. Where did he plan to do . . . that? Her stomach dropped as her cloak hit the floor. “And I am quite nervous.”
He ceased kissing her throat, then leaned back to find her eyes. “You have nothing to be afraid of with me. I merely want to bring you pleasure, Nora. That’s all.”
Seize the moment, Nora. “I’ll not change my mind, if you are worried.”
Linking their fingers together, he led her to the window seat. “I’m not worried. You are the boldest woman I’ve ever met. But if you do change your mind, just know I’ll not be angry with you.”
How did he know precisely the right thing to say at all times? She nodded and he kissed her forehead, then helped her sit. With a flick of his wrist, he uncovered the hidden sideboard. “I have a bottle of chilled champagne ready or we could enjoy brandy. Entirely up to you.”
“Champagne, please.”
Within seconds he had handed her a glass and joined her on the window seat. “What shall we toast to?”
She raised her glass. “Savoring.”
One blond brow shot up. “Indeed. Savoring.” Their glasses clinked and then she took a long swallow of the sweet bubbly.
Once again, he surprised her. She hadn’t known what to expect once she arrived, but she hadn’t anticipated relaxing with a drink. Quite thoughtful of him, really. “I never asked—have your mother and sister returned to Albany?”
“Yes, the morning after the fire.”
She sensed there was more to the story from the way his expression shuttered. “Were they scared by the blaze? My uncle said there was no clear indication on what started it.”
“He likely didn’t want to worry you, but it was set deliberately.”
“Deliberately? Are you certain?”
She watched, mesmerized, as he finished the rest of the champagne in his glass, the muscles in his forearms shifting with the movement. He had quite sturdy hands. A man’s hands, well used, with long, rough fingers. The surface of her skin tingled just imagining those hands on her bare skin.
“The battalion chief seemed to think so,” he was saying, though she hardly paid any attention. “And my office was ransacked while the staff was out battling the flames. I cannot fathom a reason for any of it, honestly.” He rose and retrieved the champagne bottle.
“Your office was ransacked? It must have something to do with the rumor you started, the one about the lucrative stock from your father’s investment.”
“That certainly seems plausible,” he said, refilling her glass and then his. “Especially if the goal was to get me and my staff out of the house to search it.”
“I never dreamed that rumor could be dangerous for you.”
He lifted a shoulder. “We already knew these men were not honorable. Don’t worry. I’ll find them eventually.”
She sipped her own champagne and tried to contain her nervous anticipation. Part of her could not believe she’d actually come tonight; the other part wondered what was taking him so long to get started. She felt ready to crawl out of her skin.
When he lowered himself to the seat again he landed directly next to her. His leg touched the outside of her thigh as he angled toward her and the proximity of his large body caused her heart to stutter. He raised a hand and swept his knuckles over the side of her face, near her jawbone, and every nerve ending jumped to attention. He twirled a tendril of her hair around the end of one finger. “I love your hair. It’s the color of the strongest coffee.”
She could drown in the bright blue pools of his eyes. “I find my hair rather boring, though that sounds as if I’m attempting to worm a compliment out of you.”
“No worming necessary. I am more than prepared with compliments. My mind has done little else but think on you while keeping me awake at night. You’ve been quite the distraction.” Releasing her hair, he slipped the same finger lower, along her jaw, the side of her throat, until he reached the scalloped edge of her pale pink silk evening gown. The digit slipped inside her clothing to gently scrape the skin over her chest, down to the swell of her breast above her corset. She inhaled sharply as he traced the flesh lazily, carefully, as if he had all the time in the world. Her breasts grew heavy, heat winding its way through her insides, and her lids fluttered closed as she swayed toward him.
Both of their glasses somehow disappeared and then he was pulling her closer. More fingers slid to join the first, his palm cupping her breast over her undergarments, and he pressed his forehead to her temple, his breath steady in her ear.
“I can still taste you,” he whispered, sounding almost agonized. “Can still feel you coming on my tongue. It’s been enough to drive me mad.”
The room lost all its air and she could not breathe. “Julius . . .”
“Kiss me, my lady.”
Nora wasted no time in turning her face and joining her mouth to his. In mere seconds she’d turned boneless, a mass of hunger and yearning, with a desperate need to touch him. To get closer. His tongue swept past her lips, demanding, and she opened to welcome him.
These were no soft, comforting kisses; these stirred her soul, roused her lust, and turned her inside out. She clung to Julius’s shoulders to keep steady while her senses reeled. Even the kisses they’d shared before tonight hadn’t felt this deep, this honest. There was no pretending this wasn’t happening or that she did not want this with every fiber of her being. She most definitely did.
Palms and fingers tested and explored the shape of her through her clothing. Arms, ribs, stomach, shoulders, neck . . . his hands touched her everywhere, it seemed. One hand threaded her hair, disheveling the pins holding it up, and long strands tumbled about her shoulders. He pulled back. “My God, you are glorious,” he said and sifte
d a hand through her hair. “I want to strip you bare and see all this dark silk spread on my pillow.”
The comment rolled through her like a wave of fire. She cupped his jaw, the hint of evening whiskers quite roguish, like a Norse pirate, and she brought his mouth back to hers. He captured her lips and drove his tongue inside, melding, caressing. Without breaking free, he suddenly lifted her and placed her sideways on his lap, her legs hanging over him. She could feel the hard length of him underneath her, undeniable proof of how much he wanted her, and the flesh between her legs pulsed with a distracting ache. Heedless of how wanton she appeared, she rolled her hips, her backside shifting over his erection . . . and they both groaned.
“Nora,” he panted, his forehead pressed to hers. “Tell me what you want.”
She didn’t even need to think on it. “I want everything.”
I want all your kisses. All your lingering glances. All your attention. Only me.
He smiled against her lips. “Greedy, are we?”
“Indeed, the greediest. Please,” she said, kissing him once more, her nails digging into his shoulders.
Air washed over her stocking-covered legs as he pushed her skirts aside. Clever fingers skimmed her shin and thigh, then pried her legs apart. He found the part in her drawers and stroked her folds. Teased her entrance and tested the slickness there. “You are so wet. I cannot wait to taste you again.” Withdrawing his hand, he brought his fingers to his lips. Slipped the one coated in her arousal into his mouth. Blond-tipped lashes swept down over those piercing eyes and he groaned with male satisfaction.
Wicked. So very, very wicked.
He reached between her legs once more, this time with renewed purpose. “Oh,” she said when he brushed the nub at the apex of her sex, the place where all her nerve endings were currently screaming for attention. She bucked when he did it again.
He took her lips, harder this time. Flames licked her insides as he circled and rolled that tiny bud, his tongue in her mouth. He was all around her, the two of them, alone, in a tiny hidden sanctuary. The city felt far, far away, forgotten, along with any inhibitions. She wanted this. She wanted him.