Page 40 of The Secret of the Dashing Detective
But in the meantime, she would enjoy this time with him. Even if it only could only lead to heartbreak.
She reached out a hand to touch him before he moved too far, but he shook it off gently, causing her to warm in embarrassment. While Juliana longed to be close to this man, she realized that he knew what it meant to have family and love and passion – and was likely much more aware of what was at stake between them.
Juliana reminded herself that he was surely much more experienced than she, that he knew better, and she should defer to his wishes. And yet, even though she had been raised to do as she was told — with authority to come from her father and then her brother or husband – whichever came first – it wasn’t in her nature to follow along. She knew that she was an oddity, that any other young woman of thetonwould think her mad not to do as was expected of her. But what was she to do with this man before her, so tempting as a treasure at the end of a map without clear direction until now?
The man on her mind was currently walking away from her, however, toward the bag. She couldn’t help her curiosity at what else could be hiding in there.
“Is that… paint?”
He nodded. “You are going to practice with a paint brush as you cannot very well practice with a knife. You need to try to hit the targets. We’ll see how close you get.”
“I cannot paint your clothes!” she exclaimed.
“Then be sure to hit the pieces of fabric,” he said with a quick grin, and she crossed her arms.
“We know that will not happen easily. I’m afraid I have never been particularly gifted with skills such as accuracy.”
“I will wash the jacket if needed.”
She knew how much such a garment would be worth.
“I cannot ruin it. I will not.”
“This is important.”
“No.”
“Very well,” he said, apparently having decided not to argue with her stubbornness as he made up his mind about something. “You can paint my skin.”
And that’s when he started to undo his jacket.
Juliana knew what sheshoulddo. She should tell him to stop, that if they were caught, this would make her already suspect reputation irreparable.
But Matthew, apparently, felt ensuring her safety was more important than her reputation, as he didn’t seem inclined to stop.
Juliana didn’t have it within her to force the issue, and all she could do was stand there and watch with growing desire as he shed one layer after another.
His jacket slipped off his shoulders and dropped to the floor.
His fingers came to his cravat and tugged it free before it followed suit and he began to twist each button of his shirt through their holes before he lifted the shirt over his head, revealing a spectacularly sculpted torso that made Juliana’s mouth water. She had to snap it shut to keep from appearing like one of the fish in the fountain at their country estate.
Matthew, however, didn’t seem to realize how flustered she was. When Juliana gathered herself, she noticed a small, puckered scar beneath his left chest muscle, and she couldn’t stop herself from stepping forward and running her finger along it. His head snapped up and his gaze met hers.
“What are you—”
“Where is this from?”
He closed his eyes for a few seconds, seemingly resigned to answer her question. “I was on a case and the suspect wasn’t entirely thrilled about being followed. He caught me unaware.”
“I see,” she said, but she didn’t lift her finger away from the scar. Instead, she allowed it to slide along his chest to the center, where she wrapped one of his whorls of hair around her finger.
The rise and fall of his chest increased in speed, and she heard the hitch in his throat.
“Juliana,” he murmured, his voice hoarse as he reached in and wrapped his hand around her finger.
She placed the entire palm of her hand over his chest for just a moment, feeling the beat of his heart, so strong and powerful beneath her fingers, before she stepped back and away from him, stopping herself before she did anything truly foolish.
He turned and reached into the apparently bottomless bag and pulled out a paintbrush as well as a bottle of blue paint and a tray. He mixed the paint and dipped the brush in it before standing and holding out the handle of the brush to her.
