Page 59 of The Wolf and the Wildflower
“I am aware you do not like the touch of others. Not even your dance instructor. It is the reason he fled Longbourn Park with mutters that he feared being murdered. ”
“I will try to tolerate it, but I make no promises,” he said.
Her expression brightened. “Thank you, James, that is more than I expected. As for your hair—”
“No.”
“It is rather unfashionable that way,” she said tartly.
“Dukes can set their own fashion.”
His mother blinked. “I suppose they can.”
She shifted closer to him, and he held himself still. It was not that the idea of her touch repulsed him, yet he could not find it in himself to seek that touch as he did with his Wildflower. Heat curled through him at the mere thought of her, and James ruthlessly willed himself to not look in her direction.
“Do you believe you will be able to select a duchess from these ladies,” his mother softly asked, staring after their guests. “They are all from the finest families of thehaut ton.”
“I am certain of it.”
She jolted. “It was my oversight for not querying before, but do you have any preference for your duchess?”
“No.”
His mother met his gaze, and he spied a sadness he did not understand in her eyes.
“I am sorry, James, I did not mean for you to see marriage as only a duty. I…” Frustration flashed in her eyes as if she struggled with what she wanted to say.
“There is nothing to worry about, Mother,” James said. “I understand my duty. ”
“I know,” she said in a rush of desperate air. “My heart is gladdened by your willingness, but I also want you to…long for affection and love within your union.”
He drew back, putting space between them.Love and affection?He canted his head and stared at his mother. She returned his regard, that sadness deepening inside her gaze. James swallowed back the hiss of annoyance scraping inside his throat. He did not like it when he lacked understanding of what she needed of him.
“Marriage need not be complicated,” he said flatly. “I will marry a lady of quality, one with all the requirements suited to be a duchess. Now, if you will excuse me, I’ve received several letters requesting sponsorship for charities. I will attend to them and also do some reading.”
He walked away, feeling the cravat at his throat tightening but he ruthlessly suppressed the desire to rip it away. Instead of going into the main house, James headed for the woods. The air carried a delicate thread of scent his way, and he slowed his step. Jules Southby. James held her unique flavor trapped within his lungs, hungry to keep it there, almost desperate to fully understand its wicked lure. The feeling of desperation allowed him to part his lips, relax his shoulders, and slowly ease the scent from his being. He shifted slightly, watching her approach, taking in the long, confident stride.
Their gazes met, and the memory of their heated encounter seemed to spark life in the space between them.Why her?The question weaved itself through him. James had never known a reaction so intense, so immediate to any woman. He had been introduced to at least a dozen lovely ladies today, and none had set off these dark, forceful needs that seemed as if nothing could truly assuage them.
I am not at all certain what you are to me, Wildflower.
Jules Southby was neither friend nor foe, yet her presence was necessary.A lover…she is my lover…the woman I feel I need to kiss and consume.
Jules carried herself with easy grace, smiling at a few ladies playing croquet on the lawns. She tipped her hat and bowed to a couple of ladies as a gentleman of manners would. He could not look away from the beauty of her eyes and that smile. He ought to, for it revealed his want and hunger, which should be kept private. A great longing assailed James. He wanted that smile directed at him and no one else. When that wild possessiveness roared inside him, he did not shy away from it but canted his head thoughtfully, allowing it to grow as she drifted closer.
“Your Grace,” she murmured, coming to a stand before him. “The duchess informed me this morning that a ball is to be held in three days.”
“You are angry.”
She jerked, and her eyes widened. “I…”
He reached out for her, then pulled his hands back, clenching them. “If you have no wish to speak of it, do not.”
Perhaps when they exchanged truths, it was just as difficult for her as for him.
“I will always be fascinated that you can sense my mood when I so carefully hide it.”
“Perhaps in time, it will go away.”
