Page 34 of The Wolf and the Wildflower
Jules could not explain why it was important for him to know this, only sensing that he must understand that she was not terrified to be here with him.
His gaze held hers inexorably, scorchingly. “You like being provocative and daring.”
“Of course I do. If not, how else should I have attained such perfection in the art of standing unflinchingly before powerful men of your ilk?”
“It is your gentleman disguise that gives you the courage?”
Her chest gave a frightful squeeze. “I’ve never admitted that I am in any sort of disguise.”
“I do not care what you admit or not. Your scent tells me everything I need to know.”
There went that damnable trembling of her heart again, and instinct pushed her to touch her moustache to ensure it was in place.
His gaze tracked her movements. “It is rather brilliant.”
“I admit I am quite clever,” she whispered, aware that she was not at all scared that he knew her secret.
“Arrogant,” he said softly.
“Confident,” Jules murmured.
“I like it. I do wonder whether, if you are stripped of it, would you be the same…”
Jules hoped it was not evident how her heart raced. “Is that what you wish to do within our…alliance, strip away my layers?”
Something truly mysterious sparked in those beautiful eyes. “And what would you do, should I attempt to unravel you?”
“I fear you are unequal to the task, Your Grace.”
“A challenge, Wildflower?”
Something primal hummed along her spine, warning Jules to retreat, for she played in unexplored waters. Yet she did not listen. “Would you accept it?”
Something savage flickered in his eyes. “No, I would not.”
“Why not?”
“Because you are of no real, lasting interest to me.”
Shocked, her eyes widened upon his face. He looked so indifferent his expression could be considered cruel. Those flat words stirred an unidentified emotion inside Jules. Befuddling, it felt like…disappointed hurt that nothing about her enchanted him enough where he believed she would stay in his thoughts long after they parted.
“I admit I wish to know you,” he continued. “Why, I have yet to understand.”
She tried to gather her scattered wit into a semblance of order. “Is there any point in wishing for it? After a few weeks we will be strangers passing in the streets of London.Ifwe pass each other at all, Your Grace.”Three weeks. Not enough time.
“You are correct. This mysterious allure will be fleeting and vanish before I can know why I was even mildly curious.”
Once again, that peculiar sense of losing something without even having possessed it wafted through her. “I quite agree, Your Grace.”
“James,” he replied instantly.
“James,” she slowly repeated.
Shockingly he gently tapped a finger along the bridge of her nose. “What do I smell like, Wildflower? Tell me.”
Who are you?The sudden desperate need to know burned through her with alarming fierceness. He was truly outrageous…and she liked him like this.
“Like the cold night air,” Jules said with candor. “Brisk and chilled yet refreshing.”
