Page 39 of The Earl Takes All
She placed her hand over her heart. “You’ve never been so vocal in your belief in me. Not that I needed the words. You showed me often enough, but still it is nice to hear them.”
He loved Albert, but his brother had always been quieter, less verbose. That she would welcome words that would have been left unsaid pained him, and he didn’t know why. Actions were all well and good, but she deserved the actions and the words. She deserved a good deal more than he could ever give her, than he would ever have the right to give her. It was important not to forget that her enjoying his company was only temporary. He finished off his port, stood. “We should probably retire. It’s been a long day, and I’m quite weary.”
Pushing herself to her feet, she placed her hand on his arm. He fought not to remember where that hand had been earlier, how her fingers had danced over him. It had been a mistake to give in to her pleas, although he was having a difficult time feeling remorse.
They traversed the hallways, ascended the stairs in silence. At her door, he raised her hand, pressed a light kiss to her knuckles. “I’ll see you in a bit.”
“Undress me.”
Everything in him froze, tightened. He stared at her inviting smile, her smoldering eyes.
“It’s late,” she added. “I hate to disturb my maid.”
“She’s paid to be disturbed.” His voice sounded scratchy and raw, not at all like his.
She flattened her palm against his chest, and he wondered if she could feel the thundering of his heart. In truth, he wanted nothing as much as he wanted to disrobe her, but that course was fraught with dangers. “I’d rather you do it.”
“I’m not certain that’s wise. I’m on a short leash here, Julia.”
Lowering her hand, she tilted up her chin, a challenging glint darkening the sapphire of her eyes. “I think you’re simply being prudish.”
Prudish? Him? He’d removed clothes from a thousand women. Well, at least a dozen. He didn’t know why his sexual exploits suddenly shamed him, made him wish he’d been a bit more discerning, more deserving of her. As though he could ever deserve her. But he’d be damned if he’d shrink from a challenge, especially one offered by her.
He could be strong, even if it meant being stronger than he’d ever needed to be. He could resist her, could ensure that nothing happened to put her babe at risk. Even as he cursed the vow he’d made to Albert, he reached past her, turned the knob, shoved open the door, grabbed her hand, and drew her into her bedchamber.
Thedoor slamming in their wake should have had Julia wondering if she’d pushed him too far. Instead, as she stood in the center of the room, her back to him, her body thrummed with anticipation.
She felt the tug on the lacings of her gown, then the slow parting of the cloth as he took his sweet time to loosen the bindings. He skimmed one finger across her shoulders and back, lingering on her spine, before trailing it down one side, up the other. He pressed his lips to her nape, and she felt the heated circle of dew formed by his open mouth. Everything within her turned molten. She wanted that dew covering every inch of her body.
He eased her gown down, and she stepped out of it.
“I’ll leave the remainder to you,” he said.
Disappointment slammed into her. Turning, she saw that he was already at the wardrobe in the process of hanging up the gown. Hanging it up when she would have preferred he discard it on the floor because he was too impatient to unveil the rest of her. How silly she was to think he found her the least bit attractive in her current state. She’d long ago ceased wearing corsets or anything binding, so she had little left to remove except for her chemise and drawers. Her maid had left a nightdress laid out on the foot of the bed. Julia was incredibly tempted not to put it on, to force him to look at her nudity, to acknowledge all the changes in her body.
Knowing what they risked didn’t lessen her desire for him. If anything, since his return, she wanted him more than ever. He was more forthcoming with his feelings, his praise. And the way she sometimes caught him looking at her—as though he were on the verge of ravishing her any minute—caused her to yearn for him all the more.
So it wasn’t her swollen body that had him turning his back on her. It was his desire for her. Taking solace in that, she slipped into her nightdress and spun around to face him. He was still at her wardrobe, standing before it as though striving to make sense of her gowns.
“You might as well undress in here,” she told him as she walked to the dressing table and sat upon the cushioned bench. Reaching up, she began removing pins from her hair.
“I’ll do that.”
In the mirror, she saw him step behind her, his jacket, neck cloth, and waistcoat already gone, his cuffs and two buttons on his shirt undone, leaving him looking rather uncivilized. He was much quicker at undressing himself than he was at undressing her. Lowering her hands to her lap, she reminded him, “You’ve never done this service for me before.”
Within the reflection, his eyes captured and held hers. “I’ve thought a thousand times of doing it.”
She furrowed her brow. “Why didn’t you?”
“I wasn’t confident you’d appreciate it.”
“I’ve never known you to lack in confidence.”
“Perhaps you don’t know me as well as you think.”
Sifting his hands through her tresses, he began removing the pins, carefully placing them in the china dish on the dressing table.
“It’s odd, isn’t it, that after all this time we still discover things about each other,” she said.
