“Well, you’re certainly a hero,” Julianna lavished well-
deserved praise on him. “You’re kind, sensitive, brave,
warm and very good looking. Everything a hero should be.
But why don’t you think you’re romantic?”
Richard shook his head. “I never brought a lady flowers,
I don’t pour honeyed flattery over them like Ned, I don’t
recite poetry like George, I don’t cook gourmet cuisine.
All I can do is spread bananas on pizza.”
She smiled and sipped at her wine. “It’s romantic if your
intentions are sincere. I enjoyed your banana pizza more
than any gourmet meal I could get at LaGrenouille.”
“Sincere?” He buffed the Middleham Ring on his shirt.
“Mayhap. I don’t put forth any false fronts. Nay, there’s
naught false about my front.” He took a quick glance
downward. Her eyes couldn’t help but follow.
“That’s my idea of romantic,” she assured him. “Not
flowers or poetry or flattery. Just sincerity. That other
stuff is just veneer, and it wears quite thin after a
while.”
His eyes pinned her and she took another sip to ease the
tension. “Simply speak your heart. Share your heart.
That’s what romance is all aboutto me,” she said softly.
He reached over, took the glass from her hand and placed
it on the table in one swift, graceful movement. “Then
may we share some tonight?”
The hearth glowed, seductive music floated through the
loungethe perfect ambiance. But now that the moment was
here, the reality of it nudged her in a stern warning:
Don’t.
“Come here, Julianna.” The way he opened his arms to her,
she couldn’t refuse. One warm embrace can’t hurt. But
once she was in that embrace, and his lips sought hers,
it felt as natural as breathing. He kissed her lovingly,
gently and thoroughly. Stopping him would be as wrong as
telling the sun not to shine.
Her heart beat the same primitive tattoo as the music
surrounding them.
When his hand slid to her breast, she knew she had to
take charge or nature would. “Richard” She hadn’t meant
sound so whispery, but her voice was nowhere to be found.
She cleared her throat. “We can’t get involved. It’ll be
too much heartache if something happens and you get sent
back.” She wondered how convincing she really sounded,
with her fingers still wound through his hair and her
body half pressed up against his.
“I’m not going back, Julianna. I’m resigned to my fate.
I’m not like Ned, I don’t rake every wench that crosses
my path. I keep my desire firmly in check. But right now
my desire is about to burn a hole in these thin trousers
so I’ll have to go back to wearing that torturous denim
castrati garment.”
She let out a deep sigh and tried to calm her breathing.
There’d been some pretty heavy breathing till now.
“Richard, I’ve been fighting my feelings all along and
doing a pretty good job of it so far. Don’t let me
weaken. Don’t let me fall in love with you. There’s
enough weird stuff going on here already. We’ve got
enough to do.”
“I’ve grown very fond of you, Julianna.” He stroked her
cheek. “And I’m still growing.” He relaxed his embrace
and brushed her lips with his before sitting back.
“However, you must lead and I follow, as this is your
domain. I’m also a gentleman. If this were Ned sitting
here, you’d have been ravished thrice already, in six
different ways, and on your way to fetch him a beer.”
“Doesn’t he take no for an answer?” Her hand still played
through his hair.
“He doesn’t even ask.”
“Looks like he doesn’t mind never going back to his own
time. After tonight, George might not, either.”
“Well, Ned covered his arse quite well. He informed me he
left the kingdom in good hands with no detail unattended
to, and George will go anywhere there’s wenches and
booze, even if it’s back to the stone age.”
“I wonder if you can go back by sheer force of will. Our
minds are so much more powerful than we think.” A jumble
of thoughts entered her head and vanished. This wasn’t
the time to ponder telekinesis, as he tickled her earlobe
and ran his thumb over her bottom lip. All she could do
was close her eyes and let the exquisite sensations take
over. She instinctively moved closer. Their bodies
touched, his skin against hers. One more kiss, just one
more of those delicious warm kisses, and I’ll call it a
night, she convinced herself. Their lips met.
The door knocker pounded.