Claudia realized they had come to halt at the edge of the
terrace.
"What I am trying to say" -she closed her eyes for a
moment, tried to concentrate- "is that I have known what
you are for years now."
He dropped her hand, folded his arms across his chest as
his eyes narrowed with obvious displeasure. "You have
known what I am for years now." It was a statement of
incredulity, not a question.
"Ah... yes," she said, sounding terribly unsure.
"And that would be?"
Now was hardly the time to dissemble, she thought wildly
and muttered, "A rake."
The expression in his eyes darkened. An absurd sense of
panic welled up in her.
"A word, madam," he growled, and snatched her wrist,
dragging her across the terrace, down into the garden,
marching along at quite a clip toward the hothouse in the
corner of the grounds. Claudia moved almost unconsciously,
her thoughts a whirlwind of confusion, her heart warring
mightily with what was left of her good sense.
Halfway there, he seemed to think better of dragging her
and hauled her into his side, clamping an iron arm around
her waist and steering her onward. "I've come to the
conclusion that you are not only the Demon's Spawn, you
are also woefully ignorant of men. And let me just add
that this discovery is rather astonishing, what with the
way you topple men over like chess pieces everywhere you
go."
"What?" she gasped as he reached for the door of the
hothouse and pushed it open. "I don't topple them!"
"The bloody hell you don't," he said, and pushed her
across the threshold of the hothouse, following right
behind. "I could list them all if you'd like," he
continued sharply as he rooted around a table, producing a
candle. Lighting it, he swung the door shut with his foot
and held the candle high. "Benjamin Sommer, Daniel
Brantley, Maurice Terling, Colin Enderby-"
"Oh!" she fairly shrieked, insulted that among the list of
suitors was the invidious Baron Enderby. "Colin Enderby
has never darkened my door, and if he ever does, Randall
is quite clear that he is to shoot upon sight!"
Julian paused to place the candle on a workbench. "I beg
your pardon, Lady Claudia," he said, dipping into a
mocking bow, "I surely meant to say the Duke of
Gillingham. Or the Marquess of Braybrook. Or the Marquess
of-"
"All right!" Claudia snapped, and pressed her forehead
into her palm. "Honestly, I don't know the point of all
this!"
"The point," he said, his voice noticeably softer, "is
that I confess that I can't get you out of my mind, and
you respond with some perceived cut from a half dozen
years ago. You think that makes me a rake, and I think you
haven't the slightest idea of what a rake is."
"I know what a rake is," she said slowly. "I know what you
and Phillip used to do. I know where you went..." Her
throat felt thick; she didn't want to think of Phillip
now.
Julian said nothing for a long moment. "I hope to God that
isn't entirely true," he muttered.
So did she.
"But it doesn't change anything," he said, the gravel
crunching beneath his shoes as he moved toward her. She
looked up when he reached her; he took her hand and folded
it into his. "It surely doesn't change the fact that I
can't get you out of my mind," he said, reaching for her
temple to brush his knuckles into her hair. "When the sun
comes up, I think of you. When it sets, I think of you,
and every moment in between, it seems."
Not only was that absurdly sentimental, but it made her
heart race erratically. It was racing so badly that she
feared it would fail her. His fingers twined in a strand
of lose hair, untangled it from her earring, then trailed
down her neck, to her shoulder, gently caressing her
skin. "When you walk into a room, everything else ceases
to exist for me. I think about how you would feel in my
arms or lying beneath me," he added quietly. "I think
about how you would feel if I were deep inside you and
your body surrounded me."
All right, she was going to faint. "I d-don't believe
you," she stammered thickly.
He said nothing, let his gaze scorch her with it's
intensity. His hand slipped around the nape of her neck
and he gently pulled her forward. Oh no. He was going to
kiss her and make her mad with longing all over again. She
didn't want that... oh yes, she did! She wanted it with
every fiber of her being; wanted it as badly as if it were
the air she needed to breathe.
"You are afraid to believe me," he softly corrected her,
and his other hand slipped around her back, urging her
into his chest. Julian trailed the pad of his thumb across
her lips. "You are afraid of me."
She was afraid, all right. Of the dark glint in his eyes,
the seductive set of his mouth. Of the whispered words
that captivated her, suspending her between wild desire
and reality. Something in her womb fluttered, a rush of
breath escaped her. Julian ran a thumb across her lips,
and as if in a dream, she watched as he lowered his head
to hers, quailing only when his lips brushed softly across
hers. Her lids fluttered shut, and she at once felt
outside of herself, almost as if someone else was
experiencing the tender pressure of his mouth and tongue.
What was she doing? Her mind screamed to stop, knowing
that his kiss could melt all of her defenses, knowing that
it was nothing more than play to him. Yet her heart had
raced too far, her body simmered beneath his hands and she
instinctively feared that it would take a team of four to
pull her away from him now.
His hands came up and cupped her face, barely touching
her, yet sending a thousand tiny bolts of electricity
through her. He drew her lips between his teeth one at a
time, tasting and shaping them to his will. With his
tongue, he probed deeply, swirling over her teeth and gums
while his hands trailed to her ears, her neck, and her
shoulders. She had the strong sensation of drifting, and
he must have thought so, too, because he slipped one arm
around her waist, anchoring her to him.
This was insanity! It was madness that allowed him to use
her, madness that allowed him to charm her into this! But
when he deepened the kiss, Claudia boldly pushed her
tongue forward to explore his mouth. It was wonderfully
erotic, the taste of champagne on his breath, the feel of
his teeth and his tongue twining with hers. With the tips
of her fingers, she felt the cut of his thick sideburns
against his skin, the tender spot of his temple, the satin
feel of his hair. She had never kissed like this, never
experienced such a swell of pleasure as this...
Julian suddenly wrapped his arms around her and hauled her
into his chest, pressing her tightly against him as he
surged into her mouth. His arousal pressed hard and long
against her belly, and when he lifted her onto the
workbench, against the apex of her thighs. Fascinated -
provoked - she moved against the hardness, wanting to feel
it through her skirts.
With a moan deep in his throat, Julian suddenly toppled
her onto her back on top of the workbench and covered her.
One hand spanned the whole of her ribcage, moving upward
until it rested against the side of her breast. With the
heel of his hand, he pressed against it while his mouth
moved over hers, filling her with his tongue and his
breath and his passion.
The prurient sensations unfurling in her body numbed her
mind to everything, including her conscience. Claudia's
hands tangled urgently in his hair, then fell to his
shoulders to feel the muscles there and in his back
contract with his movement. His hand pressed more firmly
against her breast; his thumb flicked across the hardened
peak pressing against her gown, and another, violent
shudder rifled through her.
Julian lifted his head, sucking his breath. "You are right
to fear me," he gasped. "I fear myself - I want to touch
all of you, every inch of you." His lips skimmed the
column of her neck as his hand cupped her breast,
squeezing gently, fitting it to his palm.
She wanted him to touch every inch of her, and it scared
her. "I fear myself more," she exclaimed hoarsely, and
pushed against his chest. "I don't know why I allow you to
seduce me like this!"
"Seduce you? Darling, you seduce me, with your eyes and
your mouth and your voice," he murmured hoarsely. "Can't
you believe that I want you? Can't you feel that I do?"
Oh, she could feel it, deep inside her, tingling in the
pit of her belly. "I know what you are doing, Julian. You
are toying with me -"
"Not with you, Claudia. Never with you," he whispered
earnestly, and continued his gentle assault of all her
senses. Her body was giving way to him even though her
heart knew it was a tryst, a meaningless dalliance. She
closed her eyes, allowing herself to drift even further
down this course with him, instinctively knowing she had
passed the point of return and that she couldn't stop this
now, that she didn't want it to stop. Her body burned
everywhere he touched her-and when he reached inside her
gown and freed her breast from her camisole and bodice,
she felt herself slide even deeper into a fog of pure,
undiluted pleasure. Her breast swelled in his hand; his
fingers massaged the tender flesh that had never been
touched by another living soul, sending waves of desire
crashing through her.
But when his lips closed around her, the desire spiraled
out of control, drawing from a well between her legs and
pulsing to the breast that he suckled. He snaked one arm
behind her back and lifted her to his mouth. Claudia's
arms entwined above her head; pots and trowels crashed to
the gravel below them. She felt herself surging upward as
the desire she was feeling built to an intolerable pitch,
its pressure both sharp and pleasurable -
"Oh my God!"
A woman's voice, an intruder, shattered the passion that
surrounded them and Claudia suddenly could not breathe.
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