“I fear we may have underestimated our chemistry.” Ian’s chuckle was as weak as his voice. “Might I suggest we part ways for the evening?” He cut off her mewl of protest by gently pressing his thumb to her lips. He couldn’t resist tracing the plump pillow of her lower lip with the pad of his thumb. It was a mistake, however, because he was nearly undone all over again when those lips parted, gifting him with a little glimpse of her pearly teeth and carnation-pink tongue. He cleared his throat, but his voice was still noticeably husky. “This is not to say you haven’t considered everything and the implications therein, but I think we would be wise to keep our wits about us. And you must think on what exactly you hope to get out of this rather dangerous plan of yours.”
“Dangerous?” she laughed incredulously. She wouldn’t ask that if she knew exactly where his mind went… Ian didn’t dignify the question with a straightforward response; he was too afraid he would describe, in vivid detail, all the things he wanted to do to her.
“Now that this…is out of our system, I need you to think clearly about what you want.”
“What I want?” She leaned back a little, her shapely brows knitting together. “I told you want I want—”
“I know what you desire,” he said, cutting her off, doing everything in his power not to grind upwards and make his meaning blatant. “What do youwant? Where should the line be drawn? Because you and I both know there is no permanence here.” At least, they did when their minds and bodies weren’t otherwise occupied. He watched as Juliette’s eyes fluttered down, shielding her gaze beneath the fan of her impossibly long coal-colored lashes.
“Stolen kisses in the dark? A few forbidden caresses? A little taste of pleasure?” Her cheeks flared as he said the last, but her eyes did not return to his face. “I can give you those.” He crooked a finger beneath her chin, forcing her to look back at him. “I willgladlygive you those, Juliette.” Her blush deepened, but the desire in her eyes was unmistakable, bold.
Ian knew he needed to get away from Juliette before any more of his faculties fled him…before he did anything both of them would regret.
“It’s important that you are certain about what you want to happen between us. The last thing I want is for this to end poorly. For you to regret anything.” She opened her mouth to speak, but closed her lips once more, seeming to think better of what she’d been about to say. “The last thing I want is you to be hurt.”
“And you?” she whispered. “What about you?”
“Me?” Ian barely stifled an incredulous chuckle.
“You have feelings as well, do you not?” she clarified with a charmingly innocent tilt of her head. Lord, if only she knew how many feelings he had. The realization that she was concerned about him in this situation was sobering and heady at the same time; it both thrilled him and made him nervous.
“You need not worry about me.” His voice was husky, rich with everything pounding through his veins.
“And why not?” She wrinkled her nose most charmingly, an expression that would have sent many a Society matron into a fit of vapors. Whether she realized it or not, her fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck, twisting and twining in a way that began to drive him mad with need. If they weren’t careful, then they would wind up tangled in one another again. “You may be a man, but I would think you would have…opinions about all of this. In fact, I would wager you have more opinions than I do because you’re so obviously more experienced.”
This time, Ian did release a bark of laughter. His hands tightened around her. “You would be incredibly accurate in that assessment; I do have a great deal more fodder for my imagination. But, while I do appreciate your concern, you needn’t worry. Truly.” He added the last when she lifted a disbelieving brow. And then he sobered because he needed her to understand how treacherous this situation was. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe she knew her mind or was blind to the dangers, but this was more than a stolen peck on the lips from a titled lordling at a ball. Ian was of a different class, a different world than she. And he had accepted an illicit invitation right beneath an earl’s nose. “Kisses, I will gladly give—a fact I believe I have made abundantly clear at this point. Holding you, touching you, are all things on the table. But how far do you wish this to go, Juliette? Where is the line you have drawn in that brilliant mind of yours?”
She chewed her lower lip and lowered her eyes, tilting her head away from him. They sat there in that compromising position for several minutes of silence. It should have been awkward and uncomfortable, but it wasn’t. Ian wanted to give Juliette all the time she needed to mull over her reply. When she finally did speak, she did so to the ceiling, to the walls, the cavernous, glass-filled room around them.
“This used to be my mother’s favorite room in the manor. Here, she would read, sew, and enjoy the view of the lands. It was always such a treat to be invited here into this sanctuary.” Her luminous eyes met his. “I spent a great deal more time here with her when I became ill.” Ian’s heart stuttered. “Scarlet Fever struck when I was seven years of age. My brother remained well—he, as the heir, was moved to another house under an abundance of caution as soon as the illness began to spread. I survived, just barely, but many children in the village did not. As if the weeks of fevers and hallucinations weren’t enough, I was sapped of all my vitality, my strength, my joy… My mother would bundle me up in a nest of quilts on that sofa. She would read to me, coax me into sipping barley water and bone broth, and we would watch the clouds race one another across the sky. I don’t remember being sick, but I remember recovering. I remember her. My health was so precarious that it caused everyone to treat me with kid gloves from then on. Even after my stamina grew and I was no longer piqued by a walk to the gardens, I was not allowed to do anything for myself. Everyone lived in constant fear that that outing, that exertion, that trip and fall so common in every childhood would, inexplicably, be the one to deplete me and do me in.
“I was not allowed to join my brother’s riding lessons. I couldn’t walk to the village or climb trees anymore. Anything above carrying two books to my rooms was considered too strenuous and, therefore, strictly forbidden. I was never even allowed to learn how to dance.” Pain flickered across her vision. Though Ian ached to comfort her, he could tell there was more she wished to say. He remained dutifully still as he listened. “The pattern continued after our parents were killed in a carriage accident and my brother became the new Earl of Hopesend…but it was different. Ethan survived my illness with his own trauma. He is my twin and we have always been closer than most siblings. When he thought he was going to lose me, it was not just the loss of a sibling he feared, but the horrible notion that he would be losing a part of himself. As such, he has developed a different sense of what is ‘right’ for me, and what is ‘safe.’ So, I attend my Reading Society meetings, I have few friends, and I do not attend balls where I would risk becoming overheated in a crush or—heaven forbid—asked to dance! Men do not court me, I suspect nearly as much for the fact that I am so secluded as the reality of just who my brother is. Everyone fears crossing him, so they do as he says. I am guarded like a precious porcelain doll. But with you, Ian…with you I feel like a woman for the first time in my life.”
This, Ian understood.
It wasn’t all that uncommon in families who had both suffered tragedy or narrowly escaped a tragic end. The reaction was often a way for them to hold onto what they had left and guard it with everything they had—whether or not those efforts were entirely rational. This, it would seem, would be exactly what the earl had been doing with Juliette. This vibrant woman had been condemned to a half-life because of her brother’s fear of losing her. And, in doing so, he had pushed her into Ian’s arms.
While it was tragic and Ian certainly felt sorry for Juliette, he couldn’t be too broken up about it. It had, after all, brought her to him—brought them to this very moment—however brief a time that may be.
Still, ever a physician, Ian asked, “And you have no lasting I’ll effects? No fluttering of your heart, dizzy spells, or periods of difficult breathing?”
“Not you, too,” Juliette groaned and made to push off of Ian’s chest; however, his hands held fast.
“I wouldn’t be who I am If I didn’t show care for your physical well-being.”
“And what about my mental well-being?” she demanded. “I have never felt more myself than when you look at me; when you touch me, Ian. I don’t believe etiquette lessons quite cover the proper way to admit such a thing to a man, so here I am treading into entirely uncharted waters and I hope it does not put you off of whatever this is.” She gestured to the limited space between them. “But I would not have you think you are in any way taking advantage of me. If anything, it is I who is taking advantage of you.”
She truly believed she was the one taking advantage here? Ian was practically struck dumb by the admission. He wanted to tell her she was wrong—that she was the epitome of delicate, well-bred fragility and he should have been drawn and quartered for even a fraction of the filthy things he’d imagined doing to her in the days since they had first met—but her earlier statements told him that would be precisely the wrong thing to say. The last thing Juliette wanted was to be viewed as the weak invalid she’d been treated as for so many years. That very view had deprived her of so many experiences and, while Ian had little to nothing to offer her, he could give her this much. He would offer her a taste of desire and passion here at this house party. It was an impermanent arrangement, but he would give her everything he could.
“So,” Juliette continued; “I will take what you are willing to share. Be it your Gaelic to assuage my thirst for languages, your time…or something else. Because it is all foreign and new and exciting. And I will cherish it.”
Ian gently tugged her closer and pressed his lips to her forehead.
“I understand,” he murmured against her soft skin. “For now, the hour grows late and we should both be off to our beds.”
“There is an excursion and a picnic scheduled for tomorrow along with games. You will join us, won’t you?”
“What sort of houseguest would I be if I didn’t?”
