A small smile curved his lips as he imagined how he might go about seducing his beautiful spinster to come around to his way of thinking.
Chapter Five
Jane couldn’t believeshe’d let Emma talk her into accompanying her to Julian’s house a week after the disastrous dinner party. She should have known it was merely an excuse for her friend to be alone with Michael. Things were very unsettled between them, as Emma had wanted to be married in New York and Michael had been forced to admit that his financial situation was so dire that he had no time left for such things. He’d insisted they be married immediately or not at all.
Jane also should have known Julian was under orders to spirit her away so the engaged couple could have a few moments to themselves to talk about all the obstacles that stood between them. While an obvious physical attraction seethed between Michael and Emma, Jane wasn’t at all certain the two of them would be happy together. They simply seemed far too different.
The fact that Jane had willingly gone with Julian—and hadn’t uttered a word of protest when he suggested they view the portrait gallery—only proved she was the most weak-willed woman who’d ever lived. She’d shirked her duties as Emma’s chaperone in order to spend a few more moments alone with the man who’d broken her heart beyond repair.
“I don’t know what you hoped to accomplish by bringing me up here,” she told Julian, once they entered the long echoing room.
Julian only laughed. “Why, Lady Jane. You give yourself far too much credit. I haven’t given you a second thought in years.”
She blushed, hating the ease with which he turned her own words against her, making them sound like the lie that they were. Of course, in his case, they were probably true. She certainly harbored no illusions that he’d given much thought to her at all over the last seven years.
“We really shouldn’t leave Emma and Michael alone together. I’m supposed to be acting as her chaperone.”
Julian came up behind her and put his big hands on her shoulders. The heat of his touch stole her breath away. “What harm can it do if they want to explore the passionate feelings they have for one another?” he murmured, his voice very near her ear. “They’ll be married in less than a week.”
He was right, of course, but she hated that she had nothing left to argue with him about. She stared blindly at a portrait of Julian’s family, commissioned scant months before the tragedy that had torn them apart forever, and tried to ignore the overwhelming presence of the flesh and blood man behind her.
He flexed his hands, tenderly massaging her shoulders, and she fought the urge to crumple into a puddle at his feet. Realizing how dangerous even this casual touch could be, she stepped away, trying to leave a comfortable distance between them.
“All right,” he told her. “I understand. You don’t want to renew our friendship. And you’re right. You have every reason to view me with suspicion. But before we part ways, I must know what will happen to you once Miss Marks is wed.”
Frowning, she took another step away from him. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Just this. You don’t have to take in another American to keep a roof over your head.” He sighed and raked one hand through his dark hair. “Let me help you, Jane.”
She stared at him, aghast and embarrassed. “I don’t need your help.”
He closed the distance between them, as though he knew she couldn’t think clearly while he was this close. “Stubborn,” he muttered. “You always have been.”
Relieved that he seemed to have accepted her refusal, she forced herself to relax. “I’ve struggled to make ends meet for years now, and you never seemed to care. Why the sudden interest?”
Julian stared at her. Again, she found herself drowning in the depths of his midnight eyes. “I tried to forget you. Hell, perhaps I even succeeded for a while. But you’re the only woman I’ve ever known who truly knew me, and I miss that. I miss you.”
