“The truth of it is she put herself in my path on countless occasions, until I finally threatened to tell Lord Venerton of her behavior. It did the trick. Nothing works like the threatening of tightened purse strings with women like that.” He touched Julia’s chin, tenderly tipping her face up to his. “You know the woman, and you know me.”
“But I don’t know you,” Julia admitted. “Not really. We had such a fast courtship. I hadn’t realized that until, well, until I thought you had a mistress, and then it struck me how little I actually know you.”
“That is my fault. I wanted you from the moment I saw you. I hadn’t given you enough time.”
Julia’s pulse quickened. “Did you?”
“I did.” He gave her a lopsided smile. “Tell me what you wish to know about me, and I’ll answer.”
“What’s your favorite color?”
“Blue.”
“What’s your favorite food?”
“Roasted venison.”
“Do you prefer petunias or hyacinths?”
“I’ve always been partial to tulips myself.” He remained perfectly sincere in his reply, though his twinkling eyes gave his playfulness away.
Julia forced herself to keep her face impassive. “Do you prefer being out of doors, or indoors?”
“Out of doors when it’s pleasant; indoors when the weather is dastardly.”
She nodded. “Fair enough.”
“My turn.” He ran his thumb over her lower lip. “Lips, or tongue?”
Her breath caught. Oh my.
Immediately, she recalled those heady kisses before the consummation of their union. When his mouth had burned like fire against her own, when the simple brush of his tongue made it seem as if the world had enveloped her in the most exquisite conflagration.
She glanced shyly down before returning her gaze to boldly lock with his. “Both.”
His slow smirk indicated he clearly approved. “Shirt on, or off?”
Oh yes, that. Angry though she might have been when she first saw him, the strength of his broad chest, and the tight bands of muscle making wonderful ridges along his stomach, had been impossible to ignore. She had never seen a man without his shirt, though she knew well enough that such a physique as William’s was not common.
“Most definitely off.” She let her eyes fall closed and waited for the brush of his lips against hers.
A rap came from the door, followed by a singsong, saccharine voice. “Julia, dear, will you walk down with me to the drawing room?”
Julia sighed. “Lady Venerton.”
“Julia?” William arched a brow.
Julia rolled her eyes. “We haven’t been friends for ages. Not since my father—”
William released her and pulled the door open to face Lady Venerton. “Her Grace,” he said with obvious stress on the title. “Is still readying herself and will be down momentarily.”
“I hadn’t realized you had arrived, Your Grace.” Lady Venerton’s tittering giggle suggested otherwise.
“Indeed,” William replied dryly.
“Do send Her Grace down when you’re done with her.”
William said nothing more and shut the door. “That woman is vile. How did you ever consider her a friend?”