before returning to her face and lingering on the stubborn jaw and willful mouth. His new bride, he decided, was going to be a challenge…and a handful—if the defiant set of her head was anything to go by.
Aloud, he merely asked, “And would you prefer death to marriage with me?”
Nell’s lips tightened. How ungentlemanly of him! She shot him a hostile glance. “Of course not—I am not a fool.”
“Then don’t act like one.”
Nell started at the crisp tone. Some of her belligerence fading, but not much, she demanded, “What do you mean?”
“I mean, my dear, that we are in this together. Both of our lives have changed in a manner neither one of us could have imagined twenty-four hours ago. Do not forget that you are not the only one being forced into marriage with a stranger. We can either make the best of it, or we can spend our time making ourselves unhappy. The choice is ours. I, for one, do not intend to spend the rest of my life in misery.”
“But aren’t you angry at what happened? Doesn’t it make you furious that you are compelled to marry a woman you hardly know?” Nell’s lips trembled and she looked down at the floor. Honesty compelled her to add, “You will be marrying a woman who has been branded half-mad by society and, as you may have noticed, a woman who is also a cripple.”
Julian tipped up her chin, his hand warm against her skin. His eyes gleaming with an emotion she could not name, he demanded softly, “Do you know that I nearly called out one of my best friends for referring to you in those terms?”
Nell’s eyes widened and her heart banged painfully in her chest. “D-D-Did you?” she managed, her skin tingling where he touched it.
Julian nodded. “And if I was prepared to fight a duel with him, what should I do with you for daring to say the same thing about the woman I am going to marry, hmmm?”
Nell couldn’t think. He was too close. She was too aware of his hand beneath her chin, too conscious of his wide-shouldered body and blatant masculinity, to do more than stare, her reaction to him evident.
Something clenched painfully within him at her wide-eyed expression and, giving into the whim that had been with him since they’d met at the toll keeper’s cottage, his lips captured hers. Her mouth was soft and startled, the taste and texture of it beyond his imagination. He had known that he would enjoy kissing her, had known that her lips would be sweet and warm, but he could never have guessed at the fierce, powerful desire that would twist and knot within him the moment his mouth touched hers.
Nell gasped, her fingers clutching at his shoulders as his lips caught hers. His mouth was firm and knowing as it slid across hers, the roiling emotions it left in its wake like none she had ever experienced. Her blood raced and warmth bloomed within her, her entire body responding to the caress of his lips like a bud to the April sun. Instinctively she arched nearer, her mouth eager for him to continue the kiss.
The effect of her nearness on him was no less dramatic for Julian, but while he had never felt such explosive desire before, he recognized the signs…and the danger. If he did not bring a halt to this sweet dalliance now, within minutes, he would have that charming gown up around her waist and he would be securely notched between her legs. With an effort, he tore his lips from hers and set her away from him.
“That,” he said in a thickened tone, “was not why your father left us alone together.”
Fighting off the giddiness his kiss engendered, she asked with credible command, “Why did he leave us alone?”
“To allow me to formally ask for your hand.” A faint smile lifted the corner of his mouth. “We both thought that you might like to receive a proper offer.”
Her resentment returned and turning away from him, she said, “My lord, you are wasting your time. I will be honest: I do not wish to wed—you or any other man. And having you formally request my hand is not going to change my mind.”
He turned her back to face him. “Are you so very certain that you don’t wish to marry me? Do you find me so very distasteful?”
“I could name several gentlemen that I do not find distasteful,” she hedged, “but that does not mean that I wish to marry them.”
Julian grimaced. Aware of his worth and used to being much courted and petted by the opposite sex, he did not know whether to be amused or insulted by her refusal to fall in with his wishes. One thing he did know: he wanted her, and her rejection of him roused the hunter within him. Having her resist him was a novel occurrence for him. He could not remember a time when he had cast out his lures and a woman had made it so plain that his advances were not desired. He smiled, anticipation curling through him. He was going to have to work hard at wooing his reluctant bride…and he rather thought that he was going to enjoy it…immensely.
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