or that sheâd entered the room intent on committing an act of a dubious nature. Truly, it wasnât stealing. She was merely returning the items in the safe to their rightful owner.
Should he make himself known? Julian Burke cursed his bad luck. There were twenty-five rooms upstairs for a lost young lady to wander into, and yet the young lady had picked his, as unlikely as it was, since the room was so far from the main corridor. Well, maybe not so unlikely if she was meeting someone, a young beau perhaps, for a private assignation. The thought of being a party to such an untutored interlude galvanized Julian into action. His decision was made. He would make his presence known and gently guide the intruder back to the main venue. Then he could return to his rendezvous with the portrait and what lay behind it.
Julian raised his dark head over the back of the sofa where heâd taken refuge. âA thousand pardons, mademoiselle. It seems this room is indeed occupied.â
Recognition hit him as soon as the glib words were out of his mouth. What was she doing here? She couldnât possibly have followed him. Sheâd been gone when heâd returned to the veranda. In fact, if this was her destination, he was lucky to have gotten here beforehand. She must have gone through the ballroom, which would have slowed her down quite a bit. Still, such conjecture didnât explain what she was doing here to start with. This wasnât exactly a room one deliberately sought out.
Her eyes followed the sound of his voice until they found him rising from the sofa. She masked her own surprise quite well. âIs this where theyâre keeping the champagne these days?â
âI brought the champagne. You were gone,â Julian replied tersely. He stepped around the sofa and moved closer. âHave you gotten lost? Iâd be glad to escort you back to the ball.â
âOh no, Iâm not ready to go back to the ball,â she demurred politely, moving to take a chair near the sofa heâd just vacated. âIn truth, Mr. Burke, I am hiding from someone. Itâs why I had to slip off and leave you, much to my regret.â She shook her head most convincingly. âWhen I saw this dreadful person, I couldnât bear the thought of being discovered by him. Heâs quite odious in his attentions. I think I shall rest here a bit. You donât need to wait for me if you wish to return downstairs. I doubt anyone will find me here.â
Julian crossed his arms. âTrue enough. Itâs amazing you found your way here, so far from the ballroom.â Her answer was not conducive to his plans. He needed her out of this room. Heâd spent months planning this. He would not be subdued at the end by a pretty, nameless chit. But she showed no signs of moving from the chair.
âIt could be compromising for the two of us to be found in this room alone together,â Julian pressed, finding his patience quickly waning. She had deserted him on the veranda and now she had suddenly appeared again with no intentions of leaving in the near future.
âAs you said, this room is not on the common path. Itâs doubtful anyone will come across us,â she said confidently, then added coyly, âIf youâre worried for your reputation or mine, you could always leave.â
The pretty minx was getting on his nerves. Julian decided to be blunt. âOn principle, you should leave. I was here first.â
âOn principle, you, as the gentleman in this scenario, should leave and accede to a ladyâs wishes,â she said sweetly before adding, âBut principles and reputations are moot issues really after our earlier discussion. Unless I misunderstood you in the ballroom? Was all that talk of strawberries and wool blankets just a gentlemanâs daydream?â She dropped her eyes to a place a lady was never supposed to look on a man while managing to give the impression of demureness. âI thought you were going to try to seduce me and I was going to try to resist.â
Julianâs jaw clenched. It was time to test this dichotomous angelâs mettle. Was she as innocent as she looked, or was she the adventuress her dancing eyes and wicked challenges suggested? He stepped toward the chair she occupied and bent forward, a hand resting on each arm of the chair, effectively trapping her. She caught her breath.
âYou are a master flirt, my pretty vixen. I would be happy to seduce you if you think youâre up to it.â He expected her to push at him. It was what he wanted. Heâd let her succeed and race toward the door. No self-respecting society miss would countenance such a naked invitation. It might be one thing to tease a man so avidly on a dance floor surrounded by hundreds of others. It was a far riskier proposition to flaunt those wiles in private with no one to interfere. Here in the dark, the proverbial safety net was gone.
Instead, she propelled herself into his arms with three little words heâd have loved to hear if circumstances had been different: âThe sofa, quickly.â
Chapter 3
The force of her motion drove them both backward onto said piece of furniture. Julian hit the sofa hard with her on top of him in an inelegant sprawl. Then he heard what sheâd heard moments before: people. Someone else had found the dratted room, two of them with libidinous intentions from the sounds they were making. Good lord, the entire party would soon be ensconced in this most remote chamber.
âDonât just lie there, kiss me, or weâll be stuck here for the duration of their affair.â She jerked her head toward the sounds of the interlopers, whispering in stern, dictatorial tones that didnât sound in the least like the dulcet voice of an innocent young lady. Come to think of it, she didnât feel like an innocent young lady either. The breasts crushed against him, spilling out of her ball gown, were definitely a womanâs breasts, full and lush. Julianâs erection stirred to life. How could it not? She was stunning in the flush of excitementâher breath coming fast, her green eyes flashing, her hair falling out of its coiffure around her face.
Intuition told him she wasnât what her appearance led him to believe. For the first time, it occurred to him that she was possibly a liar, a very beautiful liar. The thought completed his arousal, the proof of which was pressing against her stomach in obvious force. She really mustnât wiggle like that.
Suddenly Julian jerked. The minx had her hand on him in a most indecent way. He was no prude, but he at least liked to exchange names before such proceedings. Before he could protest, she silenced him with an openmouthed kiss. She moaned audibly, her hand running the length of him, taking his measure through his trousers. âOh my lord, youâre magnificent, so big, so powerful.â She gasped and giggled, making every effort to be heard. She lifted her face far enough from his for him to read her arch expression.
Julian smiled. He understood her game, a clever ploy to expel the new invaders from the room. âIt is you who makes me such a stallion, my sweetling,â he parried, nipping at her bottom lip and coercing a surprised squeal from her. It served the wench right for taking his trousers at unawares. She sucked at the delicate lobe of his ear in retaliation. He groaned his appreciation and the game within the game was fully underway.
This venture was quickly becoming less about driving the intruders from the room and more about something else altogether. His stranger was an able partner; nibbling at his ear, stroking him expertly with her hand until he thought he might lose control without even taking his trousers off. That would be a first.
His minx drew back as suddenly as she had engaged. âI think theyâre gone.â Gingerly, she lifted her head to peer over the sofa. Julian decided to tickle her one last time for good measure. He told himself such precautions were to keep up the believable pretense. But in reality,
