hell, what would she sound like?
‘I wish I knew what you were thinking,’ she said, biting her lip.
‘There are times when you make it very difficult to be a gentleman.’ He pulled her close and crushed his lips to hers. Her mouth was warm and sweet. Best of all, she was kissing him back with as much passion as he felt coursing through his own veins. He could kiss her all night... Until she moved her lower body against his and his trousers tightened even more. Then the image of sliding himself inside her would not leave his brain.
‘Say my name,’ he said, trailing kisses along her jaw and having the oddest desire to hear his name on her lips.
‘Julian...’ It came out more like a moan as he softly bit her neck.
As much as he knew he shouldn’t, he slid his hand up her waist over the soft fabric of her gown until he cupped her left breast. The weight of it fitted perfectly into his palm, as if she were made just for him. He gave it a gentle squeeze and felt her breath catch in his mouth. Her nipple hardened into a tight bud in his palm. With his eyes closed he broke the kiss, to trail soft nips down the long column of her neck. As he reached her collarbone he pulled on the neckline of her gown and kissed his way along the small swell of her breast, paying special attention to that beguiling birthmark.
Her fingers were digging into his shoulders, and it felt so good. When he swirled his tongue around her sweet, hard nipple she let out a throaty groan that nearly had him laying her down on the table that was next to them. He sucked on it and she softened in his arms. Every subtle response from her body increased his desire to drive deep inside her. The air was quickly leaving the room. It was torture that she was an unmarried woman he couldn’t have. This was an urgency of passion such as none he had ever felt before. He needed to know she wanted him just as much as he wanted her. Even if he knew he could not take her.
He began to edge her skirt up and cursed his gloves, which would prevent him from feeling how wet she was. He let go of her gown and kissed her once more. Her eager response matched his. The pressure of her body moved against him, causing friction. He needed to stop before he disgraced himself.
It took a tremendous amount of discipline to pull his head away from her soft breast and step back. When he did, they were both panting hard.
She was a vision, with her lips still wet from his kiss and her left breast exposed. Much to his disappointment she adjusted her bodice and returned to looking like a very proper lady faster than he would have preferred. His body, however, was not showing any signs of softening. He closed his eyes and silently counted off the British monarchs in chronological order.
‘Is anything the matter?’ she asked. ‘You appear to be in pain.’
He laughed at her innocent comment and cracked open one eye. ‘I thought you’d lived in Paris.’
Her brows drew together in confusion, and then her expression cleared in some form of understanding. ‘Is that why you stopped?’
‘I stopped because had I not, I would have had to find some explanation for the state of my trousers for the remainder of the evening.’
He wasn’t certain she understood. She opened her mouth to say something but suddenly the door opened—and Miss Forrester walked into the room.
His heart stopped in panic and he felt as if he had run a very long race.
It appeared she hadn’t spotted him as she addressed Katrina. ‘I cannot believe you are hiding...’
Her eyes darted to Julian and her lips parted. It was remarkable how quickly she composed herself and focused all her attention on Katrina, completely ignoring him.
‘Considering how easy it was for me to gain entrance to this room, it might be wise for me to remain to lend you an air of respectability, should anyone else see fit to come in here,’ she offered.
Katrina did not appear to be alarmed by Miss Forrester’s presence. Hopefully this meant Miss Forrester could be trusted not to reveal their encounter. As much as he liked Katrina, he still had no desire to be forced into marriage. His heartbeat began to slow down.
Katrina’s attention remained on Miss Forrester. ‘Why were you searching this hallway?’
‘Because my mother was concerned that you were taking an inordinately long time in the retiring room and I offered to fetch you. Lucky for both of you I did. I remembered how interested you were in those paintings the Duchess of Winterbourne mentioned, and thought you might be hiding from the remainder of your dancing partners.’
Katrina rubbed her forehead. ‘How many dances have I missed?’
‘Just one.’
Miss Forrester’s presence had alleviated the pull on Julian’s trousers and it was now safe for him to return to the ball. He would leave it to Katrina to find an explanation for her friend. But before he was able to excuse himself, the door opened again. This time Hart stepped inside.
If this kept up she was sure to be ruined!
Even in the moonlit room there was no mistaking the amused glint Julian saw in his friend’s eye as he glanced from Miss Forrester to Miss Vandenberg and finally to Julian. Hart casually leaned his back against the door and crossed his arms. His smirk was not appreciated.
‘I say...this is interesting.’
Miss Forrester stepped forward, as if to block Hart’s view of Katrina. ‘Miss Vandenberg and I entered the room just a few minutes ago. We were unaware that His Grace was already in here.’
Hart bit his lip and nodded sagely. ‘I see—and what exactly drew you two ladies to this remote location?’
‘Taxidermy.’
‘Pardon?’
Miss Forrester raised her chin and crossed her arms. Apparently she was standing her ground. ‘I said taxidermy.’
Hart rubbed the smile off his lips. ‘I see. And what specimens drew you to this room, exactly?’
She waved her hand carelessly behind her. ‘Birds.’
‘So you have an interest in ornithology?’
‘Ye-e-e-s,’ she replied, drawing out the word.
‘And what particular species were you interested in seeing?’
‘Well, whatever species His Lordship has, of course.’
‘Of course.’ Hart tossed back the lock of hair that fell near his eyes.
He was having too much fun at Julian’s expense. Hopefully he could convince Hart not to tell their friends about this.
Miss Forrester took a step forward, crossed her arms, and tipped her head to the side. ‘And you, my lord. What brings you to this far corner of the ball? There is nothing of interest here.’
‘On the contrary—I have an interest in birds as well,’ he said through a smirk.
She looked as if she was about to reply.
Hart held up
