at Julia, sleeping peacefully, oblivious to the arousal he was fighting on her behalf. He would hurry so that Julia wouldn’t awake alone.
Outside, the sun was up, its brightness something Paine realised he hadn’t seen in quite some time. The streets were strangely quiet as well, something Paine noticed immediately, so at odds was the deserted scene with the crowded bustle he usually contended with. Of course it was London and the streets were never truly deserted. Even now, vendors and workers straggled down the streets to work.
Paine spied a milkmaid turning at the corner, no doubt seeking out the alleyway leading to the back entrance of a neighbouring mansion. He followed her. Milk would be a good start to breakfast. If the milkmaids were just coming out, he judged the time to be a little past six o’clock. Six o’clock! Hell’s bells, it was early! The stark realisation hit him with a feeling of disbelief. It had been ages since he’d seen the city through morning eyes. Early it might be, yet he felt refreshed and ready to take on the day.
Three-quarters of an hour later, Paine stood in the doorway of his bedchamber, carrying a tray laden with the breakfast treasures he’d culled from the early-morning vendors. He indulged in the sight of Julia dozing. He smiled as she turned over, starting to wake. Paine set the tray on the low table near the bed and eased on to the bed at her side, waving an orange beneath her nose.
‘Mmm.’ Julia gave a breathy sigh, her eyes opening at the citrusy scent.
‘Good morning, darling.’ Paine reached out to push a tangle of hair back from her face.
Julia stretched, her movements drawing the loose covering sheet down to reveal a tantalising glimpse of a breast, reminding Paine that his hand had lain against the creamy flesh only an hour ago. The erection he’d subdued with his breakfast errand rose in defiance. She turned her green gaze on him, already sharp, not the least bit dreamy from sleep. ‘What time is it?’
‘It’s a bit past seven o’clock,’ Paine said, taken aback by the question. It was not what he’d expected. Most women didn’t ask him what time it was when they awoke and saw him kneeling at their bedside.
But Julia had proven last night that she was not most women and he’d do well to remember it. Most women didn’t invoke the depth of feeling that had accompanied his climax. He’d been tutored in the arts of the sexual sutras, learning the mastery of yin over yang in the arms of India’s exotic concubines. Most women didn’t have the ability to unman him as Julia had last night.
‘Seven o’clock!’ Julia sat upright, the sheet sliding to her waist in her agitation.
‘I know it’s early, but…’ Paine said boyishly, tempted to reach for her and put off breakfast a while longer.
She didn’t let him finish. ‘Early? How can you say that? It’s late. I never meant to stay this long! How could you have let me sleep the entire night away? I thought you understood.’
She was scolding him? She never meant to stay the whole night? She’d meant to slip away after their coupling? Wasn’t that his line? This was all backwards. He was supposed to be the one leaving in the dark of night. He never actually slept when he bedded a woman. He left as soon as he could. Paine stared at her in utter confusion.
‘Julia, whatever are you talking about?’
‘I have to leave. I have to get back to my aunt and uncle’s. With luck, they won’t have checked my room yet.’ She threw an accusing glare at him as if this was all somehow his fault. ‘I meant to be home by two o’clock, long before they came traipsing back.’ With luck, she’d even held hopes of returning to the ball before it was over. The Moffat rout had a reputation for running until dawn.
Her tone pricked Paine’s temper. He rose from the bed, hands on hips. ‘Dancing, deflowering and back by two. That was an ambitious agenda, Julia,’ he drawled.
‘It’s what had to be done and, now that it is done, I have to go and finish what I have put in motion. Ruination isn’t much good unless I go back and prove it.’ Julia gave a belated blush and reached for the sheet, making an effort to rise modestly from the bed with the sheet draped about her. ‘I will just dress and go, if you don’t mind.’
Her haughty tone didn’t sit well with Paine. He advanced towards her. ‘I find I do mind, Julia, quite a lot. This is my home and my chamber. I will not be dismissed from it like a common servant.’ With luck, she’d step backwards and run into the bed. Then he’d have her where he wanted her.
No such luck. Julia stood her ground, even though they stood only inches from each other. ‘You can’t stop me.’ She stared him down, giving no quarter with her challenge.
Paine’s eye caught the glimmer of aqua silk heaped in the corner. A wicked smile took his lips. He let his gaze linger on the heap long enough to draw Julia’s attention.
She instantly divined the plan that had spawned his devil’s smile. ‘No, you wouldn’t dare.’ She barely got the words out and the race for the dress was on.
It was not an easy race. Julia didn’t play fair.
Julia shrieked and shoved a chair in his path to slow him down. Paine shoved it aside and reached for her, laughing at her nerve. ‘Vixen!’
He succeeded only in grabbing a handful of sheeting as she spun out of the linen and darted to put a table between them.
She was fully naked and panting, her auburn tresses falling over the heaving globes of her breasts as she stared at him across the table top. Paine was gloriously aroused. ‘Temptress! Godiva!’
‘Call me what you like, but I’ve got you now!’ she crowed, her anger forgotten in the thrill of the race. Near-triumph coaxed a laugh from her throat as she gave over to the exhilaration of victory.
Paine saw the reason she gloated. The dress was on her side of the table. She simply had to make a dash for it and the gown would be hers. He feinted left, then right, keeping her attention while he made his decision. He would not stand a chance if he wasted a precious second going around the small table. He would have to go over it.
Paine lunged, coming over the table and taking Julia to the ground with him. She wriggled against him, struggling, tantalising with every movement.
‘That’s not fair!’ she protested, obviously wanting to be put out by his audacity, but not quite able to void the laughter from her voice.
‘You gloated too soon,’ Paine teased, enjoying the friction of her naïve movements against the fabric of his trousers where she lay beneath him. He inched forwards and grasped at the hem of the gown. ‘I win. I have the dress and I have you right where I want you, right where you belong.’ He ground his hips meaningfully against her pelvis, his member in an overt state of readiness that could not be overlooked.
Julia angled her head back to see her discarded gown clutched in Paine’s hand. She stretched to reach and take it from him. Paine pinned her gently with the power of his body. ‘Do you think I would relinquish your gown so soon after winning it?’ Paine tut-tutted.
‘Please, give it back to me.’ The earlier playfulness was replaced with a plea. He was alert to it at once.
‘All right.’ Paine sat up, straddling her between his thighs. He needed to be careful not to push Julia too far. Such games of love-play could easily be misconstrued as something more sinister. He didn’t want her frightened.
