Nicole Jordan (14 page)

“I believe I was entirely justified,” Julienne replied wryly. “I held my tongue until she scorned my accent and derided my origins, and then I finally lost my temper.”

Her response had enraged the arrogant Miss Emerson but set amusement dancing in the earl’s eyes. He had returned alone the next day, bent on seducing her.

“I thought you were magnificent,” Dare said, his voice a heated murmur. “I
still
think you magnificent. Why don’t we slip away from here and find a bed upstairs?”

Bending to place his lips near her ear, he breathed in a husky, intimate tone exactly what he would like to do to her if he had her alone.

Julienne found herself shivering in response. Even though she now understood the purpose of Dare’s public game of seduction, it was more difficult than she expected to keep up the charade, for she couldn’t deny the fevered undercurrents of passion that still simmered between them.

But she refused to give Dare the satisfaction of thinking her affected.

Julienne returned a coy smile and whispered sweetly in his own ear. “Do, by all means, go upstairs and undress and wait for me.”

“And will you follow me, my lovely Jewel?”

“Indeed, as soon as I can assemble enough of your guests to accompany me. I want witnesses to observe the spectacle of you dancing to my tune.”

Her offer earned a bark of laughter from the Marquess of Wolverton and had countless heads turning in their direction.

She should have known, however, that Dare would not allow her the last word. That night after the ball ended, Julienne had just prepared for bed and settled beneath the covers when she heard strains of a violin coming from outside her bedchamber window.

Quickly drawing on a dressing gown over her nightdress, she went to the window and opened it—and found herself staring at the sight below. Multicolored lanterns cast a romantic glow over the gardens, while the musicians played softly to one side.

Directly beneath her window, Dare stood posed on the flagstones, dressed in Elizabethan costume, a rose clenched between this teeth. Romeo, if she wasn’t mistaken.

When he spied her overhead, he offered her the rose with a gallant flourish and bowed deeply.

“Ah, fair Juliet,” he expounded in a passionate stage voice, “come away with me and be my love.”

Julienne was hard-pressed to stifle a laugh at his charming absurdity, but she schooled her features to haughtiness. “I regret, my lord, that I have a great disdain for presumptuous noblemen who mangle Shakespeare. If this is your best effort, I am not impressed.”

His smile was part wolfish and part enticing. “You have yet to see my best efforts. Come down here, my darling, and I will proceed to show you.”

Several of his other houseguests were leaning out their widows, gaping, Julienne noted, including Solange.

“You are either dreadfully foxed,” she declared tartly, “or you’ve taken leave of your senses.”

“Both, I should imagine. You intoxicate me and drive me to madness. You are temptation incarnate….”

He turned his face up to Solange at the next window. “Will you not help me, Madame Brogard? The cruel, fair Juliet is determined to spurn my advances.”

“Wicked man,” Solange admonished, her tone laced with delighted amusement. “I should say you are doing well enough on your own. A woman cannot resist roses and moonlight and a handsome chevalier.”

“Alas, it seems Miss Laurent is able to resist me too well.” He clasped his hand over his breast. “I vow my heart is breaking.”

Julienne answered this time. “Then I suggest you summon the doctor to patch it up, my lord, and allow me to get some sleep.”

When Dare staggered back as if he’d received a lethal blow, Solange laughed out loud.

Quelling her own laughter, Julienne shut the window and returned to bed, but she lay there, finding it impossible to sleep.

The music played on for another half hour at least, and Julienne determinedly resisted the urge to return to the window to see if her Romeo had remained as well. But even as she punched her pillow in frustration, some wistful, foolish part of her wished that Dare’s pretense of being her suitor were real.

The weather turned stormy the next day, and the company was forced to remain indoors. When out of boredom someone suggested they stage an amateur theatrical, Dare scotched the idea, saying there wasn’t enough time remaining in the week to do justice to a play and that it wouldn’t be fair to the actresses present, since for them, a theatrical resembled work.

And furthermore, he added laughingly, Miss Laurent disliked the notion of amateurs mangling the words of her beloved playwrights.

They settled for pantomimes and charades and recitations of poetry. Privately Julienne was grateful to be spared, although being employed might have helped distract her from Dare’s proximity.

Fortunately the storms passed quickly, and by the following morning, the sun ended the guests’ enforced confinement. That afternoon, most of them elected to play pall-mall—a game where a ball was driven through a ring on a swivel—on the side lawn, but Julienne chose to explore the gardens instead.

There were formal paths delineated by stately flower beds and neatly trimmed boxwood hedges, as well as meandering walks that led through more natural foliage toward a birch wood in the distance.

To her delight, Julienne stumbled upon a small copse—a boxwood thicket really—that secreted a rose garden. Here the foliage had been left artfully wild.

The charming disarray reminded her of the overgrown rose garden where she and Dare had once held their lovers’ trysts. It was too early for roses to bloom, but she could almost smell the sweet scent. In one corner sat a stone bench, while the center held a marble statue of entwined lovers.

Julienne sank down on the bench and turned her face up to the sun. For a moment she was nineteen again and painfully, wildly in love…foolishly dreaming of becoming Dare’s wife.

She had never expected to be his wife
or
his lover. When he first arrived in Kent, she had wanted nothing to do with him, for she had no desire to become the prey of the notorious rake. She knew Dare saw her merely as a diversion and a challenge—because she was unimpressed by his title and could hold her own with both him and his haughty cousin.

Certainly she never dreamed he would ask her to become his countess. Under ordinary circumstances there was only one kind of future for a rakish nobleman and a young female shopkeeper—and it did
not
entail marriage.

She did her utmost to resist Dare, but gradually his outrageous charm and persistence wore her down, and she fell head over slippers in love with him. In retrospect, Julienne could see that her heart hadn’t stood a chance once Dare set his sights on her. It was his proposal of marriage, however, that had finally compelled her to believe his professions of love, and to give him her virginity along with her promise to wed him.

Yet all too soon the romantic dreams she had cherished lay splintered and broken at her feet, along with her heart.

From the moment she’d first learned of his grandfather’s threat to disown him, she realized she couldn’t wed him. She couldn’t allow Dare to sacrifice his future for her sake, knowing that he might someday come to rue his rashness, fearing he might hold her to blame….

She shuddered at the agonizing memory and bowed her head, suddenly swept by a wave of loneliness that seemed to flood her very soul.

It was some moments before she regained control of her emotions. She should return to the house, Julienne scolded herself, where she wouldn’t be assaulted by bitter memories best left in the past.

When she rose to go, however, she found Dare standing at the entrance of the secluded garden, leaning indolently against the hedge. For an instant, her heart leapt with joy, but she strove to quell it.

His own expression was enigmatic as he nodded toward the wild tangle of rosebushes that covered much of the copse. “I grew rather fond of roses that summer, so I had this planted when I took up residence here.”

Her heart wrenched at the thought of Dare wanting some keepsake of their wondrous time together, so she was glad to have her attention diverted by distant exclamations of glee as one of the guests scored.

“I should join the others,” she said, glancing toward the garden entrance.

“Fleeing so soon?” Dare drawled as he pushed away from the hedge and sauntered toward her.

“There is no point in our being together. Riddingham isn’t here to see.”

“But he will know that we’re both missing, and his jealousy will be aroused. The more his emotions are engaged, the greater likelihood that he will make a slip and show his hand. Stay a while.”

Reluctantly Julienne nodded, but she moved away from Dare, a little farther along the path. Her whole being throbbed with an awareness of him.

Dare took the seat she had vacated. “Is there a reason I find you here alone? You don’t care for the entertainment I’ve provided?”

Julienne shrugged. “I suppose I’m not accustomed to a life of leisure. All your guests do is play.”

“That is the general idea of a house party. And I should think you need a holiday, as hard as you work.”

“But I enjoy my work.”

“What do you find so enjoyable about it? I would have judged you too pragmatic to play make-believe.”

The seriousness of his question caught her off guard, but she pursed her lips thoughtfully, willing to give him an honest answer. “It’s interesting to delve into a role. To become someone else for a change.”

He studied her intently for a long moment. “Escaping into another person’s skin?”

“Yes,” Julienne answered, surprised by Dare’s perceptiveness. Pretending to be someone else banished her demons for a time.

When she didn’t expound further, his sober look faded, to be replaced by a deceptively mild one. “If you feel such a need for escape, darling, then I am obviously being remiss as your host. I can see I will have to provide better entertainment for you.”

Rising, he begin moving toward her.

“I am not interested in the kind of entertainment you apparently have in mind, Lord Wolverton,” Julienne replied, taking a step backward.

His retort held amusement. “Can I help it if this setting makes me crave wicked sex?”

“I suppose not,” she said tartly. “
Any
setting makes you crave sex.”

With a charming, predatory smile, Dare kept advancing. Her heart thudding in her breast, Julienne retreated toward the statue. His very nearness stirred a dangerous spark that flickered along the ends of her nerves, as did his next provocative declaration.

“I would like nothing more than to undress you and lie with you here, Jewel.”

“I have told you before, you cannot have everything you want.”

His gaze was warm, carnal. “I don’t want
everything
. I only want you.”

Julienne halted, her back against the cool marble, yet it was Dare’s look that held her immobile; he had trapped her in his heated gaze.

“You won’t take pity on me?” he murmured. “I am in dire pain, and only you can offer me respite.”

“Dare…” She shivered at the desire that swept over her body at his deliberately alluring gaze.

When he stepped even closer, though, and lowered his mouth to hers, she quickly averted her face. She refused to kiss him. His kisses were far too dangerous, for they seared her, left her panting and breathless.

His lips found her cheek instead, nuzzling.

“Dare, stop this!”

“I think you resist yourself more than me.” He slid the tips of his fingers along her nape, while his teeth scraped lightly along the line of her throat, arousing her against her will. His sensuous touch spoke of pleasure beyond imagining, but Julienne fought desperately to resist.

“I won’t make love to you again!” she protested, her voice already breathless.

His reply was immediate and husky. “You don’t have to do a thing. I can manage on my own. I’ll arouse you with just my hands and mouth, my lovely Julienne.” His voice was now maddeningly sexual. “I want to see how many times I can make you come.”

Even as he spoke, he drew back a little and began unbuttoning the front placket of his breeches. “Look what you’ve done to me.” The ample swell of his manhood sprang free, making her catch her breath. “You’ve made me burn for you.”

Julienne stared at his flagrant erection, at the flushed head gleaming in the sunlight. “Heavens, Dare…are there no limits to your brazenness?”

His smile spread, wicked and lazy. “Scarcely any.”

Reaching for her hand, he guided her fingers to his swollen member. She felt his hot desire lick at her senses, but she snatched her hand away. “You must have lost your wits. Someone could come along the path and—”

“You can see far enough above the hedge to have warning. And no one can see me kneeling….”

The hedge
was
rather high, Julienne acknowledged; they could only be seen from the shoulders up.

Before she could reply, though, Dare went down on one knee before her. “You said you wanted me on my knees. I am delighted to oblige for the moment.”

When his fingers grasped the hem of her gown, Julienne realized his intent.

Their gazes locked. It was a contest of wills, one she feared she was losing.

She wanted to step away, but she couldn’t force herself to move; the lure of him was too strong. All she could think of was the savage ache between her thighs, an ache only Dare could assuage.

When she remained frozen, he pushed the hem of her gown upward in a slow slide of muslin. Parting her legs slightly, he kissed the inner skin of her thigh, his lips playing fire against her skin.

“Dare…” she rasped.

“Hush. You’ll enjoy this, I promise.”

Trembling, Julienne found herself unable to fight him. Dare was a supreme expert at making love, an expert at making her feel sensation. The beguiling stroke of his fingers justified his reputation for finesse and raised a throbbing need inside her that built and grew.

His lips traced a molten path upward, his tongue unhurriedly licking the sleek flesh of her thighs. She drew a shaky breath, helplessly caught in the web of her own desires as he raised her gown to her hips, baring her feminine flesh to his gaze. His own searing breath scorched her, and she reached behind her to clutch at the statue.