He spun her so her back was to him. They stumbled into the bookshelf. A book fell on its side with a bang. Laughing, she twisted halfway in his arms. Her mouth sought his. He splayed his fingers on her jawline and chin. Her chocolate laced kisses were addictive.
Grabbing a handful of her skirts, he raised them high on her hips.
“Yes,” she sighed when he touched her. Lovingly, intimately, he stroked her until she grew restless. “Yes, yes.” Her breath was thready, her body tense.
He kissed her neck, nipped her ear. She climaxed, arching her back and gripping the shelf while making the most arousing noises. As the echoes of her cries faded, he wrapped his arms around her waist. She sagged against him. The sprig of mistletoe was still clutched between her fingers. He placed a kiss to her temple, closing his eyes and breathing in her scent. He wanted to memorize everything about her—about this moment when he no longer questioned his heart. She was the one.
“That arousing little sound you make?” He nuzzled her ear. “I must have been really foxed not to remember.”
She gasped and spun in his embrace. “Julius, I told you I lied about that night. Nothing happened.”
“Is that what you meant?” He laughed. “I thought you’d lied about the marriage proposal.”
“But you believed we made love?”
He shrugged. “Why wouldn’t I?"
She cast her eyes upward. “Did you hear him? He thinks he is heaven’s gift to women.”
“Your words, not mine.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Did you like your um…gift?”
“I’d not refuse it if you wanted to give it to me again sometime.” She aimed a mischievous smile at him and pecked a kiss to his lips. “And again, and again…”
“The work of a generous man is never done.”
Chapter Ten
Bess caught a glimpse of Julius from the corner of her eye as he returned from retrieving two glasses of mulled wine. An overwhelming wave of relief and cheer swept over her. A longer than expected jaunt to the refreshment table was the only time he’d left her side all evening. The strength of her wistful longing during his absence was embarrassing, and yet, completely out of her control.
“For you, my lady.”
“Thank you.” Bess accepted Julius’s offering as guests weaved around each other on the ballroom floor of Lord and Lady Seabrook’s great hall.
“Merry Christmas.” Julius saluted her with his glass. “May this holiday be the catalyst for many years of happiness ahead.”
“Cheers.” She clinked her glass against his without meeting his eye, pretending intense interest in the unfamiliar country dance. She couldn’t look at Julius without smiling like a daft school girl, so she did her best to direct her attention elsewhere.
It was a failed endeavor.
She stole another peek at him, and her heart soared. Up and down. Up and down. It had been like this all day. Her emotions were as intricate as the steps of the dance. With no experience with secret affairs, she didn’t know how to behave. Every time someone glanced their way, her face flushed with heat.
Gemma waved from the dance floor before linking hands with her partner. Her apricot silk skirts swirled around her ankles when they spun in a circle.
Julius moved his head close to Bess’s to stare at the dancers as if trying to determine what she found so mesmerizing. “Are you trying to memorize the choreography? I could teach you the steps if you like.”
Steeling herself, she turned toward him with a smile already sneaking across her lips. He was impossibly handsome dressed in white breeches, dark blue double-breasted jacket, and gray damask waistcoat. Much like the navy gown her lady’s maid had embellished for the Christmas ball, his attire was elegant and understated. Perhaps Quinn and Julius’s valet had coordinated their efforts, although she couldn’t imagine how either servant would know about their association.
“Have you added dance instruction to your list of talents?” she asked.
“I couldn’t be any worse than your first instructor.”
“One would hope.” She laughed, reveling in the pleasure of another person sharing in her disdain for Mr. Livingston and his barbaric teaching methods.
When their party returned to Everly Manor late last night, she and Julius hadn’t been ready to part ways. She’d sent Gemma to bed and held his hand as he led her through the empty corridors of the Jacobean mansion. First to the kitchen to retrieve a tin of shortbread biscuits, on to the wine cellar, and finally ending their journey in the family wing.
The sitting room was secluded but cozy. Red embers glowed in the hearth and easily ignited with a gentle stir and dry birch logs to feed the fire. Seated side-by-side on the velvet settee with a knitted blanket thrown across their legs, she and Julius shared the buttery biscuits and washed them down with a bottle of vin de Constance. Feeling free and at ease, she’d sipped from the bottle. The sweet wine left her lightheaded and loosened her tongue.
They exchanged stories about their siblings from when they were children and laughed over funny predicaments they had encountered over the years. When she ran out of good memories, she’d simply listened. While Julius spoke about his family, she imagined how her life might have been different if her mother had lived. Speculations of these kind often filled her with loneliness, but with her shoulder touching his, everything felt right, like she’d found where she belonged.
Her cousin and her partner spun in a circle before grabbing hands and skipping to the end of the line.
“Who is the gentleman dancing with Gemma?” she asked.
“A distant cousin on my father’s side. Mother said a dozen more guests arrived yesterday afternoon. I believe his name is Roscoe, or is it Rufus?” When Bess pursed her lips, he lifted his hands, the glass of wine clasped loosely in his fingers. “I have only seen him once before today. It didn’t seem important to remember his name.”
“Do you make it a habit of only remembering the names of important people?”
He whispered in her ear, “Yes, my darling Bess.”
Her name rolled from his tongue like a caress, his breath like the flicker of a butterfly’s wing. Gooseflesh raised along the back of her neck as she was transported to the library again. The raw excitement. The flood of sensations ravaging her. His strong arms supporting her while she savored the aftershocks from him bringing her to pleasure. She’d never known intimacy could be that way, like it was with Julius.
“You make it difficult to be cross with you,” she murmured.
“What is this you say? I thought you were impervious to my charm.”
She snorted softly. “You did not.”
“Not after last night, no.” His wicked grin caused her heart to skip. She laughed from sheer happiness and reached for his hand hanging at his side to hook her pinkie with his in a discreet show of affection. Whatever they’d found together was rare. It could lead to something real and lasting. Or she hoped it could. Perhaps Julius felt passion and a deep sense of connection at the start of every new affair, but she’d not dwell on it. For now, she would cherish what they had.
When the country dance ended, he beckoned for a footman to take away their half empty glasses. “I have it on good authority a waltz is next,” Julius said. “Will you dance with me?”