"Julianne…" She could feel him trembling, and her name sounded torn from his throat. But before she could fully marvel that her touch affected him so, he pushed her hands away from him then yanked her toward him, trapping his erection tightly between their bodies, and kissed her. Deeper, more fiercely, impossibly with even more passion than he had before.
A sudden coolness brushed against her legs, and in some hazy part of her brain she realized he'd lifted her skirts. Hooking one hand behind her knee, he raised her leg, settling her thigh high on his hip.
"You taste so damn good," he whispered against her mouth. "And you feel so damn good…" His hand smoothed up her thigh. Curved around her buttocks. His fingers lightly traced between her cheeks, shooting a hot shiver down her spine, then moved lower to find the opening in her drawers.
She gasped at his first touch along her feminine folds.
"You're wet," he said, his voice a growl against her neck. "So beautifully wet."
His clever fingers were relentless, circling, delving, skimming, and gliding, until her every breath turned into a mindless moan. She clung to his shoulders, helplessly writhing against his hand, desperate for more. He slipped a finger inside her at the same instant his tongue entered her mouth, a simultaneous invasion that melted her knees. Need coiled within her, and her hips undulated, desperately seeking the magic she'd experienced last night.
With a deep groan he dipped his knees, curved his free hand around her bottom, and hauled her higher against him. And suddenly his hardness was pressed against her…oh, exactly right there. Her head fell back, and a long, guttural moan rattled in her throat. He slipped another finger inside her, stretching her in the most delicious way, and slowly pumped while he flexed his hips, a thrust that shot such intense pleasure through her she could only gasp into his mouth.
Held tightly against him, his fingers stroking inside her body, his tongue delving inside her mouth, his hot, hard shaft pressed against that magically sensitive female part of her, she simply came apart in his arms.
Molten pleasure pulsed through her, dragging a cry from her throat. He broke off their kiss and with a cry of his own he buried his face in the curve of her neck, whispering her name over and over in a voice that sounded as if he'd swallowed broken glass.
For several long seconds they remained locked in place, both breathing hard, and Julianne reveled in the strength of his arms around her. The feel of his rapid heartbeat thumping against her chest. The scent of his skin mixed with the musk of their arousal. She'd never felt so warm and protected and utterly, beautifully alive. And for that, she loved him.
Everything inside her stilled as those words echoed through her mind, their truth becoming clearer with each repetition. She loved him. She loved him.
God help her, she loved him.
Hopelessly. Stupidly. Impossibly.
Irrevocably.
For the space of a single heartbeat she tried to deny it but realized it was hopeless to do so. He'd captured her imagination the instant she'd seen him two months ago, and every minute since had only built on those initial feelings.
She felt him lift his head, and she leaned back, wondering if she should confess the depth of her feelings, wondering if she'd even need to, for surely he'd see them reflected in her eyes. Wondering if she might see in his eyes even a fraction of what she felt toward him.
The instant their gazes met, that hope died a withering death. Instead of glowing with tenderness or affection, his eyes looked like flat stones. His mouth was pressed into a grim line, his expression hard.
Without a word he set her away from him. Her rumpled skirts unfurled, brushing down her unsteady legs. With a lump lodged in her throat, she watched him use his handkerchief to wipe away the evidence of his release from his stomach. He then shoved his wrinkled shirt back into his breeches and fastened them, uttering an obscenity when he realized one button was missing, obviously ripped off in his earlier haste. She saw the button on the floor, next to her shoe, and bent to retrieve it. As Gideon didn't notice she'd done so, she slipped the flat disk into the pocket of her gown.
When he finished, he raked his fingers through his hair, hair she'd mussed with her impatient fingers. He then dragged his hands down his face and let them fall limply to his sides, as if he were too exhausted to hold them up any longer.
"I'm sorry," he said through obviously clenched teeth. "I didn't mean to…" He drew in a slow, deep breath. "That shouldn't have happened."
A cold numbness crept into her, pushing aside all the warmth she'd felt just heartbeats ago. "Why?"
Finally a crack showed in the granite of his expression, and disbelief showed through. "Bloody hell, there are more reasons than I have breaths to name them."
"I'll settle for one."
"You know them as well as I do."
"Because I'm getting married."
He shook his head and again stabbed his fingers into his hair. "That's only one of them, the one that has to do with my honor." A bitter sound escaped him. "Or what's left of it." He grasped her by the shoulders, and she saw that his eyes were no longer flat. No, now they were filled with unmistakable anguish. And anger. Although she couldn't tell if he was angry with her or with himself. "I told you-I don't take things that don't belong to me, Julianne. It's a point of pride and honor to me. And as much as I might wish it otherwise, you do not, cannot, will not ever belong to me."
"You are not the only one who would wish it otherwise, Gideon," she said quietly.
He released her and stepped back. "It doesn't matter what either of us might wish. The fact remains you are engaged-"
"Not officially-"
"Irrelevant. It is only a matter of papers to be signed. But even if you weren't betrothed, this… attraction between us is completely impossible. You're an earl's daughter. An aristocrat. A wealthy member of society. I am so far below you socially, I need to stand on a ladder and look up just to squint at the hem of your skirt."
"I told you, the trappings of wealth aren't important to me."
"It doesn't matter. You cannot change who you are. Who I am. And who I'm not. Fancy balls and gowns and jewels might not be important to you, but they're a part of your world. And that is something I'll never be-a part of your world. Your duty is to-"
"Marry according to my father's wishes?" she said bitterly.
"In your world, yes."
"And what is your duty, Gideon?"
"To let you do it. To not steal your innocence-or what bloody little I've left you with. The innocence that belongs to you." A muscle ticked in his jaw. "And your future husband."
"You've taken nothing I haven't freely given."
"Nonetheless, I shouldn't have taken it. I'd resolved I would never touch you. Then, after I did, I resolved it was a mistake, one that couldn't be repeated." He shook his head, closed his eyes, and blew out a long, slow breath. Then he looked at her again. "Clearly it is one thing to resolve not to do something and quite another to follow through on that resolve. But I won't fail again. I will not, cannot make the same mistake again."
Mistake. That's all she was, what they'd shared, to him. "You must think me a terrible wanton."
He shook his head. "No. I take full responsibility. I completely lost control of myself."
"A generous and noble offer, but I cannot allow it. I am just as responsible, if not more so, as I desperately wanted you to lose your control."
Julianne reached out to touch him, but he stepped back, shaking his head. She pressed her empty hands against her midriff, realizing that it wasn't just her hands that were empty. It was everything. Her life. Her heart. Her soul. She felt as if she were trying to hold water in her clenched fists; no matter how hard she gripped, it still trickled through until only emptiness remained.