The Accidental Countess (26 page)

“Brother comes looking for you,” said a deep male voice. “I quite agree.”

Both ladies swung around. Julian was standing in the doorway, leaning against the jamb. He looked so handsome Cass wanted to fall to her knees. His hair was slicked to the side and his gray eyes glowed against the dark black of his evening attire.

Daphne cleared her throat. “I think you’re both absolutely right. I’ll just pop back into the ballroom. I promised Lord Cartwright a dance.”

Daphne was gone in an instant, and Cass was left swallowing hard and staring up at Julian.

She took a deep breath and then made to move past him. “I should get back.”

His hand shot out and captured her upper arm. “Wait.”

Cass closed her eyes and turned her face away. “What?”

“I … I don’t know.”

Cass blinked away tears and ran her tongue over her teeth. “I didn’t know you’d be here tonight. I wasn’t following you.”

“I know that. You needn’t try to avoid me.”

“I have to,” she whispered.

“Why?”

For my own sanity
. “Because I … feel guilty.”

His voice was matter-of-fact. “You’ve already apologized.”

“You won’t accept my apology.”

“It’s not that I don’t accept it, Cassie, it’s just—”

Cass blinked away tears. He’d called her Cassie, the special name he used in his letters, the name no one else in the entire world called her.

“Don’t,” she whispered. She’d meant, don’t call her Cassie, but he released her arm.

“My apologies,” he said.

She turned to face him, wrapping her arms around her middle. “Julian, I…”

“What?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what to say to you anymore. I only know it hurts. I feel as if I’ve lost my best friend.”

“Best friend? That’s what I am to you?”

“I thought so.” She searched his face.

“You should go.” A muscle in his jaw ticked. “Upton is probably looking for you.”

She brushed past him again. She had to get out of there.

This time, his hand shot out, grabbed her shoulder and spun her around. She gasped. “Damn it, Cassie. I can’t keep my hands off you.” He pulled her into his arms, and his mouth swooped down to claim hers.

Cass’s head tipped back and she wrapped her arms around his neck.
Yes. Yes. Yes
.

He kicked the door shut with his booted foot. His bold tongue pushed into her mouth and tangled with hers. She moaned. He pushed her up against the wall and kissed her again, again, again.

Cass forgot to think, forgot to breathe, forgot anything, everything. All she knew was that Julian was kissing her. Julian. And it wasn’t a dream, it wasn’t fake or false or in her imagination. It was real. The flesh-and-blood man, all hot and tall and hard and wanting, was standing in front of her, bracing her against the wall, and kissing her as if he never wanted to stop.

He cradled her face between his hands. His tongue dipped into her mouth, owned her, possessed her. She melted.

“Why are you kissing me?” she whispered against his lips.

“I don’t know,” he growled, just before his mouth claimed hers again.

He picked her up easily and carried her to the settee. He laid her down and covered her with his hard, hot body. Cass kicked off her slippers. She wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling her skirts up out of the way. Those blasted skirts.

Julian was unconsciously pressing against her most intimate spot. Again. Again. Again. She whimpered. His hips kept up a steady rhythm that Cass didn’t even know if he was aware of. It drove her mad. The only barrier between them was his breeches. Her shift was up and out of the way and she clung to him, wanting him.

She knew so little about this. Had never kissed a man let alone done anything like this, but she’d dreamed about it. Alone in her bed all these years, she’d dreamed of Julian’s body on top of hers, his lips molded to hers, his hips setting a gentle rhythm. Yes. She’d dreamed about it. But none of her dreams matched the reality of having him here, his warm skin beneath her fingertips, his insistent mouth pressed against hers, his hips moving unconsciously against her in a motion that made her want to scream his name.

Anyone might walk in on them at any time. Daphne might return, or their hostess might come in, a servant even. This was beyond dangerous, but Cass didn’t care. She’d kiss him forever, let him touch her for eternity, or longer. Nothing mattered other than Julian’s hands at her hips, pulling at her naked flesh, wrapping her legs around his waist tighter, groaning, kissing her. His hardness probed at her through the thin fabric of his breeches. She only wanted more, more, more.

He pulled his mouth away from hers and his breathing was harsh, ragged. He pressed his forehead against hers, and Cass fought against the urge to cry out. His hands were cradling her hips, making her crazy. She closed her eyes and pressed her forehead to his.

His mouth moved to trace her cheekbone, her temple, her ear. “Damn it, Cassie. I knew you were pretty but I never expected you to be
this
damn beautiful when you grew up.”

Cass couldn’t help the smile that came to her lips. “You think I’m pretty?”

“I think you’re breathtaking.” His mouth was back on hers. She pulled him even closer this time, her hand moving down of its own accord to trace the hard hot outline of him beneath his breeches.

He groaned and pressed himself into her hand. She rubbed him up and down. Another groan.

His mouth was on her throat, licking, kissing, sucking. She threw back her head and closed her eyes. Nothing mattered, nothing other than the feel of his hot mouth on her flesh. She wanted to feel him, touch him, taste him. He slowly moved his hand between her legs to the scorching wet flesh. Cass moaned. “Julian.”

His mouth returned to her as if to silence her. He kissed her again and again, long, hard, deep. Then he sank his finger into her wet heat, and she forgot to breathe.

Julian’s hot, hard finger moved inside her, and Cass wrapped her arms even more tightly around his neck. “Oh, Julian,” she breathed against his mouth.

He slowly dragged his finger back and forth, back and forth inside of her while she experienced a myriad of emotions and feelings she’d never felt before. She pressed her mouth against his hand. “I can’t—”

“Yes,” he whispered against her lips. “You can. Just let me touch you, Cassie. I’ve wanted to for so long.”

She didn’t allow her brain to register the enormity of those words. She was all feelings now, floating on a sea of emotions and nerves and the most powerful lust she’d ever experienced. He withdrew his finger and she cried out. “Shh,” he whispered against her lips.

His thumb found her then, the most delicate spot on her body, the center of her thighs. He circled her in tiny little movements that made her head toss fitfully against the cushions of the sofa.

“Julian.” The pressure between her legs was building, a feeling unlike any she’d known before. His mouth continued to possess hers and his thumb kept up its gentle rhythm on her most private spot, nudging again and again in the most perfect location. She clenched her teeth. Her brow furrowed. She tugged on his neck, kissing him ferociously. “Julian!” she cried as a wave of delicious shudders racked her body.

Cass floated slowly back to reality. Julian pulled himself sharply away from her and cursed under his breath. Having the warmth and heat of his body gone left her bereft. He sat up on the sofa next to her while she scrambled to right her skirts and clothing.

Cass sat up next to him, and touched her swollen mouth with her fingers. Then her hand moved up to her coiffure. Her hair was in total disarray; so were her thoughts. She would have let him make love to her right here in the middle of the drawing room if he’d wanted to. She would have. She had no doubts. Even now she was a bit disappointed that he hadn’t—

“Go. Now,” he ground out between clenched teeth.

She reached for him, longing to run her fingers through his burnished hair. “Julian, I—”

He blocked her hand with his arm. “Go. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking.”

Cass took a shaky breath. She stood on wobbly legs and smoothed her hands over her skirts.

“Go!” he demanded one last time.

She turned and fled from the room.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Bloody hell. Upton was here. Julian strode through the main room of the club doing his best to ignore the future earl. Right. Upton was a member of Brooks’s. How could Julian forget?

The club was just as Julian remembered it. Stuffy. Smoky. Full of a lot of overfed gentlemen with too much money and too much time on their hands talking about subjects they knew little about. War, for instance.

Since the moment Julian had walked through the door an hour ago, he’d been waylaid by one chap after another, all wanting to know about his battle experiences. Every one of them had got a gleam in his eye when Julian spoke of his injuries. The vultures. All they were truly interested in was what it felt like to nearly die. He’d tell them … It was exactly like something you didn’t want to discuss ad nauseam or, perhaps,
ever
!

Julian took a seat at a card table in the center of the next room and began a game with a few gentlemen. He didn’t have long to wait before Upton came wandering over. The future earl made his way to Julian’s table and stood next to him.

“What do you want, Upton?” Julian ground out, looking up at him through narrowed eyes.

Upton sat next to Julian and took his time lighting a cheroot. “Didn’t think you saw me when you walked by in the other room, Swift. I tried to say something to you.”

“Forgive me. I’m not in the mood for your company at present.” Julian’s smile was tight.

Upton arched a brow at him. “So you
did
see me?”

“Do you have a point, Upton?” Julian tugged at his cuff. The last thing he bloody well wanted to do today was trade inane banter with Upton. After his encounter with Cassie last night, Julian was in the foulest mood of his life. Daphne had told him so. She’d made it a point to inform him on their ride home that she’d never seen him more disagreeable. He was beginning to agree with her about that at least.

Damn it. He shouldn’t have laid a finger on Cassandra last night, let alone all ten of them. He’d meant to tell her that they didn’t need to be disagreeable with each other, instead he’d behaved like a complete animal. Touching her had been its own exquisite form of torture, the kind of torture that was worse than anything the French could dream up. It had taken every ounce of self-control he possessed to keep from ripping open his breeches and taking her then and there on the damn sofa in the middle of someone else’s party. What the bloody hell had he been thinking?

He hadn’t been thinking. That much was obvious. The hurt and pain in her eyes when she’d reached for him and he’d raised his voice to her had been enough to keep him hating himself for months to come. But at least he’d done the right thing, let her go. Cassandra thought he was perfect, or at least she
had
thought so. He was so damned far from perfect, he couldn’t even see perfect anymore. Kissing Cassie last night, hurting her afterward with his words. That proved it. He’d made his mistake, now he had to live with it. He wasn’t in the mood for Upton’s recriminations. He had enough of his own.

Upton blew a smoke ring into the air. “I’ll cut to the chase.”

“Please do.”

“Don’t hurt her, Swift.”

Julian ground his teeth. He wanted to punch Upton. What would happen if he did? He’d get tossed out of Brooks’s on his ear. It would probably be worth it, but he didn’t want word getting back to Wellington. Instead, he took a deep breath. “Don’t hurt
her
? That’s rich. Especially coming from you.”

Upton watched him carefully. “You don’t know the power you have to hurt her.”

She doesn’t know the power she has to hurt me
. Julian lowered his voice so the others wouldn’t hear. “I should have known there was something between the two of you when I saw you coming out of the library that night at the house party.” He had nearly made love to Cassie on the sofa at the Hillsboroughs’ party last night yet she was all but engaged to this man. What the hell was that about?

Upton narrowed his eyes on him. “What exactly are you implying?”

“Now you’re escorting her around town? I expect you’ll announce your engagement any day now.”

Upton settled back into his chair and blew another smoke ring into the air. “If I didn’t know better, Swift, I’d think you were jealous.”

Julian slapped his palm against the tabletop. “You needn’t have come over here to warn me, Upton. I don’t intend to speak with her ever again.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

The letter arrived at precisely ten o’clock that morning. The butler delivered it to Cass in the breakfast room where she was doing a positively halfhearted job of attempting to paint a chrysanthemum in a vase. Her painting looked more like a fuzzy yellow blob than the lovely fall flower, so she was happy to turn her attention elsewhere. Painting had hardly kept her from replaying her time with Julian the other night over and over again in her head. She plucked the missive from the silver tray and contemplated it for a moment before ripping it open. Daphne Swift’s pretty, loopy handwriting stared back at her.

Lady Cassandra
,

I must explain my behavior from last evening. Please meet me in the park at five o’clock at the head of the path near the rosebushes. I desperately need to speak with you.

L. Daphne Swift

Cass furrowed her brow. Then she reread the letter two more times. What could Daphne possibly want with her in the park? It had been quite odd that the young woman had been trying to sneak out the window at the Hillsboroughs’ party, but she’d never imagined that it was due to something serious. Was Daphne in some sort of trouble? Regardless, Cass couldn’t ignore such a letter. She’d always been fond of Daphne. They’d been friends. Cass would go to meet her.

*   *   *