Julian was unsure as to whether St.Albans had meant sending Georgiana here as a kindness or as a torment.Either way, merely thinking of the bleakness of his lonely existence before Georgiana’s arrival yesterday, and how his life would instantly return to that desolation the moment she was gone, was enough for him to waver in his initial resolve.
“I will give you one week’s trial?—”
“Three weeks,” Georgiana cut in.
“Two weeks,” he compromised, immediately realizing, from the blinding smile that now curved the delectable fullness of Georgiana’s lips, that this was the outcome she had desired all along.
She held out her bare hand to him.“Deal.”
Julian stared at that slender hand and fingers for several long seconds, instinctively knowing that the simple gesture of taking hold of Georgiana’s hand, of touching the softness of her bare skin, would change his life forever.
“Julian,” she pressed softly.
Just watching those plump and kissable lips say his name was enough to cause his cock to throb.“I should not have agreed?—”
“But you did,” she stated firmly as she stepped purposefully forward to reach out and take his hand in both of hers.“I will not disappoint you,” she promised huskily.
Julian already knew that, even as his fingers tightened about her much more slender ones.
Just as he had suspected might be the case, touching Georgiana resulted in a fierce jolt coursing through the whole of his body, emanating from where their flesh touched and quickly spreading to his head, arms, fingers, legs, and toes.
Her skin felt as soft as velvet, infusing a heat that bloomed inside Julian.He also found himself unable to look away from those bright blue eyes that now seemed to have a ring of violet about the iris.An indicator, perhaps, that she was feeling the same desire as him?
Georgiana had already said that she did, and because she had, Julian was going to have the devil’s own job resisting kissing and making love to her.
He had never known another woman like Georgiana.So beautiful, and yet there was no subterfuge or slyness in her manner or actions as there were in so many others.Including his wife.
Georgiana was, Julian freely acknowledged, more dangerous to him, and his heart, than any of the French soldiers had ever been during the years he fought against Napoleon’s army.
* * *
Her name should have been Patience, not Georgiana!
Mainly because her employer and host, following their frank conversation in his study that first day, had chosen to distance himself from her for the whole of the week that followed.
He did so by leaving a list of secretarial tasks on his desk each morning for her to do before absenting himself for the rest of the day.
Nor did he join her in the small dining room for luncheon or dinner.
Georgiana presumed he must eat his breakfast in his bedchamber, but she had no idea where he ate the rest of his meals.Possibly in the private sitting room she now knew adjoined his bedchamber down the hallway from her own.
She knew this because she had asked the butler to tell her how many rooms there were in the house and what their uses were.If he had thought her request strange, he had not shown it by either word or expression.
She occasionally caught glimpses of Julian in one or other of the many hallways of the house.Or as he strode down to the stables to go out for one of his lengthy rides on the dark gray stallion he’d been riding the night they met.She had noticed he sometimes did this twice a day.
Unfortunately, so far, Georgiana had not been quick enough to catch up to or waylay him.
After seven days of this behavior, Georgiana’s patience was running very thin, if not becoming nonexistent.So much so that she knew she would be unable to resist confronting Julian for too much longer for his cowardice in obviously avoiding her company.
It became a habit in the afternoons, once her work was done, for Georgiana to walk down through the dunes and onto the fine golden sand.Because of the flatness of the terrain, it was usually very windy, even on the brightest sunny day, but Georgiana found the brisk, briny air invigorating.Indeed, she was fast growing to love this bleak coastal area of Norfolk.
Today was just such a day.Georgiana bent to pick up another interesting seashell washed up by the surging waves, before studying its beautiful pattern and striations as it lay in the palm of her hand.She had collected a lot of seashells, and some beautiful colored sea glass, during her walks on this private beach, often taking them back to her bedchamber at Moreland Park.
“Pretty.”
She straightened to smile at the young girl who had walked so quietly down the beach.Georgiana had not been aware of her presence until she spoke.
She had met Meggie on the second day she strolled onto the beach.Meggie looked to be fifteen or sixteen years old, the Norfolk burr in her voice indicating she was from one of the local families.She was usually dressed accordingly, in a rough, loose linen gown of a serviceable gray or brown.Her only adornment was one of the bright and different-colored ribbons she always wore to pull back her long, dark hair.
