“Is it? And what’s to stop me from following you, after you’ve gone?” She knew, even if he wouldn’t admit it, that Strathland was foremost in Paul’s mind. He fully intended to avenge what had happened to her. “You’re not thinking clearly,” she said softly. “You’re acting on instinct instead of logic.”
“I willna hide from him, Juliette. He’s hurt everyone I love, and I’ll no’ hide away outside of Edinburgh while he threatens my family.”
She stilled, realizing what he’d said.Everyone I love.
Did he love her, then? He’d never said it, though she’d suspected as much. The word dug into her heart, for the look in his eyes gave her the truth.
He did love her. And because of it, he was planning to walk directly into danger, to ensure that Strathland never again hurt any of them. As he’d said, he wouldn’t hide.
But that was what she was doing, wasn’t she? Hiding away in this house, running from the man who had taken so much.
“What will you do when you confront him, Paul?”
He stared back at her, his eyes full of hatred and frustration. “I’m going to kill him.”
Her breath exhaled in a rush, for that was what she’d feared. “And when you’re caught? What then?”
“I don’t care what happens to me. He deserves death for what he did to you. A thousand times over. And if I’m the one to bring him to justice, it means that he canna ever hurt anyone again.”
“Iwould care what happens to you.” She took his hand in hers and drew it to her face. “Do you think I want to be a widow?”
He shook his head and shrugged. “I’m hardly much of a husband to you, as it is.”
“You’re right,” she said suddenly. His gaze narrowed, as if he’d never expected her to say it. “It isn’t much of a marriage. You sleep apart from me, and we only see one another at mealtimes.”
“That was the marriage you wanted,” he pointed out. “Or did you forget that we can no’ be sharing more than that?”
“We could, if you weren’t so afraid.”
“It wouldna take much for me to go over the edge, Juliette.” His hand curled against the back of her neck, and goose bumps rose over her skin. He wanted her badly, and she intended to ease the ache inside of him.
Juliette crossed back to the window and drew the drapes shut. “Lock the door.”
The room was dark, the air charged with anticipation. She wasn’t afraid of him, and knowing that their marriage would never be consummated had given her a boldness she’d never expected. He was wound up so tightly, she suspected that if she didn’t find a way to satiate his desires, their lives would break apart.
Her sister had given her a few ideas. And although they were shocking, Juliette wanted to touch her husband. She wanted to see him come apart, feeling the intense pleasure that he’d given her.
“What are you wanting, Juliette?” he demanded.
“Lock it,” she repeated. “I’m wanting some time with my husband. Before he goes off like a hot-tempered lad, to fight an enemy who’s not worth the mud on the ground.” She had his full attention, but he still hadn’t locked the door. So she went and did it for him, taking the key away.
“Juliette, don’t be starting something we canna finish.”
She set the key down and approached him, resting her hands upon his heart. “Will you ever stop talking?”
His eyes grew hooded, and she ran her hands up his spine, watching the way his muscles tightened. It was like trying to melt a stone, and she turned around in his arms. “You left me, the first night we were together. And I never had the chance to touch you the way I wanted to.”
There seemed to be a desperate hunger raging within him with every touch of her hands. When she removed his coat, he reached for the back of her gown. Juliette held her breath, hoping he would like the undergarments she’d chosen. Her sister had promised that Paul would appreciate them.
“How were you wanting to touch me?” he asked.
“The way a wife does. The way that pleases you,” she said, lifting her mouth up to be kissed. His hands were rapidly unfastening the buttons, his kiss turning hotter. She stood on her tiptoes, welcoming the feeling of his hands upon her. When she loosened his shirt and lifted it over his head, her palms went to touch his bare skin. She broke the kiss and moved her lips to his chest, swirling her tongue over his skin. He tore out the pins in her hair, letting it fall to her shoulders.
“Take off the gown,” he ordered, and she lifted it away. When he saw the gauzy material of her chemise and the emerald corset, he reached out to touch the silken fabric. The corset supported her breasts, but the sheer chemise revealed every curve.
“Where did you get this?” he demanded.
“From my sister.”
