And he wasn’t kissing her back.
Pulling away, she tried to catch her breath. Her throat was bone dry and her palms were damp. Why wasn’t he kissing her back?
“Julius?”
He caressed her cheek with his thumb. “You’ve never kissed a man before.”
Her spine snapped straight. “I beg your pardon! Am I to infer from your comment that my technique was lacking?”
“Yes.”
She gaped at him. “You … scoundrel! A gentleman wouldn’t point that out.”
“A gentleman also wouldn’t fuck you upon request. As you’ve asked it of me, you must know I’m no gentleman.” Putting action to words, he slid his hand off her shoulder and down her body. Slowly, ever so slowly, he cupped her breast and squeezed. His eyes never left her face, assessing.
Moisture pooled between her thighs. Julius’s broad shoulders blocked out the moonlight, and darkness blanketed her like a cloak. It seemed like all the major moments of her life happened in the dark. She wanted this, wanted him. Wanted to feel like an ordinary woman, one who could enjoy a man’s touch. Bedding Julius would be a healthy first step.
Her body clamored with mixed messages. Desire, yes. But the slight trembling of her hands wasn’t only from lust. She leaned into his caress, tried to focus on the sensation, but her throat squeezed more tightly and tightly closed. She slipped away from his grasp fighting back tears of failure.
He raised his hands. “There. You see? You’ve asked for something for which you are not prepared.”
“Was that a test?”
“Yes.” He sighed. “And the outcome was as I expected.”
Shame mixed with outrage. She’d been attempting to expand her boundaries, quavering with the effort of it, and he stood there as unaffected as a teacher delivering a lesson. But the disgrace of it was, he was right. She wasn’t ready. Not tonight. But soon. Tonight, she would retreat and examine her reactions and try to plot a way forwards.
But she had her pride, and it refused to let him see her run back to her room to lick her wounds. “I wouldn’t want you to suffer my inadequate attempts at congress. Perhaps I’ll seek a less critical partner elsewhere.”
She reached the door before he responded.
“Miss Wilcox, as your temporary protector, I feel beholden to insist that you run the name of any potential scoundrels by me before you commence any affairs.” He stalked towards her. “I feel duty bound to investigate their character.”
“And you’d allow me that liberty?” Disappointment crashed through her, and tears burned the back of her eyes. She could never put herself through this with another man.
“Of course. As you point out, there is no marriage bed to save yourself for.” Pausing next to her, he tugged at the neckline of her gown, straightening the lace trim. “Though I don’t think I need worry about it.”
Amanda froze. Surely he didn’t see that clearly into her mind. See that of all the men she’d known, she held him in an especial regard. Even after this failure, she knew she would try to seduce him again, and the tender feelings he evoked would make giving her body that much easier. That didn’t mean she wanted him to know of them.
“And why is that?” she whispered.
“You’d have to leave the house to find yourself a buck. And that, Miss Wilcox, is something we both know you won’t do.”
Chapter Three
“Lady Mary?” Amanda knocked on her chaperone’s door again. “Are you there?” Tugging her wrapper tightly around herself, she hopped from foot to foot, the hall floor cold beneath her bare skin. No Polly this morning with her cup of chocolate, and now no Lady Mary. The house had an empty feel to it. Bleak. Or maybe that was just her own mood.
She looked down at Reggie. The pup tilted his head, and his left ear flopped inside out. Amanda flipped it right and scratched his nose. Reggie was her sister’s foxhound, not yet a year old. With Liz away on the Continent, he had become Amanda’s companion. His warm body snuggled close to hers in the bed was the only thing that helped her fall asleep at night. His paw nudging her leg when he wanted to play drew her from her waking nightmares, kept her in the present. Amanda was fortunate Liz had left her in such good hands.
“Well,” Amanda said, shrugging, “let’s go dress and get you breakfast.” Reggie yipped, in full agreement. Lifting the hem of her skirts, Amanda tip-toed back to her room, her eyes on the floor. More than once Reggie had tripped her up by darting between her legs.
She didn’t see the man standing in her doorway until she’d almost bumped into him. “Julius!” Her heart leapt before she remembered her previous night’s embarrassment. She grabbed the collar of her night rail. “What are you doing here?”
He swept his gaze down her body. Her night rail and wrapper covered as much skin as her day gowns, but with no undergarments constraining her, she felt bare.
“I’ve come to see if you need assistance dressing. Polly is no longer in the duke’s employ.”
“Polly left her position?” She leaned against the opposite door jamb and focused on the faint scar crossing his left cheek. It was the only blemish on an otherwise beautiful face, and after Julius’s rejection the night before, she needed to see his imperfections. His thin blade of a nose, his high cheekbones, spoke of an elegance that Amanda couldn’t match. Even the fact that his skin was several shades darker than any other aristocrat couldn’t hide that Julius was a man of breeding, only one who spent much of his time out-of-doors. She was one giant wound, and that scar of his brought them a little closer.
