She stared at a point over his shoulder. “We can continue our questioning then.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He reached for the door, yanking it open. “I won’t be late. I wouldn’t want to delay your entertainment.”
Her gaze cut to him. “My entertainment?”
“The intrigue. The excitement of the hunt. You enjoy it.”
She went pale. “My father’s life is in danger. That’s a horrible thing to say.”
“But true nevertheless.” He wanted to soften his words, but this was good for her. Good for the both of them. “You were bored. The spoiled little aristocrat. And while I don’t doubt you care for your father, this was an opportunity you took for yourself, not for him.”
She stepped up to him and poked his chest. “How dare you. You know nothing of my life, of who I am.”
She went to poke him again, and he grabbed her finger. “I know enough,” he growled.
He knew better than to dally with a rich girl who thought it thrilling to have a romance with a bruiser like him. Knew that his career would be over if they were caught. That he’d have to return to the poverty of woodworking, or eke out a few more punishing years in boxing until his body gave up.
And Juliana… She would be shunned from society. She might think she didn’t care about such things, but she would when every friend turned their back on her.
She yanked her hand from his, her chest heaving. They were so close her nipples brushed against his chest with every angry inhalation.
So close that her wine-scented breath caressed his own lips.
“Go back to your poets and philosophers.” He didn’t know when, but his hand had found its way to her hip, and he squeezed it. “Go back to your refined men and stop playing with the commoners.”
“Playing?” She pushed his shoulder, her fingers tangling in his coat’s lapel. “Playing?” Her next push somehow managed to tug him closer. “I would no sooner play with a man such as yourself than I would a pig in the mud. You, Mr. Brogan Duffy, are—”
His anger, his lust, it all served to make his brain desert him. He cut off whatever nonsense words she was about to say by kissing her.
His palm flattened on her lower back, holding her close. He gripped the back of her head with his other hand.
At the first touch of his lips, she sighed into his mouth. And pulled his hair, not letting him forget she was still angry.
Well, that made two of them. The kiss was just a continuation of their fight, a battle using teeth, and lips, and tongues as their weapons.
It was the best damn kiss of his life.
Pleasure gathered at the base of his neck and rolled down his spine. Nothing but the taste of Juliana, her scent, the feel of her soft body against his own, registered in his mind. He rocked his hips against her, needing the friction against his aching cock.
When he came up for air, the dazed look on Juliana’s face sent a stab of pride through his chest.
Until he remembered it wasLadyJuliana he had just kissed the starch out of. Lady Juliana who could end his employment with one word.
He shoved away from her. “This was a mistake. It never should have happened. I don’t want a woman like you.”
And it was definitely Lady Juliana whose chin went up with pride even as her face went red at his rejection.
“Get out.” She clenched her hands, her body trembling with rage. Better anger than seductive little glances. Anger he could manage.
She pointed at the door. “Get out of here. I can’t stand to look at you a moment longer.”
He nodded and pulled the door shut behind him. His shoulders sagged, whether from relief or disappointment he didn’t know. He had finally convinced Juliana of their incompatibility, made her so disgusted with him she would never think about an affair between them again. Perhaps now he could focus on his work.
Perhaps now, there would be no danger of him doing the stupidest thing in his life.
Chapter Eleven
His note shouldn’t have come as a surprise, not after last night. But still it hurt.
