A fire-engine-red blush lit up her cheeks. “No,” she told him softly. “Nobody’s ever done that before. But I’m…interested.”
Julian couldn’t help the smile that came to his lips. “Good. Because it’s something I love to do, and I have a feeling that with you, it’s going to blow my mind.”
Her crimson bloom didn’t diminish, but thankfully her shy smile said she was telling him the truth.
That was enough for Julian.
“So. Let’s get moving.” She turned, and…
“Crap. I wanted to make a confident exit,” she laughed, somewhat mortified. “But I have no clue where the bedroom is?” She placed one palm against her hot cheek.
“No worries.” Julian laughed. “We’ll make that confident exit, together, if that’s okay. How would you feel if I scoop you up again, but this time like in the movies, and carry you to our boudoir?” he asked.
Petula snorted, and in a blink, her embarrassment bled away. “What kind of a question is that? Andboudoir?” she postured, then giggled. “Yes, is the answer. What girl doesn’t dream of being picked up and carried off by her Prince Charming?”
He chuckled. “I’m not sure about charming, but I make a damned good pack-mule,” Julian replied.
Without wasting another breath, he bent down and, supporting her back with one arm this time, he put the otherunder her knees and easily lifted her up to be cradled in his arms.
“Are you sure I’m not too heavy?” she asked, chewing on the inside of her cheek.
“Phht. Compared to what? A pound of feathers?” he teased, and hoisted her even higher, placing a kiss on her abdomen where her shirt had ridden up.
She giggled. “I may be a little ticklish. In a few different places,” she warned.
Julian raised his head. “Then I’ll be extra careful. Now, this is the last bit of seriousness we’re going to have over the next couple hours.” He regarded her intensely. “I want to reiterate what I already told you. If I doanythingyou don’t like, and that includes tickling, youwilllet me know.”
Petula saluted him sassily, and Julian laughed.
“See? We’re already off to a good start. A worthy soldieralwaysshows deference to their superior officer.”
She barked out a surprised laugh as Julian executed a perfect, one heel turn, leading into an over-the-top, parade march toward his bedroom.
Julian was euphoric to have Petula secure in his arms, bubbling over with mirth.
Absolute perfection.
He hiked them into the bedroom, and…
Speaking of perfect.
“Oh, my god. Look what my family has done to this room,” he marveled, turning Petula so she could see. The pictures they’d sent hadn’t begun to do it justice.
Her eyes grew wide. “It’s stunning,” she said.
That was an understatement.
The ladies had dressed the king-sized bed—a huge, four-poster—with a lush, red and gold comforter. Topping it with pillows to match, they’d added turquoises and blues, as well. Itwasn’t a color scheme Julian would ever have gone with, but it really worked.
The large, floor to ceiling curtains that would cover the lengthy windows matched the bed-covers, and someone—he guessed it would have been Bobbie, the visually creative genius—had picked out modern art for the walls that complimented everything perfectly.
The result was luxurious, but not over-the-top in a way that you wouldn’t want to mess it up.No.It was perfect, comfortable, and welcoming.
“I have no words,” Petula added. “I never would have been able to come up with this on my own.”
“Me, either,” Julian agreed. “But… Wait. I noticed you have some awesome art in your house. Who picked that out?” It had to have been her.
She grinned. “Nobody.”
