Justin looked curiously at her, taking in her intense perusal. He bent his head, kissed her lightly on the nose and grinned when she blinked her eyes in surprise.
“Are you all right?” he asked softly.
She blushed furiously and sank further into the covers.
“Don’t.” His hand stayed her retreat. “You needn’t be shy with me now.”
He kissed her tenderly, smoothing the hair from her worried brow. His body quickened in desire. Waking up with her in his arms had been the single most satisfying experience in his thirty years. He could well imagine waking up this way for the rest of his life.
The thought startled him, for what he longed for entailed marriage. Marriage to Jillian. It certainly wouldn’t be looked oddly upon. She was the daughter of an earl after all, and he doubted her scandalous behavior would be remembered once she was his duchess.
The image of his father drifted through his consciousness. He didn’t want to dwell on his father’s words now. Suitable or not, he loved Jillian and he couldn’t fathom being without her. Pushing aside thoughts of his father, Justin concentrated on the present. He had no idea what Jillian’s feelings for him were. She trusted him, though, and that was a start. All that was left was to get her to agree to marry him.
She snuggled against him and yawned widely.
“Shall we go down for breakfast, or take it here in bed?” he asked.
Her reaction was swift. “I—-we cannot have breakfast up here. The servants would know about…what we did.”
He chuckled. “They already know, sweetheart. Edward knows everything that goes on at Whittington. Besides, your maid would have noticed your absence from your bedchamber.”
Her face turned a delightful shade of red.
“Not to worry, they are very discreet. They would never do something so improper as make obvious their knowledge.”
“ButIknow they know,” she squeaked.
He smiled and kissed her again. “Come then, let’s go down for breakfast. Then perhaps we can spend the day together.”
###
That evening they took supper in the sitting room and sat in front of the fire. Jillian told Justin of her lonely childhood and then her departure for finishing school. She hadn’t gone home for the holidays as the other girls had. There was no loving family for her to go home to. With faltering speech, she explained her anger and resentment towards thetonafter her treatment at Lucas’s hand. And of her embarrassment now over her behavior and her surprise at the acceptance and support she gained from Lady Bea and her friends.
Justin listened wordlessly, wanting to absorb every bit of knowledge he could about her. He ached for the hurt and heartache she had endured. Disillusionment had come at a young age for her, an age when most women were still starry-eyed and filled with optimism. She was strong, though, and events that would have broken the spirit of most women had only strengthened her resolve to survive.
They talked into the early morning hours until Justin could see her battling fatigue. He rose, taking her hand. “It’s time we were in bed.”
She gave him a look of surprise. “I thought—rather I assumed I would be going to my own bed.”
“Is that what you want?”
“No—”
“Good, it isn’t what I want either. I want you next to me.”
The look in his eyes burned her with its intensity. Immediately, her body reacted, every nerve coming to life. In one motion he swung her up in his arms and walked towards the stairs.
Once through to his room, he kicked the door shut and deposited her on the bed.
“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” he said looking down at her. “But I very much want you beside me.”
Emboldened by the desire so evident in his eyes, she sat up on the bed and then rose to stand before him.
“Do you like it when I touch you here?” she asked, reaching out and brushing her fingers across the bulge in his trousers. She heard his swift intake of breath.
“I like it very much,” he managed to say.
She looked curiously at him as her fingers grew bolder. His eyes smoldered, his breaths coming in rapid bursts. Her hands loosened his pants and then her fingers delved inside. He flinched as her hand made contact with his hardness.
