She nodded, taking his word. He could easily be lying and say the same to every woman he bedded. But for her, there was a spark ... and more. There was no denying she had grown atendrefor him.
Tonight, she might rid herself of these fond feelings by seeing his baser side, the one that drove him to such lusty behavior.
“Do you normally bring women here?” she asked. “I don’t mean to your study of course, but to your home. It seems risky for the female concerned, especially if she is a wife.”
She watched the earl sip his drink, his eyes flashing with secrets, perhaps memories of other women.
“In truth, no, my home is my sanctuary.” And he said no more.
“Then why am I allowed?” she asked.
“You came here,” he reminded her.
“You invited me, not once but twice.”
“True,” he said, setting his glass down. “Because you are not like other women.”
Involuntarily, Julia took a step back, unsure if he was insulting her.
“Don’t misunderstand me.” He closed up the space with a single step across the plush gold-and-red carpet in her direction and put a hand on either side of her waist.
“Miss Sudbury, you are unfettered by any parents, at least in London. You are of an age when most women are married or engaged. You are innocent yet the most independent, bold woman I’ve ever met. And you are enticing beyond belief. In a word, you were meant for a tryst. And I can think of no better place than in my own bed, in the heart of my home.”
The heart of his home. What an odd thing for a man to claim. Nevertheless, he had made her feel special. And his fingers kneading her lower back made her feel other things. She tingled at his touch and the sensation spread, maybe helped by the brandy she finished in two gulps.
“Do you think the room is ready?” she asked, then hiccupped. She wanted to get started, sure once they undressed and he began to stroke her, all her anxiousness would dissipate.
He smiled again, a wicked, sensual smile, causing her stomach to flip.
“Even if the air hasn’t warmed yet, we will manage to heat up the chamber nicely.” Taking her empty glass from her, he set it down. Then he paused.
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
He sent her a brief enigmatic look. “I thought to discuss an important matter, but suddenly, it seems less important.”
“I, too, have something to speak with you about,” she confessed. Julia wondered if maybe they shouldn’t simply pour another glass of brandy, stay in his study, and chat like magpies.
Then he brushed his thumb across her lower lip, and she trembled. It was too late to turn back.
“It seems odd to take your arm as if we are entering a ballroom,” he said. “I could pick you up and carry you.”
She grimaced. It sounded most uncomfortable.
“Why don’t you take my hand?” She peeled off her gloves and tucked them inside her bag. When her eyes found his again, she was astonished by his glittering gaze.
“I like the way you strip off your gloves. Most alluring.”
How sweet! How absurd!
She nearly giggled with nervousness, but then Jasper threaded his fingers through hers, and it felt perfectly natural. He led her across the hall to the familiar door beyond which he’d first caught her, knee-deep in trouble.
There would be far more agreeable trouble that evening.
His was a magnificent bedroom, befitting an earl, she supposed. Before, she hadn’t seen it with welcoming lamps lit. The fire was barely visible behind an elegant fire screen and had hardly begun to remove the chill. She recalled the thick Persian rug under foot, but a small table set with claret, fruit, cheese, and bread rolls was now laid before the fire. She supposed that was for afterward, if they needed sustenance due to their ... exertions.
Shivering at the thought, Julia wondered what would happen next and how quickly.
As Jasper shut the door and twisted the key in the lock behind her, she turned her gaze toward the bed. A large mahogany four-poster was prominently centered on the wall to her right. It looked indulgent, luxurious, downright sensual, and almost medieval with a brocade canopy and matching hangings.
