She shrugged. “Falling in love. Getting married.”
Rhys continued to search her face. “Love? Are you in love with Murdock?” Why did his heart feel as if it would beat out of his chest as he awaited her answer?
“I want to be,” she admitted, glancing away. “But I’m not. And he said some things to me last night that make me think I may never be able to love him.”
Besides the surge of relief at her words, Rhys couldn’t help the surge of protectiveness that also rose inside him. “Like what?”
“Like he didn’t think it was any of my concern if he moved up the wedding.”
Rhys inclined his head. “Not particularly charming of him.”
“And that he thought it odd that my father asks my mother’s opinion of things.”
Rhys winced. “Oof.”
She nodded.
Rhys took a deep breath. Rain splashed the windows and the wind howled. “For what it’s worth, Julianna, I’m sorry I wasn’t the man you needed me to be.”
She met his gaze and lifted her chin. Tears shimmered on her eyelashes. “Are you sorry you didn’t tell me the truth about your injuries?”
He’d had all night to think about it. Sleep had been no closer to arriving last night than it had for days. “Yes, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. Call it my pride—I simply thought you wouldn’t want me any longer.”
“You were wrong. I had feelings for you and when you left, I…felt as if you’d simply abandoned me.”
He began to reach for her and then stopped himself, letting his hand drop back into the pile of blankets. “I never considered how it all must have made you feel.”
“I understand now,” she replied. “You weren’t even aware for two months, and then you were blind. It’s selfish of me to expect you to have been thinking of me at a time like that.”
“But I should have, Julianna. I realize that now. I should have written the moment I woke up, to let you know what had happened. I thought I was being noble. I thought I was being selfless. Now I realize I was just being a horse’s arse.” He gave her wry smile.
She lowered her chin to her chest and expelled her breath. “I suppose there’s no sense in regretting the past. As you said, what’s done is done.”
He nodded slowly. He couldn’t argue with her. There was nothing left to say.
“Even if we wanted things to be different,” Julianna continued. “There’s no way my father would allow me to cry off.”
Rhys swallowed the guilt and shame that had lodged in his throat. “No, Julianna. You couldn’t leave him for me. Even if your father would allow it. It would be the wrong thing to do.” A vision of Lady Emily Foswell’s face floated through his mind.
“I know, Rhys. I know.”
He reached out and cupped her cheek, sliding his thumb across her smooth skin. “The one thing that’s never changed is how much I want you.”
Julianna lifted her chin. Their eyes met and Rhys leaned forward, closer, closer, until his lips brushed against hers. It was soft, chaste; a kiss between two people who both wished they’d done things differently.
And then the kiss shifted.
Rhys’s tongue tentatively explored the line between her lips, and she opened to him. He pulled her into his arms as their tongues met and a groan sounded deep in the back of his throat. He pushed up the skirts on her yellow riding habit and she wrapped her legs around his waist, sitting atop his lap.
Rhys tried to steady his breathing. Dear God. This was wrong and they both knew it, but if Julianna was to be consigned to a life of unhappiness married to a man she didn’t love, Rhys could give her one afternoon of passion, if that was what she wanted.
His hands were in her hair and her hands were wrapped firmly around his neck. His mouth trailed to her ear, her neck, herdécolletage. Her fingers worked at the buttons of the shirt he’d put on only minutes earlier, and she pulled it over his head.
His fingers worked at the buttons of her habit, which were undone in a matter of seconds. He gently leaned forward, so she would fall back on the heap of blankets. He helped her to pull off her habit and then she was clad only in her shift and stockings.
She quickly divested herself of the shift too and Rhys sucked in his breath.
“Julianna,” he breathed, “you’re gorgeous.” His eyes traveled from the tips of her toes, up her long, slender legs and soft thatch of slightly darker curls between her legs, her flat belly, her perfect, full breasts. His gaze came to rest on her beautiful face.
