“But—”
“No, Juliette, you will not try to dissuade me from this.”
“I wasn’t going to try. I was merely going to point out the late hour and suggest you leave in the morning instead.”
“As wise as that might be, I am reluctant to do so when Haines may be in dire need of assistance. Making haste is the only reasonable course of action. If I leave now, I ought to arrive there by dawn and save a day in the process.”
Understanding filled Juliette’s eyes, bringing out the green in them. “You are a good man, Florian. Your patients are lucky to have your commitment.” She glanced away for a second before meeting his gaze once more. “I shall worry about you endlessly, however, until you return home safely.”
The confession was the closest she had ever come to admitting an emotional attachment to him, and the knowledge that she cared for him deeply enough to concern herself about his well-being was touching. It filled his heart with warmth and something foreign he could not define.
“You needn’t.” It was all he could think to say in response to the strange discomfort her words had evoked. Because alongside the gratification of knowing she was fond of him, he worried where such feelings might lead. “As you already know, I ought to be immune.”
“Ought to bedoes not reassure me.” Her expression had gone from calm to panicked. “If there is any chance you could get infected, then...” She dropped her gaze and turned her shoulder toward him.
“You were going to suggest I not go?” The concern she was expressing, the angst and the visible pain, made it impossible for him not to reach out and touch her. His hand settled gently upon her shoulder, startling her enough for her to look up at him with watery eyes that undid him in a heartbeat.
Without considering consequence, he drew her into his arms and held her. His face pressed softly against the top of her head so the slightest movement she made caused her hair to tickle his nose. It smelled as though freshly washed with chamomile soap, the herbal scent mingling with her signature peony perfume. The concoction was potent yet calming and so very her.
“To do so would be futile,” she murmured against his chest. “I know this and yet I still wish you did not have to be the one tasked with putting your life at risk.”
Her honesty was humbling. If only he could be equally honest with her. But the fear of what Bartholomew might decide to do, the threat he posed to her safety, held him back. “While I can offer you no guarantees, I do believe I would have contracted typhus by now if I wasn’t immune. My close contact with the sick people of St. Giles while examining and treating them prior to their evacuation should have ensured it.”
She relaxed against him as he spoke, which meant he’d had the calming effect he’d hoped his embrace would evoke. It was time to pull back. Except she still held him tight, as if she dreaded letting him go.
“Juliette?” Unsure of what else to do, he smoothed his hand along her back, reminding himself of her femininity and the extent of his need for her the moment she purred in response.
Damn, but this was not going to end well. Least of all if someone saw them like this. So he lowered his hands to her waist and tried to ease her away, only to have her tilting her head back and looking up. They were close, so close he could see flecks of gold shimmering in her eyes. Her lips parted and only one thought echoed through his brain.
For God’s sake,lower your mouth and kiss her!
A myriad of overwhelming emotions had assailed Juliette during the last few minutes. She’d gone from curiosity, to despair, to insatiable need. The urge to convey how she felt about Florian, the physician, the duke, the man, welled up inside her with inescapable force. Since seeing him last she’d prepared to do whatever it took to make him understand how much easier life would be, if they only allowed their attraction to bloom.
Whether or not he would ever care for her, as deeply as she cared for him, was uncertain, but she knew one thing: she’d met and danced with every eligible bachelor in London and none had provoked the depth of emotion she felt for Florian. She wanted him, even if she had to make him surrender to the ever-present desire glowing in his eyes when they were together. It was there right now, bright and impossible to ignore even as he did his best to fight the course she insisted on taking.
“Whatever your doubts,” she whispered while looping her arms securely around his neck, “whatever your reasons for always pushing me away, I cannot let you go without this.” Rising up on her toes, she prepared to steal the kiss she longed for, but not without giving him the chance to end things between them for good. “If you truly want to avoid this, then now is the time to stop me.”
His breath came roughly as he placed one palm to her cheek and spoke with gruffness. “My power to do so has fled me, Juliette. You are like the sirens Odysseus feared.” Upon which he closed the distance between them and captured her mouth with his.
The feel of his lips against hers was soft and warm, the sensation both unfamiliar and wonderful at once. Relief swept through her, bringing pleasure in its wake. It felt... incredible. More so when he pulled her around and away from the entrance to the room, his body maneuvering hers until she was pushed up against the wall. Pressing into her, his hands roved over her shoulders, her arms, her waist and her hips. “Dear God, Juliette.” The murmur vibrated through her, provoking a sigh that parted her lips and gave him access.
Shivering tendrils of heat shot through her the moment he deepened the kiss, the sensation so utterly exquisite she had to cling to him for support lest she lose the strength to stand. She was in his power, surrounded by his masculinity and answering to it in ways she would never have thought possible. The yearning to feel his hands all over her body was likely to drive her mad. As was the increasing need for more than what a kiss could offer.
“Yes.” She whispered the word when he disengaged from her mouth and kissed his way along the length of her neck. Instructed by instinct, she arched toward him, offering herself to him like a pagan princess on a sacrificial altar of desire.
“You push the bounds of my restraint.” The words ghosted across her skin, erased by the heat of another kiss. “The things I would do if we were elsewhere, preferably ensconced behind locked doors.”
Her hands clasped at his head, her fingers threading their way through his hair with the frantic fervor of a woman in whom awareness of carnal pleasure had just been awoken. “Tell me.”
Muttering an oath, he met her mouth again with greater insistence. The act drew a wanton moan from deep inside her chest, the intimacy of his uninhibited effort to taste her, encouraging her to squirm against him. Trailing a smoldering path toward her ear, he carefully tugged at her lobe with his teeth, sending a flare of heat all the way to her toes.
“I would worship every inch of you until you would not recall your own name.” His hands gripped her hips, holding her to him with firm deliberation. “You play with fire, Juliette. Best stop now lest one of us gets burned.”
Before she was able to adapt to what he implied, he’d released her and stepped away, leaving her feeling deprived and horribly unsatisfied.
“I must be off.” He spoke the words as if trying to remind himself of what he’d intended to do before she’d distracted him. “Go back to your family, Juliette. Enjoy the rest of the opera.”
Gathering some semblance of control over her still-quaking limbs, she quietly asked, “Will you call on me when you return?”
