He wasn’t certain who needed it to be so more—her or him. He didn’t like to see the supremely confident Juliet Windermere doubt herself.
“In some ways,” she continued, “I’m very much like my Windermere cousins. But in others, I’m not. And, sometimes, I’ll find myself wondering if the ways I’munlike them are the ways I’m like Mama and Papa. I’ll never know.”
The words Juliet was speaking to him were words she’d never told another living soul, he sensed. They were feelings that lived in her heart.
That she’d voiced them to him was a gift—one he wasn’t about to take lightly.
She didn’t think she needed a man to protect her in the world—and maybe she was right.
But he did know what sort of man shedidneed.
One to confide in.
One to hear the secrets of her heart.
One who would protect those.
And she had that man.
Him.
On instinct, he reached out and caressed the side of her face, his fingers sliding around to the nape of her neck. He tugged her toward him, and she swayed with the movement. Only a brief instant of hesitation—nay,recognition—and her lips were touching his and a now-familiar spark lit through him. The sort of spark that turned into a full conflagration when he deepened the kiss. It was all the physical sensation of the kiss—the feel of her soft mouth…the sweet taste of her…her specific heat—but it was more than the physical as she moved forward and needed him to steady her so she didn’t tumble over him.
But that was just it. Her naked wanting. She didn’t try to suppress or mask her desire. This honesty was impossible to resist. He would give her what she wanted every time she asked for it.
A feeling of possession streaked through him.
The gift of her was for him only.
Her mouth on his, her fingers found his cravat and made short work of the knot. Then her hands were beneath his shirt, roving across his chest. He gave in to the pleasure of being caressed by her as she gave in to the pleasure of caressing him. She liked all his muscles.
Clearly bent on ravishing him here and now, her hands trailed lower, and anticipation coiled inside him. If he wasn’t very mistaken, she was about to… Her fingers grazed across the front of his trousers, across his hard cock that was full to bursting, pulling a long, animal groan from him.
She smiled against his mouth and increased the pressure, rubbing up and down his length. “Juliet,” he rumbled.
“I like it when you say my name like that,” she spoke into the intimate space between their mouths.
“Like a man on the brink of perishing from desire?”
“Yes.”
Thatyessaid so much more thanyes. “Shall I pull my name from you in the way I like?”
Her pupils flared. “Please,” she implored.
She liked it when he was wicked with her. From the look in her eyes, he already knew her sweet cunny was wet and throbbing and aching for his touch.
In a smooth, efficient motion he secured her by the waist and flipped them around so she was lying flat on his jacket, back supported by springy green turf. He removed one of her gloves, then the other, before taking one of her wrists, then the other, in one hand. “Do you trust me?”
Alongside the desire in her clear emerald gaze twined that other emotion.
Trust.
“Yes.”
Chapter Fourteen
His.