The Duke Takes a Bride (Entitled Book 2) (14 page)

I
mogen found
Julian by the living room, peering into the fish tank. No one had bothered to remove it from the coffee table.

“I believe this little fellow here has grown remarkably since the time he got here.”

“He’s thriving. I’ve varied his diet. Some days I give him lettuce. And spinach. Clark loves spinach,” she added inanely.

“Maggie left.”

“In a huff, I’m sure.”

“Don’t worry about Maggie. She’ll come around.”

She settled on the couch kitty-corner to where he was seated. She exhaled heavily. “I hope so. She sounded pretty upset.”

“You know Maggie. She’s always been a little excitable.” He got the little canister of fish food and dropped a few pellets in the water, staring in fascination as Clark wiggled his velvety fins and dove for his breakfast. “Maybe we should get Clark another goldfish to play with. You think he’s lonely?” He shot her a side glance, a brow cocked.

“I can’t afford another goldfish to feed. They grow too fast. Pretty soon Clark is going to outgrow that tank and need a bigger one.”

What were they doing talking about goldfish after that proposal bomb he detonated awhile ago?

“You can have a pond built for Clark,” he said, depositing the canister back on the coffee table and straightening up on the chair to look directly at her, “in Trennery Court.”

Ah. Well played, Your Grace.
“What happens to the pond in winter?”

“I’ll have it temperature controlled,” he assured smoothly. “Clark will have a state-of-the-art pond designed by the foremost landscape artist in the UK. He will be fed nothing but gourmet fish food and organic produce. He’ll have all of his creature comforts to keep him happy. When he’s ready, we’ll find him a beautiful companion so that they can have little Black Moors swimming around happily in the pond and drive Mrs. Black Moor crazy. How does it sound?”

She shot him an arch look while inside she was dying.
It sounds like heaven. And hell.
“It sounds very much like bribery. You promised to give me time to think.”

He chuckled. “How about I convince you with something more immediate? Like breakfast? There’s a corner café which makes lovely panini sandwiches.”

“Lovely. I can’t think on an empty stomach.”

They decided to walk as it was cool and lovely outside. Imogen’s espadrille shoes crunched on some windblown russet maple leaves on the pavement.

A man’s voice hailed Julian.“Your Grace! Your Grace!”

“Ignore him,” Julian said, but it was too late.

Imogen twisted her head and tried to locate the person. She heard the click of the shutter.

“Just keep walking,” Julian warned in a low voice, cupping her elbow and firmly steering her in the direction of the coffee shop.

“Who is the lovely lady with you, Your Grace? Any comment about Lolita Andalus’ interesting condition?” Julian remained impassive, but his fingers dug tighter on her skin. The pap was several meters away, maintaining his distance. Imogen heard heavy footsteps behind them. She swiveled her head and was relieved to find Lopez trailing them.

Several heads swung their way when they entered the cozy coffee shop. A woman whispered excitedly to her companion as they made their way to the table farthest from the window. Their eyes were trained on Julian.

After seating her, Julian went to get some coffee. She stared after his retreating back with a small frown. Who was Lolita Andalus? Was she a model Julian had dated?

Julian came back bearing the promised panini sandwiches. “This is pancetta,” he said, pointing a long, elegant finger at the flat, grilled sandwiches one after the other, “and this is pesto chicken. This one is vegetarian. Take your pick.”

Imogen’s appetite had vanished.

Julian settled back in his chair, took a sip of his black coffee, and gave a small sigh of appreciation.

“Who is Lolita Andalus?”

“You haven’t heard of her?”

“Is she famous?”
If she had dated Julian, of course she would be,
she thought with a pang of jealousy.

“She’s well-known in some circles.” Julian pushed one of the sandwiches towards her, coaxing her to eat. He picked up his coffee cup. “She’s an adult film star.”

“She only appears in movies for grown-ups?”

Julian sputtered out his coffee. He reached out for a napkin and wiped his mouth. “She appears in porn films.”

Imogen thought there was nothing worse than competing with princesses, models, and actresses. But a porn star? This was bringing her insecurity to a whole new level!

The pap said something about “her interesting condition.” “Oh my God! She’s pregnant?”

“She appears to be.” She saw a flicker of anger, or was that irritation? cross his face.

Imogen paled.

Julian shot her a look of concern. “Are you alright?”

“What do you need me for then?” She fiddled with a napkin.

Julian leaned forward, his brow knitted.”What are you talking about?”

“You’re going to have a baby.” With an adult film star. Suddenly everything slotted into place. Why Julian had chosen her despite having anyone he could have. She was staid, safe, and perfect “mummy material.” “Why don’t you marry her?”

Realization dawned. “You think I’m the father of Lolita Andalus’ child?”

“Aren’t you?” she countered, dreading his answer.

“I’ve never met her.”

Imogen adjusted her spectacles, hiding her relief. “Why were they asking you about her pregnancy?”

Julian’s lips twisted. “She claims the baby is Gray’s.”

“Oh.”

He regarded her with unnerving intensity. “The only woman I want to make babies with is you.”

Imogen went hot all over. Her belly clenched and she swore her ovaries tingled. The woman at the next table must have overheard him. She glanced at Julian discreetly, then did a double take. With his blond, tousled hair, chiseled face, and lean, tight body poured into a white sport shirt and khaki colored chinos, he exuded rugged, sophisticated elegance.

I only have to say the word and he’s mine.
Her smug possessiveness was tempered by the knowledge that he didn’t want her as his wife the same way she wanted him as a husband.

“You shouldn’t say things like that when we’re in public,” she said in a low whisper.

His slow grin was unrepentant. “How about in private?”

“Maybe.” She bit into the panini to halt further exchanges in conversation that were turning her on. “Mmm,” she groaned, loving the contrast of the crunch of the bread and the salty, melt-in-your-mouth thinness of the cured pork.

“I love it when you eat.” There was approval in his voice and something else, something playful and wicked in his eyes.

Imogen’s cheeks grew warm. He took pity on her and let her eat undisturbed while he attended to his mobile, which began pinging with alerts. After a few SMS, he shoved it into his pocket.

“They’re probably wondering why you aren’t at the office yet.” It was a Monday and Julian went to work very early every day. He had been absent last Thursday.

“I canceled all my meetings today.” The wicked expression in his eyes was back. A small smile played on his lips. “Told them I had a one-on-one meeting with a possible partner in a new venture.” He leaned back against the padded chair, propped his arms on the armrests, and crossed a leg over his knee, surveying her lazily as if he had all the time in the world.

“Will the meeting take up the whole morning?” She dropped her gaze to the coffee mug she cupped in her hands for warmth.

“I’m positive it will run the whole day,” his voice was liquid and molten, “as well as throughout the evening.”

She sipped her coffee, anticipation thrumming in her veins.

“We have a lot of points to discuss, go over.” His finger traced the rim of his coffee cup.

“Lots of things on the agenda?”

“Loads. Just one primary concern though.” He ensnared her with the devilish glint in his eyes.

“What’s that?”

“Getting her to say yes.”

“
W
as that a yes
?” Julian lifted his head from between her legs as he heard her gasp. She was clutching the headboard, her head thrown back. Her arched spine threw her peaked nipples and heavy breasts into relief. He almost came at the sight. His fingers continued to play in her slick depths.

“You like that?”

“Ye−uh-huh,” she moaned desperately as her legs fell wider apart. “Oh, God! That feels so wicked. Julian, you’re not playing fair!” she cried out, clutching his hair.

“I never said I would,” and he proceeded to demolish her resistance. Julian had no doubts she would cave in eventually. While she was trying to make up her mind (which to Julian was only a token resistance) and playing hard to get, he was getting harder and harder. He bent his head and used his tongue to speed things up a bit. Her scent was driving him crazy.

“Arrgh.” Incoherent cries were coming out of her mouth, and Julian winced at a particularly strong tug on his hair.

“Was that a yes I heard you say, darling?”

“Stop being cheeky,” she panted. “And I can feel you grinning down there.”

“Stop being chatty, darling,” he murmured, enjoying himself immensely, “and just come for me now.” He located that particular spot again that drove her insane and his tongue and fingers worked in tandem. He smiled in satisfaction a minute later as she gave a keening cry, stiffened beneath him, and grew limp. He’d never tire of watching her become undone, over and over.

Julian was overwhelming her. Deliberately. Imogen was not complaining. Oh, definitely not. He was chipping at her defenses one mind-blowing orgasm at a time.

The bed dipped as he flopped down beside her, placed an arm under his head, and stared at the ceiling. They remained quiet for several minutes in unspoken accord.

“What are you thinking?” He broke the silence first.

“My father,” she replied.

“
Je ne regrette rien.”

She turned to him with a surprised expression. “Are you a mind reader now?”

“I think I’m getting good at it with you,” he smiled. “Come here.”

She scooted closer and tentatively laid her head on his chest. Julian ran a hand through her hair, playing with the strands.

“Are we having a post-sex cuddle?” she piped up.

“I’ve never done that before,” he said with some bemusement.

She grasped his free hand and twined her fingers with his. “Then I’m glad to be your first.”

Julian had to swallow past a rock that had lodged in his throat. Her sweet, tender words were slaying him. He was relieved when she spoke again.

“When Father found out he was dying, I was amazed at how brave he was about it. He continued living, doing what he wanted to do. When he died, he had that peaceful expression on his face. Like he had no unfinished business.” She settled more comfortably on his chest. Strands of her hair brushed against his chin like silk. “Maybe that’s what made him so brave. In the end, he had no regrets.”

Julian’s heart rate began to pick up speed. He suddenly felt nervous.

“Be brave for me, Imogen,” he spoke, barely able to disguise the strange urgency he felt. “Take the leap.”

She raised her head and stared at him, her dark brown eyes grave. “What’s in it for me, Julian?”

Her question sounded calculating, but Julian sensed what she was asking was the only thing he couldn’t give. The protection and power of his name, wealth, and security – these were the things he knew in his gut Imogen didn’t give a damn about, so he didn’t say them.

“I don’t know, Genie,” he blurted.
Way to convince her to be your wife, dolt.
He was used to persuading businesspeople to part with their millions, invest in start-up ventures, and trust in his vision, but with Imogen he was rendered incapable
.
“I don’t know what’s in it for you.” And then he spilled another truth, one that came to him just right now. “All I know is it just has to be you.”

She grew taut, and the emotion that shone in the dark depths of her eyes was too much for him. It looked very much like hope.

Hell. He had no business planting expectations that would never bear fruit. He had overcome it once, with Chelsea, but when she walked away, Julian had that secret, shameful fear he would be reduced back to the boy who wetted his bed every night. He wasn’t going to risk it again.

The introspection was too much. He raised himself on his arm and cupped her breast, loving the way she gasped, the way she couldn’t hide her need for him. He was going to exploit it. He moved to his haunches and loomed over her. The underside of his cock grazed her low on her belly and made her breath hitch. Julian flicked his hips, rubbing against her. Her fingers dug into his forearms and her legs fell wide apart. “How badly do you want me to fuck you, Genie?”

Her eyes were glassy. Her pulse beat rapidly against her neck.

“Very badly,” she croaked.

“And how many times do you think I’ll take you, Imogen? And in how many ways?” His voice was the devil’s whisper and his breath fanned her face.

Imogen whimpered.

“I’m looking forward to our wedding night, then,” he dropped a chaste kiss on her lips, wrenched himself up and away from her, and walked out of the door.

Julian called himself a thousand kinds of fool for refusing to take what Imogen obviously offered. But she hadn’t said yes and he always kept his eye on the prize. In the meantime, he had to take care of something that was damned uncomfortable. He started stroking his cock, picturing Imogen’s breasts and the feel of her wetness in his tongue. Fucking hell, he was so close.

The door slammed open and Imogen barged in, eyes blazing.

“That’s low, Julian!” she cried. “Witholding your sexual favors until I agree to your demands.” She had thrown on another ratty shirt and pink knickers. She halted in the middle of the room when she noticed what he was about. She did a rapid about face. Her voice was strangled. “Er-we’ll discuss this later.”

Julian shot from the bed and grabbed her by the waist. “Not so fast, darling.”

“Let me go!” she yelled. He dropped her on the bed unceremoniously, afraid he was going to embarrass himself; his cock had been pressed against her squirming backside.

“Made up your mind?” He quirked an eyebrow as he stood looking down at her by the side of the bed.

She shook her head and froze when she noted his “problem.” “Stop pointing that thing at me,” she bit out a little crossly. “I can’t think.”

He just crossed his arms over his chest and stayed put, trying not to laugh. God, she was adorable.

“You have to give me time to think about your proposal. You can’t withhold sex as a weapon.”

This time he did laugh out loud. “You know what they say. ‘All’s fair in love and war.’” His laughter died abruptly. Did he just say “love”? He felt cold sweat breaking out on his skin. Thank fuck she hadn’t noticed

“I’ll give you my answer when I’m good and ready,” she snapped, eyes flashing.

It took considerable effort not to launch himself at her and demonstrate how always “good and ready” they seemed to be for each other. “Until then, no sex,” he said.

“Fair enough.” She sat up, and this put her mouth at exactly the level of his very stiff cock. “I’m off to the shower now, but a goodbye kiss is perfectly acceptable, I think.”

Before Julian knew what she was about, she closed a hand at the base of his hardness and kissed the tip. He stepped back in surprise but both her hands shot out and gripped his arse. “Don’t move.” She commanded in a tone that brooked no argument.

“Imogen−” he warned as she stared at his erection with a very determined expression on her face.

“This is just kissing,” she uttered primly. “No sex, Your Grace. That’s what you said.” She paused and tilted her head. “But maybe licking will do. And nibbling.”

He grabbed a fistful of her hair by her nape as the wet warmth of her mouth engulfed him. “Fuck,” he swore. She had no rhythm and was clueless, but the random flicks of her tongue and her enthusiasm more than made up for it. “I’m close,” he rasped. A few seconds later, he was there.