C
HAPTER
16
“J
acob, what is it?” Julianne whispered. She hadn’t found sleep yet, so she wasn’t startled when he slipped into her room, but she wished he hadn’t come. They’d dodged discovery the night before. They might not be so lucky again. She rose from her bed and donned her wrapper. “What’s wrong?”
His hands found her waist and he tugged her close. The deeper pull of his body made her melt into him, fitting together so snugly it was as if they’d been designed to click like magnets.
“Why does something have to be wrong?” he asked with a sensual lift of a dark brow. “I’ve been thinking about being alone with you all day.”
Having Jacob all to herself had crossed her mind more than once or twice too, but she couldn’t admit it to him. It would only make what she had to do harder. She pushed against his chest, fighting against her natural attraction to him. Jacob might be the finest thing she’d ever seen, but if she didn’t have independent means, a woman had to care what the world thought of her. Welcoming Jacob to her bed meant she risked losing Lady Kilmaine’s good opinion.
“We can’t do this,” she whispered. “You’re in my bedchamber when you have no business here.”
“You were in mine last night,” he reminded her.
“That was different. You were ill.” She tried to wiggle away from him, but his warmth and strength radiated through the thin layers of his banyan and her bedclothes. She stopped struggling against the undeniable draw. His body put hers on high alert, sending tingles of awareness fluttering through her. “I had a legitimate reason to stay in your room. You needed someone to sit with you.”
“No, I needed someone to sleep with me.” His smile was sin incarnate. “Once we wore each other out, of course.”
He bent and nuzzled her neck, his mouth wet and warm. If she didn’t get some space between them soon, she wouldn’t have the strength to.
“Jacob, please.” She ducked and slipped out of his embrace. “What will your cousin think?”
“She’ll think it’s about bloody time I found someone to care about.”
“Lower your voice,” she hissed. She couldn’t be swayed by his protestation of affection. Men spoke easily of such things when it suited their purpose. “If you truly cared about me, you wouldn’t be trying to put me in a compromising position and embarrass me before your family.”
The only light in the room came from the yellowish street lamp that filtered in her window, but it was bright enough for her to see his dark frown.
“Now just a minute,” he said. “Correct me if I am wrong, but while we were waiting outside George’s examination room this morning, didn’t you tell me you expected me to deal with your
hysteria
tonight?”
Her belly jittered enough to qualify as that mysterious feminine ailment. “No, I think you’re the one who suggested that.”
“Well, either way, it’s a damn good idea.”
His hair was disheveled; his banyan loosely belted enough to bare his muscular chest to the waist. A quick glance downward showed a satisfying bulge beneath the silk. His gaze seared into her, a promise of pleasure. Jacob Preston was enough to tempt a much stronger woman than she.
He must have seen surrender in her eyes because he advanced on her again. She stopped him with a shaky hand to his chest.
“Not in your cousin’s house.” Her body clamored against her will, but Lady Kilmaine had been so gracious, so welcoming, Julianne couldn’t tread on her hospitality by acting like a common strumpet in her guest room. It was bad enough that she’d spent the previous night in Jacob’s chamber. Only dumb luck had kept them from discovery. She couldn’t tempt fate twice.
The roguish light left his eyes. “What if I were to ask you to come to my house?”
“That’s no better. Then the whole world will know we are lovers.”
“Not as my lover,” he said. “As my wife.”
The word hung in the silence that followed for the space of several heartbeats. He couldn’t mean it. Not Jacob Preston, the ruination of so many society matrons even the
London Crier
had lost count.
“You don’t want to marry me,” she said softly. “You just want me in your bed.”
“What if I want both?” He ran a hand over his hair in exasperation. “How the bloody hell do you know what I want or don’t want?”
“I don’t,” she said. “And that’s my point exactly. We’ve been thrown together by chance and this business with the dagger. Then poor judgment led us to tumble into bed with each other, but I really don’t know you at all. And you don’t know me either.”
“I know you better than you think.”
Before she could stop him, he swooped her into his arms and claimed her mouth in a kiss tinged with desperation. His longing turned her knees to water. Her muscles unclenched and she sagged into him as his kiss drained her will to resist. Moist warmth pooled between her thighs. She ached to welcome him, to take him inside her so they could rut each other till she screamed his name and damn the consequences.
“Now, tell me I don’t know what you like, Julianne,” he said when he finally released her mouth to deliver a string of nipping kisses along her jawline that ended with her earlobe. He suckled that needy little bit of skin. Pleasure sparked over her. “Tell me I can’t make you happy.”
His maleness pressed against her belly. She throbbed in response, but she couldn’t give in. “Can you tell me you love me, Jacob?”
“I already did.” He cocked his head at her. “Twice now I’ve admitted I care about you.”
“That’s not the same. I care about a good many things.”
And a good many people.
The girls at Mrs. Osgood’s school were depending on her. If she couldn’t find the last dagger and sell the set, she realized the only way she’d be able to continue to support the school was if she interested Lady Kilmaine and other women of the ton in donating to the cause of orphaned girls who would be cast on the streets otherwise. For the sake of those children, she dared not alienate Viola Preston by behaving foolishly with Jacob while under her roof.
“Caring is not all there is to loving,” Julianne said. “And just because we bed each other well, it doesn’t signify that we are suited for a more permanent relationship.”
His face went stony. “Then your answer is no.”
She nodded, because he couldn’t possibly be serious about the question. She was no green girl. A man intent on bedding a woman would say anything he thought she wanted to hear. Of course an experienced seducer would assume an unattached woman wanted an offer of marriage. “Please Jacob, it’s late and I don’t want to argue with you.”
“Then don’t.” His voice was brittle. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear he was hurt.
“I must ask you to return to your room.” She eased out of his embrace and was grateful he didn’t try to force her to stay. “We both need to get some sleep. Dr. Snowdon is expecting us first thing in the morning and I’ve no doubt what he learns will be useful when I attend the initiation ceremony tomorrow.”
“You’re probably right.” Even though he agreed with her, his features were screwed into a frown. “It may be a long night with the Druids and we’ll need all our wits about us.”
At the risk of upsetting him further, she had to disabuse him of the notion that he’d accompany her to the secret meeting of Sir Malcolm’s sect within the Order. “There will be no ‘us.’ I was the only one invited. Therefore, I must go alone. This may be my only chance to find the other half of the manuscript, and I can’t risk losing the opportunity by failing to follow Sir Malcolm’s instructions for my initiation.”
“No,” he said, forgetting to lower his voice. “I can’t allow it.”
Julianne straightened to her full, if inconsiderable, height. “One of the lovely things about being a widow is making my own choices. Since you are not my husband, you have no say about this.”
“The hell I don’t.”
“Keep your voice down.”
“You aren’t going alone and that’s final,” he said even louder.
“You’ll wake your cousin.”
“I’d wake the queen if I thought it would make you see reason,” he shouted.
Footsteps pattered down the hall. A soft rap came at the door. Julianne’s belly spiraled downward. They’d been well and truly caught.
“Is everything all right?” Viola’s voice seeped through the keyhole.
“Yes,” Julianne answered.
“No,” Jacob said at the same time and strode over to open the door to admit his cousin and her yawning husband. “Tell her she needs to use some sense.”
Julianne wished she could sink into the floor. “I’m sorry we woke you. Jacob and I were having a difference of opinion on how to proceed in the matter of ... the business dealings with which he’s assisting me,” she said through clenched teeth. How dare he expose her to scandal like this! She glared at Jacob. “I don’t think Lord and Lady Kilmaine would be interested in how I conduct my business.” Then she turned back to her hosts, her cheeks burning. “I apologize for the disruption. Jacob was just leaving.”
“Damn right I am.” He pushed past Viola and Quinn, then stopped in the corridor and shot a defiant glower back at Julianne. “When you’re ready to use your head for something other than a place to hang your bonnet, Lady Cambourne, you know where I live.”
He stomped down the hall. Viola sent her husband an urgent silent message and, grumbling only a little, Quinn followed Jacob.
“My cousin isn’t used to being thwarted by the women in his life,” Viola said. “You’ll have to forgive him for being such an ass.”
No, I don’t.
Julianne was too furious with Jacob to forgive. “Perhaps a little thwarting is just what Mr. Preston needs.”
Viola laughed. “No doubt.”
“Since Mr. Preston is leaving your home, I ought to as well.” Sir Malcolm had said she’d be contacted at Lord Kilmaine’s town house, but she didn’t see how she could remain in residence after this embarrassing debacle. Jacob was probably counting on that outcome when he stomped off.
Drat the man.
“However, if it’s not too much trouble, may I stay the night and return to my hotel in the morning?”
“Out of the question.” Viola shook her head. “We don’t want you going anywhere. You don’t need to leave just because the two of you have had a lover’s spat.”
“Lover’s spat? It’s not like that—”
“It’s exactly like that. I recognize the signs even if the two of you don’t,” Viola said, her hazel eyes twinkling. “And I wouldn’t miss a ringside seat when Jacob crawls back on his hands and knees to apologize to you for all the jewels in the Gorgeous East. Quinn and I would love for you to stay with us as long as you like. Please say you will.”
Viola gave her an unexpected hug. Amazingly enough, Lady Kilmaine was on her side. Tears pressed against the back of Julianne’s eyes. She’d expected censure from a member of the ton, but instead she found acceptance.
Whatever else happened while she sought the last dagger, she’d finally found a real friend in Viola Preston.
But despite that, her chest still ached. Her irritation at Jacob dissolved as she realized he was abandoning her. No matter how many friends she drew around her, they’d never make up for that loss.
“Whatever you do, Quinn, do not let her leave with Ravenwood’s factor tomorrow evening,” Jacob said as he shrugged into his jacket. He’d send Fenwick over in a day or two to pack up the rest of his things. For now, he had to get as far away from Julianne as possible. If she’d been a man, he’d have punched out her lights for such willful stupidity. But because she was a woman, he was more likely to disgrace himself by begging her to marry him again. “It’s not safe for her to go alone.”
“Agreed,” Quinn said. Once Jacob had explained about the Order within the Order, his cousin-in-law understood and was completely on his side. “Though I may have to tie her up to keep her here if she’s as stubborn as you say.”
“Just don’t tell Viola if you do.”
“Of course not. Women tend to gang up on a man,” Quinn said. “What my lovely wife doesn’t know won’t hurt me.” He put a hand on Jacob’s shoulder. “Julianne won’t leave with anyone tomorrow evening under my watch.”
Jacob nodded his thanks and tromped out of the town house. Maybe Julianne would listen to Quinn, but he doubted it. A hackney cab rattled past, but he wasn’t tempted to hail it. He was counting on the long walk home to cool his ire.
How could she be so mulish? Didn’t she realize he was only concerned for her safety?
And how could she swat down his proposal of marriage as if it were no more than a pesky fly?
They didn’t know each other, she’d said.
Like hell.
They knew each other in all the ways that counted. She obviously just didn’t want him. Not for very long, at any rate. Or in any manner other than her own choosing.
When he reached the corner, he slowed. His boy, Gil, was there, leaning against the lamppost.