His dressing gown fell open and he slowly lowered her down along the length of his body until she was once more standing on her own feet. The intimate contact sent ripples of excitement through her and left her clinging to him. She closed her eyes again as his arms swept her up into his arms.
He carried her over to the bed and settled her in the center. Then he came down beside her, his legs tangling with hers. He stroked her slowly, his hands closing around each curve, his fingers exploring every hollow.
And he talked to her—urgent, persuasive, sensual words that enveloped her in a haze of heat and desire. Sophy clung to each soft promise, each tender command, each exciting description of what Julian intended to do to her that night.
"You will tremble in my arms, sweetheart. I will make you want me so much that you will plead with me to take you. You will tell me of your pleasure and that will make my pleasure complete. I want to make you happy tonight, Sophy."
He leaned over her, his mouth heavy and demanding on hers. Sophy reacted fiercely, eager to claim as much of his heat and passion as she could tonight. There might never be another chance, she reminded herself. She might be lying cold and dead on the grass of Leighton Field by sunrise. Her tongue met his, inviting him into her moist heat. Julian meant life tonight and she clung instinctively to life and to him.
When his hand slipped between her thighs she cried out softly and lifted herself against his fingers.
Julian's fierce pleasure in her response was obvious but he seemed intent on holding himself in check this time.
"Gently, little one. Give yourself to me. Put yourself in my keeping. Open your legs a little wider, darling. There, that's the way I want you to be for me. Sweet and moist and eager. Trust me, darling. I will make it good this time."
The words continued to flow around her, sweeping her away on a tide of excitement and need that knew no boundaries. Julian coaxed her onward, leading her toward a great unknown that loomed larger and larger on Sophy's sensual horizon.
When he touched the tip of his tongue to her flowering nipples Sophy thought she would come apart in a hundred pieces. But when he moved lower and she felt first his fingers and then his mouth on the small, exquisitely sensitive nubbin of flesh between her legs she thought she would fly into a million shimmering pieces.
She clutched at his head. "Julian, no, wait, please. You should not—"
Her fingers dug into his dark hair and she cried out again. Julian cradled her hips in his big hands and ignored her struggles to dislodge him.
"Julian, no, I don't want… Oh, yes, please, yes."
A shivering, shuddering, convulsive sense of release swept through her. In that moment she forgot everything— the impending duel, her private fears, the strangeness of such lovemaking—everything except the man who was touching her so intimately.
"Yes, sweetheart," Julian said with dark satisfaction as he moved quickly up her body. His hands speared into her hair as he bent his head to plunge his tongue between her parted lips.
She was still quivering with the aftershocks of her release when he drove himself deeply into her hot, wet tightness and surrendered to his own climax.
Incredibly, her body convulsed gently around him once more and, caught up in the throes of the unfamiliar rapture, Sophy uttered the words that were in her heart.
"I love you, Julian. I love you."
TEN
Julian sprawled heavily across the soft, slender body of his wife, conscious of being more relaxed than he could remember feeling in years. He knew he would have to move soon, if only to put out the candles. But for the moment all he wanted to do was lie there and savor the splendid satisfaction that enveloped him.
The scent of the recent lovemaking still hovered in the air filling him with a primitive satisfaction as did the echo of Sophy's words, / love you, Julian.
She had not been fully aware of what she was saying, he reminded himself. She was a woman discovering her own sensual potential for the first time and she had been grateful to the man who had taught her to enjoy the pleasures of sexual release. He would not read too much into words of love spoken under such circumstances, but they had sounded good, nevertheless, and a part of him had gloried in them.
He had sensed the first time he had kissed her that Sophy would learn to respond to him but he had never dreamed that her response would affect him so intensely.
He felt all-powerful, a conquering hero who had just claimed the fruits of victory and was content. But he was equally aware of a violent need to protect his sweet treasure. Sophy had finally given herself to him completely and he would take care of her.
Just as that thought flashed through his head, Sophy stirred beneath him, her lashes lifting languidly. Julian braced his weight on his elbows and looked down into her dazed and wondering gaze.
"Julian?"
He brushed his mouth across hers, reassuring her wordlessly. "That is the way it is supposed to be between a husband and his wife. And that is the way it will be between us from now on. Did you enjoy yourself, little one?"
She smiled ruefully and linked her arms around his neck. "You know very well that I did."
"I know, but I find I like to hear you say it."
"You gave me great pleasure," she whispered. The amusement faded from her eyes. "It was unlike anything I have ever known."
He kissed the tip of her nose, her cheek, the corner of her mouth. "Then we are even, you and I. You gave me the same degree of pleasure."
"Is that really true?" She searched his face intently.
"It's true." Nothing had ever been more true or certain in his life he thought.
"I am glad. Try to remember that in the future, no matter what happens, will you, Julian?"
The unexpected anxiety in her words sent a faint shaft of alarm through him. Mentally he brushed aside the uneasiness her words triggered and smiled instead. "I am hardly likely to forget it."
"I wish I could believe that." She smiled too, rather wistfully.
Julian frowned slightly, uncertain of her new mood. There was something different about Sophy tonight. He had never seen her quite like this and it began to worry him. "What troubles you, Sophy? Are you afraid that the next time you do something to annoy me I will promptly forget how good things are between us in bed? Or don't you like the fact that I can make you want me, even when you are angry at me?"
"I do not know," she said slowly. "This seduction business is very odd, is it not?"
Hearing what had just transpired between them labeled as mere seduction bothered him. For the first time he realized he did not want Sophy using that word to describe what he did to her in bed. Seduction was what had happened to her younger sister. He did not want Sophy putting his lovemaking into that category.
"Do not think of it as seduction," he ordered softly. "We made love, you and I."
"Did we?" Her eyes blazed with sudden intensity. "Do you love me, Julian?"
The uneasiness he had been feeling crystallized into anger as he finally began to perceive what she was doing. What a fool he had been. Women were so damned good at this kind of thing. Did she think that just because she had responded to him—told him she loved him—that she could now wrap him around her little finger? Julian felt the familiar trap start to close around him and instinctively prepared to fight.
He was not certain what he would have said but as he lay there on top of her, alarms sounding in his brain, Sophy smiled her strange, wistful smile and put her fingertips against her lips.
"No," she said. "You do not need to say anything. It's all right, I understand."
"Understand what? Sophy, listen to me—"
"I think it would be better if we did not discuss this further. I spoke too quickly, without thinking." Her head shifted restlessly on the pillow. "It must be very late."