Kathryn Smith - [Friends 03] (39 page)

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Sophia gazed around at her surroundings as she cautiously walked in the direction Mrs. Berry had pointed her in. The great hall was soft white-and-gray marble with dark heavy wood that looked to be mahogany. It could have been oppressive were it not for the floor-to-ceiling windows along the front of the house.

The house smelled of beeswax and fresh air and just the faintest hint of something warm and spicy— something baking in the kitchen perhaps. Sophia wasn't sure why, but to her Heatherington smelled like a house longing to be a home again.

Down the corridor she walked, her heart hammering faster and faster against her ribs until she thought it might break right out of her body. She stopped in front of the second door, took a deep breath, and raised a trembling fist to knock.

Julian's voice answered, muffled by the heavy door. "Enter."

Gripping the door handle, Sophia pressed her thumb down on the lip. The latch clicked open and she pushed. The door swung open, revealing a large, bright room with comfortable furniture and a high ceiling, but what captured her attention was the man standing by one of the far windows, his back to her.

Julian turned, the sun dancing red and gold in his hair. The smile on his face faded into an expression of astonishment at the sight of her.

"Sophia." His voice was hoarse. "What are you doing here?"

Summoning all her strength, Sophia smiled. "Hello, Julian. You did not truly believe I would let you walk out on me again, did you?"

Chapter 20
True happiness always reveals itself to those who have suffered enough to recognize it.
An Unfortunate Attachment
by the Marchioness of Aberley

J
ulian couldn't believe she was actually real.

"You followed me."
Very clever, Wolfram. Now count to ten.

Sophia nodded, her dark eyes bright with determination as she sauntered closer. As she walked, her hips swayed beneath her skirts, a natural display of her sensuality. Julian didn't know if he should be angry at her for coming or haul her into his arms and kiss her until he took complete leave of his senses.

He had missed her. It felt as though years had passed since he last held her, laughed with her. He despised her for making him feel so needy and weak, for making him want to beg for her forgiveness rather than offer her his, and yet just the sight of her filled him with such joy it would take him the rest of his life to find the words to describe it.

She stopped just scant inches away from him. Her black gaze compelled him, mesmerized him. He couldn't have looked away if he wanted to. He didn't want to.

"You have an annoying habit of walking away from me, Julian," she murmured, her breath tickling his chin.

"I did not walk away— "

"No. You ran."

Indignation flared. "After Letitia, not away from you."

A thin, black brow rose high on her forehead. "Oh?"

He mimicked her expression, unable to suppress a smile as he did so. "Oh."

She didn't touch him. Didn't move any closer and yet he could feel her body just as certainly as though it were pressed against his.

"You did not even say goodbye. That sounds like running away to me. It must be something in your blood. You and Letitia both have a penchant for it."

He would have laughed at her assessment were it not for the spark of hurt in her eyes. He and his sister had reached an understanding and repaired the rift between them. Now it was time to do the same with his wife, if he could.

"Perhaps you are right," he replied, lifting his hand to her cheek. "But I was coming back to you, Sophia."

Her lashes fluttered at his touch. The knowledge that just the merest caress could affect her so thrilled him to the depth of his soul.

Her gaze warmed. "I could not wait that long."

A gentle smile curved Julian's lips. "Missed me that much, did you?"

"Yes."

That simple admission broke what was left of his already battered heart. His hand slid down, curving around the warm, slender column of her throat.

"I am sorry." He had thought apologizing would be more difficult, but it was surprisingly easy to tell her he was sorry.

Her expression was completely open. "I was the one who lied, not you."

His smile faltered. "What good would telling me have done? You said yourself I would not have listened."

Her expression was one of gentle curiosity, but he could feel her concern, her hurt and her affection for him just as certainly as he felt his own. "What changed your mind?"

"You," he replied honestly. "And Letitia. I had an entire night alone to put things in perspective."

It was her turn to smile. "What did you discover?"

"That you were right. That I was trying to control Letitia's life. I had to let her go to keep from losing her forever."

"Are you all right?"

That simple question, and all the unspoken meaning behind it was his undoing. He pulled her closer. "Better than I would be if I lost you."

"You will never lose me." Her voice was low and throaty. "I'll chase you to the ends of the earth if I have to."

Julian smiled at her. There was something both frightening and comforting in her words, knowing she meant them. There were no absolutes in this life, and Julian knew all too well how cruel fate could be. Sophia could be snatched from him in a heartbeat, just as his parents were. The frightened boy inside him never wanted to have to face that kind of loss again. But he knew what a gift he had been given when life threw them together again. Sophia filled the emptiness inside him and he would rather risk losing her one day than never take the chance at all.

Death was the only thing that would ever separate them, and even then it would only be temporary.

"I am not going anywhere," he informed her, his fingers massaging the back of her neck.

She was so close he could actually see the almost imperceptible change of color between her iris and pupil.

"Neither of us are perfect." There was the slightest tremor to her chin as she spoke. "There will be things we keep from each other, intentional or not. Sometimes we will hurt each other, regardless of how hard we try not to."

She didn't need to say these things. He knew already. It didn't matter. "Sophia— "

"But I will always forgive you, Julian." Her fingers curled tightly around the lapels of his coat. "Can you forgive me?"

"Always." And he meant it.

Her eyes were downcast. "I have not had very good timing telling you how I feel about you…"

"You do not have to tell me. You are here. That's all the declaration I need."

He lowered his head again to kiss her, but she stopped him with a gentle push against his chest.

"No. The first time was just before my father found us. The second time was after you found out I lied to you. I want to tell you now, when there is no chance of you doubting it."

He wouldn't doubt it. It had been his own stupidity that made him doubt it before and he was going to make every effort to never be stupid again.

"So say it," he urged, wanting to hear the words so he could show her how he felt about her.

"I love you— "

Anything else she might have said was lost as he pulled her to him, capturing her lips with his. He kissed her with all the emotion he felt inside, every word he couldn't find to express himself springing from his lips to hers on one inarticulate groan that said it all.

She parted her lips for his tongue without any coaxing. She tasted faintly of cloves and the inherent sweetness that was her. He slid his tongue along hers, over her teeth, flicking it against her lips as though he could slake this hunger inside himself just by tasting her.

It wasn't enough. He needed to devour her.

She pushed him backward and he let her, but he refused to relinquish his claim on her mouth. It wasn't until the hard edge of a sofa bumped against the backs of his legs that he realized her intent, but then it was too late. She had already knocked him off balance.

He fell back onto the sofa, taking her tumbling into his lap as he went.

Sophia straddled him, her skirts settling around them like a fluffy blue cloud. Her knees flanked his hips and he could feel her heat through the clothing that separated him. He had wanted her before he kissed her. Now he was hard as a rock and aching for the relief only she could give. He wanted to take her upstairs, to his room— the room no other woman had ever seen— and make love to her the way she deserved to be made love to. He didn't care how long it took, or how much frustration he would have to endure, he wouldn't rest until she was limp with satisfaction.

Her eyes were hot and black like coals. The hands that had clutched so tightly at his coat slid down his chest, across his stomach and lower, down between their bodies to the falls of his trousers.

"I want you," she whispered, her fingers deftly freeing the hard, eager length of him.

Julian jumped as her fingers curled around his sensitive flesh. His breath caught harshly in his throat as she stroked him.

"Do you like that?" Her breath was hot against his ear.

"You know damn well I do," he growled.

Chuckling softly, Sophia continued to pump him with her hand as she tugged at her skirts with the other. Within seconds, Julian could feel the hardness of his body nudging the moist warmth of hers.

He closed his eyes as she took the head of him inside her.

He clutched at the matching sofa cushions as she took him even deeper.

He bit his lip when she took him deeper still.

And when she settled her weight on his lap, the entire length of him buried inside her, Julian lost what little control he had left. Arching his hips, he pushed against her sweet softness, wrapped his arms around her waist and prayed for this moment to last forever.

Beneath her skirts, his fingers dug into the soft flesh of her buttocks. He tried to control her movements, tried to set the rhythm of her hips. The muscles in his arms strained with the effort, but somehow she fought him and won. He could feel her thighs tremble from the exertion. She was in complete control.

Julian had never begged for release in his life. Male vanity had made him demand the same kind of supplication from lovers in the past, but never had anyone taken him to the brink of such exquisite torture that he would do anything they asked just to experience the pleasure they offered.

"Sophia…please."

She stilled, poised so that the head of his sex pushed against the wet, beckoning entrance of her incredible, lush body. Her face was flush with desire. "Tell me you love me."

The little minx! Julian would have laughed if she hadn't chosen that moment to take more of him inside her slick heat.

"I love you," he admitted, gasping as she slid down even farther. "I have always loved you and I always will."

His words must have driven her to the brink because the next thing Julian knew, Sophia was grinding her body down on his like a wild woman. Seizing her by the hips, he arched his body off the sofa, digging his heels into the carpet until his legs shook with the pressure.

He could feel the tension coiling in her body as they moved together. His own body reveled in it, tightening in response.

Her release struck first, arching her spine as she shuddered all around him. Her head thrown back, she cried out— the most satisfied sound Julian had ever heard. It was so incredible that it triggered his own orgasm immediately, stealing his breath, his sight, even his mind as an explosion of pleasure rocked him. The world ceased to exist.

Eternity passed.

Reason returned some time later, when Sophia lifted her head from his shoulder, she didn't try to pull away— not that he would have allowed it.

She smiled lazily at him. "That was pleasant."

He couldn't help but laugh. She looked like a cat that had just cleaned out an entire pot of cream.
Pleasant
was an understatement and she knew it.

"Yes," he replied with mock blandness. "It was, wasn't it?"

Her smile faded. "I love you."

Holding her tightly he kissed her— hard and fast. "I love you too."

They sat in silence for a few moments, basking. It seemed so strange to Julian that they had fought over Letitia, had spent so many hours apart and not speaking, and now they were in each other's arms, happily sated after making love. It had been so easy to set things right between them.

"You never did tell me what happened with Letitia," she said.

Julian grinned. "You never gave me a chance."

She shifted on his lap, sending a jolt of sensation through his groin. "Tell me now."

"She and Marcus Wesley are getting married here at the end of the week."

He wished he could capture the wondrous expression that lit up her face. "Oh, that's wonderful!" she frowned. "But why are they waiting so long?"

Heat suffused his cheeks under the weight of her stare. "I thought that was how long it would take for you to arrive."

She looked like she didn't know whether to laugh or to cry. "I am here now."

Julian rubbed his cheek against her hair. "Letitia will be pleased not to have to wait. Now all we have to decide is where to have the ceremony."

Lifting her head, Sophia gazed up at him in surprise. "I know the perfect place."

* * *

Letitia and Marcus were married in the family chapel two days later.

It was the perfect place for a quiet wedding. Letitia had been ecstatic when Julian told her he was having the chapel cleaned just for her and Marcus. It hadn't taken much coaxing on Sophia's part to convince him the chapel would be perfect. It would be a happy occasion to erase the bad memories of too many funerals, and with the family plot so close, it would almost be like having Julian's parents and Miranda in attendance.

It was a glorious spring morning, complete with a gentle breeze and birds singing in the trees. The little stone chapel looked like something right out of a fairy tale, nestled in the shade of towering oak trees, and Letitia looked just like a princess.

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