Miss Foster’s Folly (24 page)

Millie placed her hand over her chest. “I’ll gladly help him practice.”

“There’s the spirit.” She squeezed Millie’s hand. “Another thing—allow yourself to try things that may seem, well, odd.”

Millie leaned toward her. “Like what?”

“For one thing, kisses,” she answered. “In very intimate places.”

Her friend’s eyes went wide. “How intimate?”

“The most intimate.”

“Oh, my.” Millie swallowed hard. “Has Lord Derrington done that to you?”

“He has, and I’ve done it to him.”

“Oh, Juliet.”

“Trust me. It creates the most intense sensations.”

“I’ve never thought of dealing with a man’s—”

“—cock”

“…cock in that way.”

“Another thing,” Juliet said. “Praise his member. Tell him how beautiful it is and how large. Men are very vain about that.”

“I’ll remember all that, and thank you.” Millie sat quietly for a moment, a look of wonder on her face. “It’s all so much. I never expected at my age that a man would take an interest in me.”

“Why in hell not?” Juliet answered. “You’re beautiful and intelligent. You have a loving disposition.”

“And I’m poor, over thirty, and a virgin.”

“According to Derrington, Mr. Wently doesn’t need money. He’s over thirty himself. And he’ll treasure your innocence.”

“Did Lord Derrington treasure yours?”

The question caught her by surprise, making her breath catch in her throat. She hadn’t thought of that night in that way. The sex had been part of a game of dominance—which one of them would have his way. The physical sensations had stolen her breath. So magnificent. More than she could have dreamed possible if she hadn’t lived it herself. But, treasure? Reverence? A sense of crossing over an important boundary she could never re-cross? No. Had she missed all that?

And yet, he’d been so careful with her. Bathing her and drying her. Then, denying her the invasion of his body into hers until he’d made her wild with wanting him. All that said something about his feelings, and she’d completely missed it at the time.

“I’ve said something wrong,” Millie said.

“No, really.”

“You look unhappy again, as if you’ll cry.”

“Don’t be silly.” Juliet forced a smile. “I just never imagined we’d be switching roles like this.”

Millie’s brows knitted. “Roles?”

“You’ve always mothered me, trying to make me see reason and behave myself.”

“Ha. I’ve never managed that very well,” Millie said.

“Still, I’ve loved you for it,” Juliet said. “Now, here I am playing mother and telling you what to expect from a husband.”

“I wish your mother had lived to do that for you.”

“I wish the same for you. We’ll have to muddle through as best we can.”

Millie threw her arms around Juliet, and the two women hugged. They’d done that often enough over the years, but this night was different. Until now, neither of them had grown into women, not fully. Now they had.

A soft sound came from the doorway. Footsteps moving away. Millie found him first. Derrington at the threshold, turning to leave.

“Lord Derrington, please don’t go,” Millie said.

“I only came to wish Miss Foster a good night,” he said.

“Millie’s innocent, but she’s not a fool,” Juliet said. “We all know why you’re here. You are here for that, aren’t you?”

“Guilty as charged.” He straightened and lifted his chin. “I’m here for immoral purposes.”

Millie giggled.

“Of course, if the lady in question would marry me, they wouldn’t be immoral,” he added.

“I’ll leave you to them, then.” Millie rose.

“I don’t want to interrupt,” he said. “I can come back later.”

“We’ve settled everything, haven’t we, Juliet?” Millie said.

“As much as we can in one night.”

Millie went to leave, but when she got to Derrington, she stopped and put her hand on his arm. As quick as the flutter of a hummingbird, she went up on tiptoe and planted a chaste kiss on his cheek. Then she scurried from the room and closed the door behind here.

“I wonder what that was for,” he said.

“For being a nice man,” Juliet answered. “At least, she thinks you’re nice.”

“Ah, but we know better, don’t we?”

“You’re a seducer and a rake,” she said.

He approached the bed and sat next to her. “A brute and a cad.”

“The worst sort of profligate imaginable.”

He guided her onto her back and loomed over her. “The sort of bastard who skulks in a lady’s room and steals her innocence.”

He kissed her briefly, a soft tangling of lips and then smiled down at her. “I don’t know how I live with myself.”

She stroked the side of his face and gazed up at him.

“What were you two talking about when I came in?” he asked.

“What do women always talk about?” she said. “Men.”

“Wently’s declared himself, I gather.”

“Yes, and Millie will accept his proposal soon.”

His features grew serious. “I wish you’d do that for me.”

“You’ve already asked me to marry you today.”

“I’m not joking about it anymore, Juliet. I love your rebellious nature, but now, you’re being ridiculous.”

“Please, no more of the Winslow Curse and Lady Derrington getting what she wants.”

He took her chin in his hand, and held her face still so that she had to look into his eyes. Anger flashed there. Not the sort of display of a man who’d been thwarted, as she’d seen at the orchid greenhouse, but the honest expression of someone who’s had enough and won’t tolerate much more.

“I love you, damn it,” he said. “And you love me, too, even though you won’t admit it.”

“How do you know what’s in my heart?”

“Because your body tells me every time I touch you,” he said. “You’re being dishonest, and you’re better than that.”

“Are you going to spank me again?”

“Bloody hell.” He sat up abruptly and threw his legs over the side of the bed, turning his back to her.

She stared at him, the tension in his shoulders, the way he’d clenched his hands into fists against the mattress. She really had tried his patience. How many men would put up with proposing marriage over and over without getting a response?

She reached up to touch him. “I’m sorry. I’m really very sorry.”

He looked over his shoulder at her. “Juliet, something’s wrong. Tell me what it is.”

“Nothing.”

“Stop denying it. There was a real sadness in the air between you and your friend.”

“Just wistfulness. Crying at weddings sort of thing.”

He lifted a brow and stared at her.

“I’m tired. A little out of sorts.” Fuzzy-minded. The cloud closed in around her brain again.

He sighed. “Take off your nightdress. I’ll give you a back rub.”

She scrambled out of the gown and tossed it onto the floor and then stretched out on her stomach. Her breasts pressed into the coverlet, feeling full and extra sensitive.

His hands went to her shoulders and massaged them, working out kinks she hadn’t realized were there. She stretched and groaned with pleasure. He moved lower, pressing his thumbs against her spine and kneading her flesh with strong fingers.

“Can I ask you something, David?” she said.

“Of course.”

“You remember that afternoon in the gazebo.”

He made a low noise of approval in his throat. “I’m not likely to forget that.”

“When you’d finished, I took your handkerchief and cleaned you up.”

“I’d spurted semen everywhere.”

“What did you do with the handkerchief?”

His hands paused. “Do?”

“You put it beside you on the bench, but when we left the gazebo, it was gone.”

His fingers dug into her ribs as he continued soothing her tense muscles. “I slipped it into my pocket while you weren’t watching.”

“Did you give it to your valet to be washed?”

“No,” he said. “I tucked it in a drawer. I still have it.”

“That seems like an odd keepsake.”

“It’s hard to explain.” His hands released her, and the bed moved as he sat back on his haunches. “You were so precious that day. So curious. You worked so hard to please me.”

“It wasn’t hard,” she said. “I wanted to satisfy you.”

“I won’t lie about my history. I’ve known many women. Some have even done that for me. None ever took as much innocent pride in doing it.”

“Oh, God, I’ve been such an ass.”

“Juliet?” He scrambled onto his side next to her and lifted her chin so she had to look at him. Somehow after she’d stretched out and before he’d started the massage, he’d gotten out of his robe and nightshirt, so the two of them lay naked only inches apart.

“What’s wrong, darling?” he said.

“The first time we made love, you took such pains to make things perfect for me, and I wasn’t even paying attention,” she said.

“Oh, you were paying attention, I guarantee you that. In the bathtub and the bed and the next morning. I had your full attention, all right.”

“That’s not what I mean.” She thumped a fist against his chest. Her eyes grew moist, and her vision blurred. Curse it all, the stupid tears had come back. “It was my first time, and I treated it like a game.”

“You’re crying.” He brushed wetness from her cheek. “It’s not like you to cry.”

“I felt so smug about winning something from you, I didn’t realize what was happening. There were feelings involved, and I didn’t care.”

“Of course, there were feelings involved, at least on my end,” he said. “That’s no reason to torment yourself.”

“Did you…” Her voice broke on a sob. She took a shuddering breath and tried again. “Did you love me that first time?”

“We’ve been through this before,” he said. “I loved you, yes, but not as much as later.”

“When did you fall in love with me?” she said. “Tell me honestly.”

“That night, when you fell asleep in my arms.”

“You see?” she wailed. “I’m an ass.”

“Juliet, darling, hush. I can’t stand to see you cry.”

“I’ll stop. I promise.” She did manage to stifle the sobs, but her eyes took that as their clue to pick up their own contribution to this ridiculous state of affairs. What in hell did she have to be unhappy about? She had half the money in the world and the most romantic man in all creation demanding that she marry him. In fact, she had him naked in her bed—the place where she discovered more delights in his arms than any woman had a right to aspire to. Still, she couldn’t stop the tears.

“I think I know what will make you feel better,” he said, as he parted her legs and took his position between them. The darling man had managed to get hard, despite her waterworks, and the head of his cock slid between her pussy lips, begging for entrance.

“Oh, yes, please,” she said.

He entered her in one smooth thrust until she’d taken all of him, right to the base of his member. A gasp escaped her at the discovery—once again—of how he filled her so perfectly. As he began a slow rocking motion into her, out, and back in again, he covered her face with kisses, drinking up her tears.

“Don’t ever cry again, Juliet,” he said. “It tears my heart out.”

“Never. Not with you inside me.”

She wrapped her legs around him, holding him close. He could fix everything by making love to her. Here, in this private universe he’d created for the two of them, no doubts could enter. Here, in this divine intersection of space and time, he loved her and would always love her and would never turn away.

He gazed down into her face as his hardness stroked the inner walls of her sex. “Look at me.”

“I am.”

“No, really, look at me.”

“I see you, David.”

He groaned, and his eyes nearly closed as an expression of intense pleasure washed over his features. Then, he was staring at her again, the heat of his need burning in his gaze.

“I love you, Juliet,” he said.

“I know.”

“You love me, too.”

“I know that, too.” She did love him. How could she not? Even if her head denied it, her body told the truth. Her heart soared free at the confession, no longer constricted by trying to hide what it had known since the first time she’d taken his body into hers. He’d claimed it that first night, right here in this bed. She should have admitted the truth to him long before. Thank heaven, he’d waited for her.

“Say it,” he whispered.

“I love you, David.”

He moved faster, plunging into her in the way he knew would strike the spark that would send her up in flames. “Say it again.”

“I love you, David Winslow.”

“Again.”

“I love you. I love you. I love you.”

“Thank God!” he cried. “Finally.”

The currents swirled deep inside her, tossing her up toward the crest.

“Don’t stop,” she gasped.

“Never,” he answered as he plunged into her.

She hung onto his shoulders and kept her legs tight around him as she moved to meet his thrusts. So close. So close. “Now. I’m going to spend.”

“Look into my face as you do. Tell me you love me.”

“Yes,” she shouted as the climax hit. “I love you…oh!”

Then, she could only cry out as the spasms wracked her, stealing her reason. Nothing existed but the pounding of his cock inside her while her pussy grasped and grasped at its length.

He shouted, too—a cry of victory and male possession—as he spilled his seed into her. The two of them clutched at each other as they shared each other’s joy.

When it had ended, and they drifted to quieter waters, he rolled off her onto his side, still inside her to retain the connection.

She snuggled against him, struggling to catch her breath. She’d done it now. She’d admitted that she loved him, not only to him but also to herself. No turning back now.

He pulled out of her and rolled onto his back. “Thank you.”

“Thank
you.
It was wonderful. As always.”

“No, I meant thank you for your honesty,” he said. “Finally.”

That had such an odd ring to it. Not at all the murmured sweetness after all the other times they’d fallen asleep together. Of course, they weren’t even under the covers, and she could still curl up in his arms before sleep claimed her.

She rested her head on his shoulder and ran her palm over his chest. “I meant to tell you all along. I was afraid.”