Once Upon a True Love's Kiss Page 6

  "How very generous of you," she replied with a smirk, high color rising on her sculpted cheekbones.

  He purposely yanked his clothes into a semblance of order before catching her gaze once again. He stilled his hands and narrowed his gaze. "Should I be concerned about your dogged pursuing of me? You're not cracked are you?"

  "I'm beginning to wonder," she grumbled, forcing him to press his lips together to keep from smiling.

  She shoved her hair over her shoulders. "Rest assured I'm not doggedly pursuing you."

  "How disappointing." He allowed the truth of his feelings to shimmer at the surface for a moment before lightening his tone. "And here I thought I must have so intrigued you at the ball that you investigated me, learned where I had my country home, and made your way here with your daughter all in the hope of encountering me and trying to talk me into marrying you."

  The color on her cheeks deepened and spread, rather alluringly, to her chest. Her gaze darted away for a moment before settling back on him. "Actually, I did come here in search of you, though not with marriage in mind."

  He lifted his brows slowly, even as his blood raced through his veins. He really should not keep teasing her, but it was impossible to resist. "I like how you think, Lady Barrows."

  Her brows furrowed together before her eyes widened. "I'm not thinking of you like that at all. I don't even see you in that way. More like a dog in need of training."

  "Your flattery is rather lethal," he chided playfully, enjoying the rapid reddening of her lovely skin.

  She pressed her hands to her cheeks while a smile played at her lips. "You're muddling my thoughts."

  "Dogs can have that effect."

  "Do be serious."

  "Do you want me to be a good boy and sit?"

  "No, roll over and play dead," she said straight-faced.

  He couldn't stop the bark of laughter that escaped him.

  She grinned in return. "What I meant to say before you befuddled me was, I did come here to find you, but—"

  "Ah, ah, ah." He wiggled his finger at her. "I find when women insert the word but into their sentences nothing pleasant follows for the man."

  "Do try and listen."

  "I am." His repressed laughter vibrated his words.

  "Are you always this way?" she asked with a laugh.

  "What way is that?" He loved how her eyes twinkled when she smiled.

  "Do you always show so much affection to your daughter and banter so lightheartedly with ladies you barely know?"

  He quirked his mouth as if he were lost temporarily in deep thought. "I do always show an enormous amount of affection to my daughter. I grew up without the benefit of knowing whether my mother or father loved me, and I never want my daughter to doubt my love. And as for bantering with ladies I don't know, I know you." That husky sound had crept back into his tone. Something about this woman did that to him.

  Her eyes grew wide so that he could see that gold flecked the green.

  "What is it you think you know about me, Mr. Wolverton?"

  "Call me Nash." He wanted to hear his name from her lips. He couldn't say precisely why—it was another gut desire—and one he'd never experienced.

  She shook her head. "I couldn't possibly."

  "You could possibly." He leaned close as if to whisper a secret. "I've just given you leave to do so."

  "It's not proper," she said, her pink tongue darting out to lick her full lips.

  He had a brief image of taking her mouth with his and slipping his tongue inside her to taste her. He had no doubt she'd be sweeter than honey. "Are you always proper, Julianna?"

  Her hand fluttered to her neck. "Yes. I'm rather boring that way. Are you always this improper?"

  "I'm afraid so. I'm rather exciting that way." He slid one finger down her bare, silken arm from the crook of her elbow all the way to her small hand. Taking her slender, cool fingertips in his he lifted them to his lips, telling himself he shouldn't and knowing he damn well would anyway. He pressed a kiss to the edge of her fingers, the contact of his lips to her flesh making him ache painfully.

  Gently tugging her hand away, she said, "I can see now why you are in search of a tutor for yourself."

  He blinked in surprise. "How did you know I was in search of a tutor?"

  She waved a hand toward the path that led back to his house and the other homes that occupied this secluded area. "May we walk as we talk? I'd like to change into dry clothes as I'm sure you and your daughter would, as well."

  He nodded, though he would have gladly stood here soaking wet all day long just to be able to glimpse her with her gown molded so seductively against her body.

  "Liza," she called over her shoulder. "Come along. We're heading home to get dry clothes."

  "I want to play with my friend," Liza whined.

  "She can come too if her father will allow it." Julianna shot him a questioning look.

  He wriggled his eyebrows at her, just to see if he could get her to smile again, and when her cheeks pulled into a grin and two dimples appeared, making her look breathtakingly innocent, his heart gave an odd tug. He cleared his throat and pitched his voice low and dramatically serious. "If I can come, as well, I'll allow whatever you ask and much, much more." So much for only talking to her as the lady he knew she was. He simply couldn't help himself. She'd done nothing, yet her nothing made him want to do wicked things to her and with her.

  Julianna smirked before turning toward the girls. "Come along then, little darlings. You may play together for a bit." Julianna turned back to Nash.

  Squeals of delight echoed behind Nash and Julianna as they set out up the hill and toward the path. Nash held out his arm in the pretense of being gentlemanly, but he knew damn well proper manners had nothing to do with his actions. He wanted to touch her again. He felt suddenly seven years old and remembered clearly staring into the Granger Toy Store window at Christmas and looking at the glossy wooden horse with the big red bow tied around it. He couldn't afford that horse, but he'd wanted it more than anything in the world. He could afford Julianna, and he wanted her, but nevertheless she was still unattainable.

  She slipped her arm through his, and the rightness of holding her this way hit him. How odd that it should seem so natural to lead this woman he barely knew. He inhaled deeply and concentrated on the feel of her. The slight weight on his arm. The warmth of her skin in contact with his. The gentle sway of her hip that bumped his as they walked. This may be the only time he was ever this close to her, and as sure as he'd known he would never allow a child of his to be raised in an orphan house, he understood he wanted to remember this moment forever.

  The chatter of the children behind them filled the silence as they walked, so he started humming an old tune about a willing barmaid he used to sing when he'd practice for his boxing matches.

  Julianna glanced sideways at him. "You're impossible," she said in a light and merry tone. "I know that bawdy tune."

  "You do?"

  She nodded. "When you employ me, we really are going to have to work on your music choices and your tendency to insert licentious comments into conversation with ladies. I'm not easily shocked. My mother's father was a baker, and he had a vocabulary and list of outrageously shocking songs he sang that would have made even you blush. But most ladies of the ton would have swooned five times over at some of the things you have said to me or what you were just humming. And if you truly want to marry a proper lady, the first thing you must learn to do is avoid improper songs and not talk in a way that will send a lady running in the opposite direction."

  It was hard to decide which of Julianna's casual omissions shocked him more. He settled on the one that held the most promise and interest. "When I hire you?"

  She nodded while giving him a no-nonsense look. "I haven't been completely forthright with you."

  "You haven't?" He couldn't keep the surprise from his voice. She paused in front of a palatial six-paneled red door that he realized with a start belonged
to the house that was at the end of his lane. This was the home he had recently learned was owned by his friend Davenport. He grinned. He couldn't have stopped the reaction if he'd tried. "Am I to take it Lady Davenport sent you to me?"

  "She played a part. She offered her home to me when she realized I needed a place to stay for a bit, and when I told her I wanted to find employment, she thought of you and said we might be able to help each other. Is the position of tutor filled?"

  He shook his head, hardly believing his good fortune.

  "Excellent. Why don't you go home and change into dry clothes. Liza can lend Maggie a dress to wear, so we do not have to interrupt their play. I'll change as well, and you can interview me when you return to see if you think I will suit your needs."

  "There's no need to interview you," he replied, his heart beating an erratic rhythm in his ears.

  Her brows furrowed together in the most adorable way. Julianna was terrible at disguising her emotions. Nash loved that. Most women he'd known never displayed what they were truly thinking.

  "I assure you I'm qualified to tutor you and your daughter."

  She was nibbling on her lip now, displaying her worry. He didn't know why she needed employment, but he could tell she was very concerned about not getting the position. He reached out and grasped one of the hands she had been twisting together. "There's no need to interview you because I already know I want to employ you." What he didn't know was how he was going to keep his hands off this woman. She'd made it quite clear she had no interest in anyone who wasn't her saintly husband.

  Nash frowned. He was jealous of a dead man. How pathetic.

  After Forever: Chapter Five

  JULIANNA'S BREATH CAUGHT IN HER CHEST at the way Mr. Wolverton—oh, all right, Nash—stared at her with smoldering eyes. How silly she was being. Eyes didn't smolder. Fires smoldered, not one's eyes. She leaned forward just a bit and squinted at his blue gaze because, truly, it did appear to be lit with something.

  Heaven help her! She knew what that something was. She scrambled around him and motioned for the girls to follow her. "Come along, girls. Let us go change." After she opened the door and shooed the girls in she turned and focused once more on Nash. Her stomach fluttered oddly. "When you return, we can discuss the terms of my employment." Did she sound panicked? She hoped not, but goodness the man looked sinfully handsome the way his wet clothes clung to his muscular body. The thought heated her despite her own wet state.

  Swiveling on her heel without waiting for a reply, she dashed inside as his low chuckle echoed behind her. With the children giggling at her heels, she took the steps in a most unladylike way, two at a time, and once at the top of the circular staircase, fairly raced down the long hall until she scrambled into Liza's room and forced herself to take a calming breath. A strange feeling gnawed at her that she tried to ignore as she helped the girls change, but instead of lessening, her uneasiness grew. Leaving the chattering children to play she went to her own bedchamber to put on a new gown. As the door swished shut behind her, a long-forgotten memory slammed into her. She halted, unable to take another step, and stood trembling in the center of the enormous guest bedchamber.

  Blinking, she tried to focus on the yellow coverlet with the intricate swirling pattern to try to ward off the recollection that was turning from fuzzy to clear in her head, but it was no use. The memory would not be held at bay. The burgundy-colored coverlet of her and Henry's bedchamber filled her mind. How long ago had it been that she'd shed all her clothes and waited, wrapped in that burgundy coverlet for her husband to come into their bedchamber? Four years? No, five. She'd married Henry when she was eighteen, and she was now three and twenty.

  She grimaced, recalling how she had replaced the burgundy coverlet with a white one the day after Henry had rebutted her attempt to caress him between his legs. It had been ridiculous to hope changing the bedcovering would dull her shame. She'd still felt utterly rejected and had promptly complained to Audrey, who'd given her a scandalous picture book of sensual drawings she'd stolen from her father's collection and flippantly told Julianna to inform Henry that he needed to further his education. The one time she had asked him if he'd ever seen a book like the one she secretly possessed, he'd responded that he was above such depravation, so she'd never mentioned it again. She knew he loved her with all his heart and that had mattered more than anything else.

  Sometimes, at night when she was the loneliest, Julianna could clearly see the drawing in the book of the woman with her hands wrapped around the man's staff and the desire burning in the man's eyes. And she could not help but wish Henry had looked at her that way.

  That was how Nash's eyes had looked just now—full of flaming desire. And it hadn't appalled her as it should have. Something in her had stirred. A longing to be touched, caressed, or simply held once again in the safety of strong arms. Horrified by her thoughts, she pressed her face into her hands and took a long, shuddering breath. Having funny tingling feelings for another man meant forgetting Henry and risking her heart. She wanted no part of either of those things, and if Nash made any overt attempt to seduce her, she would simply have to make sure he clearly understood her position.

  Gads, she was reminding herself of her prim grandmother. But so be it. Better to be straitlaced than break her vow or her heart again.

  Squaring her shoulders, she marched over to the wardrobe and perused her gowns, settling on a high-collared, blue-twilled French silk day gown with long sleeves. It was entirely too hot today for this particular garment, but she'd wear it anyway since it would cover her almost completely from neck to feet. Once she was dressed, she settled her hair into a knot at the back of her neck and glanced at herself in the looking glass. She looked rather pathetic.

  It was perfect.

  She made her way out of her bedchamber and to Liza's room, but found it empty, so she headed down the steps to locate the girls while thinking over her situation. She was probably being utterly ridiculous. Just because she found Nash attractive didn't mean she would ever be in danger of coming to care for him. She barely knew him, after all. He seemed like a good man, but what did she really know of him? Halfway down the staircase, she paused and gripped the balustrade.

  True, he loved his daughter with his whole heart, and he was rather a funny man, but he probably had a dozen dark secrets and tendencies he was hiding. Likely she'd learn them all soon enough and the odd fluttering in her belly would go away. She willed it to be so, and when her stomach fluttered again at the remembrance of his hand grazing her breast when he pulled her near under the water, she groaned and continued her progress downstairs. Three voices, two young and one distinctly male, drifted to her from the direction of the parlor. Nash must have already returned because the deep chuckle coming from the parlor sounded nothing like the butler's. Determined to quit acting like a silly goose, she strode to the parlor.

  Outside the door, she ran a smoothing hand over her gown—she always was fidgety when nervous—and opened the door.

  She blinked at the sight that met her. Nash lay propped on his right elbow and positioned between Liza and his daughter, who had apparently dragged Liza's play tea service down from the nursery. All three were smiling and acting as if they were drinking real tea when Liza suddenly offered Nash an invisible scone that he, in turn, pretended to eat. Playfully, he gobbled the thing in one bite. His show made the girls giggle and Julianna's heart trip at how wonderfully at ease he was with children. Henry had loved Liza with all his heart, but he would have never gotten down on the floor with her and had a fake tea party. Guilt pricked her. She shouldn't be making comparisons between Henry and Nash.

  Irritated with her train of thought, she marched into the room and fixed what she hoped was a scowl on her face. It certainly felt scowl-like the way her brows were straining together. "I see our first lesson will need to be that gentlemen do not sprawl on floors." Even as she said it, she knew it didn't bother her and she had to pinch back the smile that was playing
at her lips.

  Nash glanced up at her with a disarming smile. Rising to his feet, he brushed his hands together and looked down at her. "Did your late husband never sprawl on the floor?"

  "Certainly not." She gulped. Not only did the man have eyes that burned like fire but his body put off the heat of one. She could practically feel his warmth surrounding her, and drat it all, it made her shiver.

  "You're cold still," he murmured in a definite, husky voice as he slid his hands to either side of her arms and proceeded to rub with long massaging strokes up and down the length of her limbs. Goosebumps popped up under the material of her gown.

  She stilled his hands and set them away. "I cannot possibly be cold. I have on a long sleeved gown."

  His eyes raked over her with a brazen awareness that said he knew he had caused her to shiver.

  She could have just bit her tongue for forming such foolish words. Defensive, she set her hands on her hips. "Gentleman do not rub ladies' arms in public."

  He quirked an eyebrow. "Not even a husband offering warmth or comfort to his wife?"

  She shook her head. Henry had always said affection was for the privacy of one's home. Her mind still rebelled against the notion, which made her bite her lip at yet another traitorous thought regarding Henry.

  Nash shifted nearer. "If that's the case, perhaps I don't want to learn to be a proper gentleman after all."

  Purposely, she trailed her gaze to his daughter and then back to him. Their eyes met and locked. Tilting her head to Maggie, she said, "I was under the impression you had a very good reason for wanting to learn proper manners."

  The immediate tension in him was apparent by his stiffening shoulders and ticking jaw.

  "Of course. You're right. Hopefully, I'll meet a lady who doesn't require I follow all the ton rules of how to be cold and boring, but if not, I'll do my duty as I know it needs to be done. And I believe my first responsibility is to properly introduce you to my daughter, though I am sure you have already familiarized yourself. I took the liberty of introducing myself to the lovely Lady Liza in your absence. I suppose you'll probably tell me it wasn't proper at all to do that."