Only With Your Love (Vallerands #2)(88)

“I want to do another one.”

“After dinner, I promise.”

Giving Justin a chiding look as if she knew precisely why storytime had ended so abruptly, Angeline left the room with dragging feet.

Celia stared at his unreadable face. She wished he would come sit by her, but he remained standing, preserving the distance between them. “I know that you and Maximilien are planning something,” she said. “I saw the two of you walking together yesterday morning. What are you going to do?”

“You don’t need to know.”

“But of course I do, I…” Celia paused as she saw how empty his gaze was. “Justin, why are you looking at me that way? What is going to happen?”

“Philippe is coming back. You’re his wife. After he’s returned here safely I’ll be gone.”

Her brow wrinkled anxiously. “Yes, and I will be going with you.”

“No.”

“No? Justin, you don’t mean that you would leave me here—”

“That’s exactly what I mean. When Philippe returns he’ll need you to be his wife and take care of him—”

“Yes, I want to help him. But I cannot be his wife. I am going to give him his freedom. He and Briony love each other, and I belong with you.”

“You’re married to him, Celia.”

She wanted to go to him, but her knees were too weak. “After all the things you told me, and the promises you made, you cannot try to tell me that you don’t—”

“A man will say many things when he wants to take a woman to bed.”

Celia felt as if the breath had been knocked out of her. “I know that you love me,” she said in a low voice.

“I thought I did. But you were right when you told me you feared you were merely a…passing fancy.” The words were said so smoothly that almost anyone would have believed him. But nothing could hide the twitching muscle in his clenched jaw and his high color.

Celia was confused and terrified, until understanding crept over her slowly. He was trying so hard to be callous and cool, when it was only last night that he had held her in his arms and loved her as tenderly as a man could love a woman. She realized what he was trying to do now, and his reasons for it. Suddenly she got her breath back, and with it a surge of shaky confidence.

“You are lying to me,” she said.

“It’s not a lie. I’ve gotten what I wanted from you. Now I’m finished with you.”

Celia stood up and walked to him. Justin seemed to steel himself at her approach, looking like a fierce mastiff afraid of a small kitten. “I don’t believe you,” she said.

“Then you’re a fool. You have a husband coming home to you, and I’m going to deliver him to you gladly. I’m tired of you. I’m tired of this game we’ve been playing.”

“You’re doing this for me. You think I’ll be safer if you leave me behind. Well, I will be—I’ll be protected and safe and miserable. Is that for the best? Is that what you want?” She began to slide her arms around him, but he flinched and drew back. “Think of how it will be for you, wondering every night for the rest of your life if I am alone, if I am sleeping in someone else’s arms—”

Jealous rage sparked in his eyes. “I’ll be glad to be rid of you!”

She rested her hands on his chest. “The night before last you begged me to go with you. You said you couldn’t live without me.”

“That was before I knew Philippe was alive.” Desperately Justin tried to ignore the scent of her, the soft brush of her br**sts against him. But his body betrayed him, his heart hammering, his loins filling with heat and an all-too-familiar ache.

She pressed her warm mouth against his, and he inhaled sharply. The tip of her tongue investigated the seam of his closed lips, and her slim arms encircled his neck. His body stiffened. It took all of his concentration to keep from crushing her to him. Damn her, this wasn’t happening the way he had intended! “I don’t love you,” he said, beginning to push her away. “I don’t—” She took advantage of his parted lips to fasten her mouth to his, and began a gentle search for his tongue. All his wild emotions reared against their restraints. Suddenly he quivered and clamped his arms around her, his control snapping like a brittle twig. Hungrily he molded her to the rigid bulge of his loins, the expanse of his chest, and his greedy open mouth. And she told him without words that whatever he wanted, she would give him.

Frustrated, agonized, he shoved her away, muttering curses under his breath.

Her dark gaze was gently mocking, and full of triumph. “I suppose next you’re going to claim that all you feel for me is lust, not love?”

Justin was silent, his chest moving up and down rapidly. He looked as though he would like to throttle her.

“I am not a child who cannot make decisions for herself,” Celia said. “I am a woman, and I have decided to take my chances with you. If you leave me, I will spend the rest of my life searching for you.” She tilted her head as she peered at his dumbfounded face. “Alors, you might as well tell me what you are planning, or I will find out for myself and—”

He snatched her by the shoulders and shook her roughly before pulling her face-to-face with him. Her hair tumbled free of its tortoiseshell comb and spread around her shoulders. Her toes dangled six inches from the floor. Justin’s snarling visage was so close to hers that their noses almost touched. Shocked into silence, she stared at him with wide eyes.