Somewhere I'll Find You (Capital Theatre #1)(67)

Julia's breath quickened, and her fingers grasped the edge of her chair as she fought for composure. She wanted to stand and press herself into the lee of his thighs, to welcome the warmth of his hands on her skin. Damon continued to toy with her leisurely, his silver-gray eyes locked on every nuance of her expression. “They want to make love to you,” he murmured, “and lock you away somewhere for their private pleasure.” His fingers slid beneath the edge of her bodice, dipping close to the tingling bud of her nipple.

Shivering, Julia caught his hand. “You said you would return me to the inn untouched.”

“So I did.” Gradually his fingers withdrew from her gown. His lips hovered above hers, his breath warm and sweet against her skin. “There's a bit of meringue at the corner of your mouth.”

Automatically Julia reached with her tongue and found the touch of stickiness, letting it dissolve in her mouth. Damon's gaze didn't miss the flicker of movement. His hand, still caught in hers, was as hard as steel.

Slowly Julia let go of him, and happened to glance at the sparkling diamond on her own finger. The stone was extraordinarily beautiful in the candlelight, glittering in constantly shifting patterns. She felt guilty for having accepted it from him, for wearing something she wasn't entitled to keep. “You should take this back,” she said, removing the ring and offering it to him.

“I have no use for it.”

“It doesn't belong to me.”

“It does,” he contradicted quietly. “You're my wife.”

Julia frowned, holding the ring in her palm. “This is a symbol of a marriage that never existed—and never will.”

“I want you to keep it. No matter what happens in the future, you'll look at that ring and know that once you were mine.”

Julia hadn't realized that he considered the ring a sign of ownership. She set it on the table, forcing herself to let go of the beautiful diamond. The ring came with a price she wasn't certain she was willing to pay. “I'm sorry,” she said, unable to look at him.

Although she couldn't see his face, she sensed a change in the atmosphere…the fierce will of a warrior in battle, the urge to conquer and dominate. Aware of his violence barely kept in check, Julia remained very still. She kept her face turned away and listened to his breathing, until the deepening movements of his lungs became calm once more.

“You'll ask for it back someday.”

Startled, Julia made the mistake of looking at him. His face was very near, his eyes gleaming like a well-sharpened knife blade. It took all her self-control to keep from shivering in alarm. In this moment it was easy to see how he had singlehandedly pulled his family from poverty to wealth, with pure force of will. “No,” she said softly. “Even if I were to fall in love with you, I wouldn't accept the ring and become your property.”

“Property,” he repeated, his tone infused with the sting of a riding whip. “Is that how you think I would treat you?”

Rising from her chair, Julia stared at him face to face, while he remained half-seated on the table. “If I were your wife, would you let me go wherever I chose, do whatever I pleased, with no questions or recriminations? Would you make no protest while I continued with my profession, attending rehearsals in the mornings, coming back from performances at midnight or later? And what of your friends and peers?—the sneers and nasty comments they would make about me, their assumptions that I was little more than a prostitute. Would you find a way to accept all that?”

His face turned a few shades darker, confirming her suspicions. “Why does the theater mean so much to you?” he asked curtly. “Is it such a damned sacrifice to give up the life of a Gypsy?”

“I've never been able to depend on anything else. It's the only thing I'm certain of. I don't want a title and an endless round of social events, and a quiet estate in the country—that's the life my father would have chosen for me.”

Damon caught her h*ps in his hands, imprisoning her between his thighs. “Part of you wants that life.”

Twisting, pushing at his hard chest, Julia tried to free herself, but his grip only tightened. He pulled her closer until her struggles created an intimate friction between them. Abruptly she froze, realizing the effect her movements were having on him. The rigid proof of his arousal pressed against her abdomen, eliciting an immediate response from her body. “I want to leave now,” she said breathlessly.

Damon released her, but with his intent gaze fastened on hers, she couldn't seem to move away. “I won't make it easy for you. You're not going to avoid me—or get rid of me—without a fight.”

Julia stared at him with a mixture of fury and longing. It was difficult enough, denying herself what she wanted so badly. There were dreams she still harbored deep inside, of having her own family and home, falling asleep each night in the arms of her husband, spending leisurely hours playing with her children. Now those faceless images had taken clear shape in her mind…she wanted to be Damon's wife, and bear his dark-haired offspring. The dreams were now a possibility, and giving them up would be the hardest thing she had ever done.

Suddenly she remembered Logan Scott's cool, mocking voice as he said, You may decide that you love Savage enough to surrender your body and soul to his keeping…but I wouldn't advise it.