Somewhere I'll Find You (Capital Theatre #1)(92)

“No, but…thank you for coming here. It means a great deal that you would want to protect me.”

“If only I could protect you from yourself,” he said with an ironic edge to his voice. Exchanging a glance of loathing with Damon, Logan turned and left the room, making a mocking show of closing the ruined door behind him.

Julia turned to face Damon, only to find that he had apparently lost all desire for her company. “Get out,” he said, using his shirt sleeve to blot his bloodied nose, ruining the exquisite white linen.

Her mouth tightened with exasperation. Going to the washstand, she found a linen towel and moistened it with water from the porcelain pitcher. Damon sat on the edge of the bed and jerked his head back as she tried to dab at his face.

“Is your nose broken?” Julia asked, persisting until she had removing the blood from his upper lip.

“No.” He took the cloth from her. “You can stop playing the ministering angel. I don't need you.”

Julia shook her head slowly, feeling an overwhelming rush of love for him…the obstinate, arrogant, foul-tempered man. She pushed back the skeins of hair that had fallen across her face, and sat beside him. Gently she slid her hand over his smooth-shaven cheek and urged him to look at her. His face .was like granite.

“I need you,” she said softly.

Damon didn't move, but she felt the hardening of his cheek beneath her hand. “You were right,” she continued. “I am afraid to trust you. But if I don't, then I'll never be able to trust anyone. It scares me to death to think that you'll want more than I can give. However, if you're willing to accept what I'm able to offer…”

Damon battled silently with the remnants of his jealous rage. The madness that had possessed him ever since he had discovered that she intended to become Logan Scott's wife began to ebb a little. As he looked at Julia, he saw the signs of strain about her face.

Her hand was soft on his cheek, and her blue-green eyes were filled with an emotion that made his heart constrict painfully. He wanted her so badly he was suffocated with it, wanted her any way he could have her. There were still too many words left unsaid, sorely needed explanations, issues to resolve…but he ignored them all and reached for Julia in a move that took her by surprise.

She didn't protest as he covered her mouth with his, kissing her hungrily. Her lips parted, and her arms slid beneath his open shirt, her hands coming to rest on his back. How many nights had he dreamed of Julia this way, soft and willing in his arms, pressing close against him.

He turned her, pushed her back onto the mattress until her hair spilled behind her head in a golden torrent. Bending over her, he kissed her throat and chest, moving down to her br**sts. The tips hardened and rose against the fabric of her costume, and she made a soft sound in her throat as Damon bit gently through the bodice.

It seemed miraculous, Julia's lack of resistance, the way she accepted his touch…he realized that tonight she would allow whatever he wanted, and his heart hammered in a furious rhythm of need. With unsteady fingers he unlaced her bodice and pulled the dress from her shoulders and down to her waist. She lifted her h*ps and helped him strip away the costume completely, leaving only her linen undergarments. In a lithe movement she rose to her knees and pulled the chemise over her head, revealing the enticing curves and shadows of her body. Damon touched the delicate roundness of one breast, brushing his knuckles over the taut crest. Raising his gaze to Julia's luminous face, he saw a tenderness that devastated him.

“Do as you promised,” she said, her voice hushed. “Make love to me tonight…and let me tell you how much I love you.”

“And in the morning?” he couldn't help asking.

She smiled as if the question were foolish, and leaned forward to kiss his mouth. “Turn down the lights,” she whispered.

Damon went to extinguish the lamps, leaving only a small flame burning in one of them, and returned to the bed. Julia's body was almost ghostly in the dimness, sleek and silvery as she stretched across the bed. The silken sheen of her stockings and the ridges of her garters were all that remained to cover her. Damon removed his clothes and lowered, himself onto the mattress, his senses reeling as he pulled her na**d body against his, fire igniting everywhere their skin touched.

Julia's teasing hands moved over his back and hips, traveling down to his taut bu**ocks. She was bolder than she had ever been before, her mouth and fingers maddeningly inventive as she explored him, a playful nymph bent on torture.

Damon fought to keep from taking her immediately, wanting to make the pleasure last. He removed one of her garters and unrolled her stocking, kissing each inch of newly revealed skin until he had worked his way from her inner thigh to the arch of her foot. Julia purred in response and offered him her other leg, wantonly drawing her silk-covered toes across his midriff. He removed that stocking as well, making her squirm at the tickling sensation of his mouth behind her knee. When the task was completed, he rolled her beneath him.

“Tell me,” he commanded, nuzzling the curve of her jaw.

Julia's eyes opened, and he saw the coquettish gleam that betrayed her utter enjoyment. “Tell you what?”

“What you promised to say to me.”

“Later,” she said, and clasped his stiff erection in her hand, guiding him between her thighs. Damon resisted and frowned down at her, wanting the words she withheld. Artfully Julia tried to coax him closer, murmuring erotic promises, clasping her slender thighs around him. An unwilling laugh was torn from his throat. He stroked and kissed her, savoring her response…the rush of her breathing, the trembling that took hold of her. “Take me now,” she said breathlessly. “Now, now…”