Three Nights with a Scoundrel (Stud Club #3)(31)

She moaned low in her throat.

Lust rocked him in his boots.

“Yes,” she sighed. “Just there.”

Suffice it to say, now Lily wasn’t the only one contending with uncomfortable stiffness. He slid his hand forward, over the ridge of her collarbone. Excitement surged to his fingertips. Mere inches below, the snowy expanse of her décolletage tempted.

Here was a perilous slope.

He did what any man approaching a precipice would do. He inched forward and peered over the edge.

What a breathtaking view. The gentle mounds of her br**sts cradled a steep, luscious valley. She looked so soft. Julian had seen and touched and held to his cheek the finest textiles the world had to offer—velvets, silks, luxurious furs from every corner of every continent. And yet he knew instinctively, none of them could approach the sleek perfection of Lily Chatwick’s bosom. There would simply be no apt comparisons. Just as the terms “oak,” “granite,” and “tempered steel” failed to describe the current state of his arousal.

“You can’t have her,” he told himself aloud. “Not like that.” Before he could second-guess himself, he jerked his hand from her body.

She circled her head, stretching. “Mm, thank you.” Then she looked to him, eyebrows rising in expectation. “Well …?”

“Well.” Eager to conceal his own expectant, rising parts, Julian pulled up a chair and seated himself across the desk from her. “Good morning. I brought you something.” He carefully lifted his offering onto the desk. He’d been holding it in one hand all this while, and the parcel’s contents had grown noticeably agitated.

She was having none of it. “Julian. Do you honestly mean to pretend last night didn’t happen?”

He froze. He’d been asking himself that very thing. If he wished, he could deny everything. With a bit of bluster and diversion, he could lead her to believe she’d misunderstood his words and actions. He could convince her that no, he actually hadn’t lost his wits and impulsively confessed to harboring years of lust for her. With luck, he could have her believing that whatever he’d planned on doing instants before they were interrupted, it most certainly had not been kissing her for the second time in one day.

But today, looking into her lovely face, he found he simply couldn’t stomach more lies.

“No,” he said. “I don’t mean to pretend anything.”

Why shouldn’t she understand that since the day they’d met, he’d been seized by a powerful attraction to her? Lily was no fool. She would understand, as he did, that nothing could ever come of it. So many factors prevented him from acting on his desire—her mourning, the inequity of their rank, the recent resurrection of his innate sense of decency. Not to mention the fact that within a fortnight, Julian Bellamy would permanently disappear from London society. One way or another.

Let her know. Let her know what she did to him.

“So.” She drummed her fingers on the desk. “You desire me.”

“Yes.”

“Always have.”

“From the first.”

Her drumming fingers stilled. “And last night, when you flew into a rage with that Commander …”

“Merriwin. Commander Merriwin.”

“Yes, him. It wasn’t because you thought I was weak, or in need of protection.”

“No. It was jealousy. An instinctive male reaction, and one I should have suppressed.” He leaned forward. “I do believe in you, Lily. I know you could handle that man, or ten just like him. The weakness was mine.”

“Well.” Leather creaked as she sat back in her chair. “This is all so very enlightening.”

“It is?”

“Yes, of course. It explains so much.” Her cheeks went pink. “I mean, it’s undeniably flattering. Or at least, reassuring. I was beginning to feel like the only woman in London who didn’t catch your eye.”

His heart sank. Nothing—in all his life, absolutely nothing—could have made Julian regret his history of debauchery more than this: for him to finally confess his desire for Lily, and for her to conclude that his admiration simply made her one of a crowd. So utterly wrong that she should believe that, and yet … so convenient.

“As long as we are being honest,” she continued, her gaze sliding to the side, “I have to admit that I find you attractive, too. Not that it should be surprising. Again, I seem to be in the female majority.” She smiled.

“So,” he said, groping his way down the escape hatch she’d opened. “We’ve established that we are two attractive people.”

She nodded.

“And that each of us, logically, finds the other attractive.”

“As is only natural.” She stacked her arms on the desk and leaned against them. “It makes perfect sense. I’m so glad we’ve had this discussion, aren’t you?”

Julian was stunned silent for a moment. That was it? Truly? He admitted to wanting her, and she confessed to harboring a few innocent fancies of her own, and then they just … moved on from the topic entirely? Could it really be so simple? She wouldn’t think so, if she could have seen him arching on his toes for a glimpse of her br**sts just now.

“Er … yes,” he finally said. “I’m glad, too.”