The Accidental Countess (Accidental #2)(67)

Cass gasped and snapped her mouth shut.

“Oh, don’t look so surprised,” Daphne continued, an impish smile on her face. “You know it’s true.”

Cass cast about for something to say. “I … I think you ought to return to the ballroom before your—”

“Brother comes looking for you,” said a deep male voice. “I quite agree.”

Both ladies swung around. Julian was standing in the doorway, leaning against the jamb. He looked so handsome Cass wanted to fall to her knees. His hair was slicked to the side and his gray eyes glowed against the dark black of his evening attire.

Daphne cleared her throat. “I think you’re both absolutely right. I’ll just pop back into the ballroom. I promised Lord Cartwright a dance.”

Daphne was gone in an instant, and Cass was left swallowing hard and staring up at Julian.

She took a deep breath and then made to move past him. “I should get back.”

His hand shot out and captured her upper arm. “Wait.”

Cass closed her eyes and turned her face away. “What?”

“I … I don’t know.”

Cass blinked away tears and ran her tongue over her teeth. “I didn’t know you’d be here tonight. I wasn’t following you.”

“I know that. You needn’t try to avoid me.”

“I have to,” she whispered.

“Why?”

For my own sanity. “Because I … feel guilty.”

His voice was matter-of-fact. “You’ve already apologized.”

“You won’t accept my apology.”

“It’s not that I don’t accept it, Cassie, it’s just—”

Cass blinked away tears. He’d called her Cassie, the special name he used in his letters, the name no one else in the entire world called her.

“Don’t,” she whispered. She’d meant, don’t call her Cassie, but he released her arm.

“My apologies,” he said.

She turned to face him, wrapping her arms around her middle. “Julian, I…”

“What?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what to say to you anymore. I only know it hurts. I feel as if I’ve lost my best friend.”

“Best friend? That’s what I am to you?”

“I thought so.” She searched his face.

“You should go.” A muscle in his jaw ticked. “Upton is probably looking for you.”

She brushed past him again. She had to get out of there.

This time, his hand shot out, grabbed her shoulder and spun her around. She gasped. “Damn it, Cassie. I can’t keep my hands off you.” He pulled her into his arms, and his mouth swooped down to claim hers.

Cass’s head tipped back and she wrapped her arms around his neck. Yes. Yes. Yes.

He kicked the door shut with his booted foot. His bold tongue pushed into her mouth and tangled with hers. She moaned. He pushed her up against the wall and kissed her again, again, again.

Cass forgot to think, forgot to breathe, forgot anything, everything. All she knew was that Julian was kissing her. Julian. And it wasn’t a dream, it wasn’t fake or false or in her imagination. It was real. The flesh-and-blood man, all hot and tall and hard and wanting, was standing in front of her, bracing her against the wall, and kissing her as if he never wanted to stop.

He cradled her face between his hands. His tongue dipped into her mouth, owned her, possessed her. She melted.

“Why are you kissing me?” she whispered against his lips.

“I don’t know,” he growled, just before his mouth claimed hers again.

He picked her up easily and carried her to the settee. He laid her down and covered her with his hard, hot body. Cass kicked off her slippers. She wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling her skirts up out of the way. Those blasted skirts.

Julian was unconsciously pressing against her most intimate spot. Again. Again. Again. She whimpered. His hips kept up a steady rhythm that Cass didn’t even know if he was aware of. It drove her mad. The only barrier between them was his breeches. Her shift was up and out of the way and she clung to him, wanting him.

She knew so little about this. Had never kissed a man let alone done anything like this, but she’d dreamed about it. Alone in her bed all these years, she’d dreamed of Julian’s body on top of hers, his lips molded to hers, his hips setting a gentle rhythm. Yes. She’d dreamed about it. But none of her dreams matched the reality of having him here, his warm skin beneath her fingertips, his insistent mouth pressed against hers, his hips moving unconsciously against her in a motion that made her want to scream his name.

Anyone might walk in on them at any time. Daphne might return, or their hostess might come in, a servant even. This was beyond dangerous, but Cass didn’t care. She’d kiss him forever, let him touch her for eternity, or longer. Nothing mattered other than Julian’s hands at her hips, pulling at her naked flesh, wrapping her legs around his waist tighter, groaning, kissing her. His hardness probed at her through the thin fabric of his breeches. She only wanted more, more, more.

He pulled his mouth away from hers and his breathing was harsh, ragged. He pressed his forehead against hers, and Cass fought against the urge to cry out. His hands were cradling her hips, making her crazy. She closed her eyes and pressed her forehead to his.