Pulling her to him, he kissed her throat. His mouth wandered downward, kissing every mark he'd left on her. The touch of his lips was gentle, reverent. He whispered anguished apologies against her skin, and as he dropped to his knees in front of her, she could feel the wetness of his tears soak through her chemise.
The depth of his remorse, his openness of feeling, his willingness to show her his Sylvia Day - Bad Boys Ahoy!
vulnerability, stunned her. This was a side of Lucien she had never seen.
Julienne wondered if anyone had ever seen it.
As he pushed up her chemise, his hot breath ruffled the curls of her sex. She shivered, her blood heating, her heart racing. Lucien groaned and buried his mouth between her legs. Slipping a hand behind her knee, he lifted her leg free of her gown and pulled it over his shoulder, opening her to his ravishment.
Gentle fingers parted her, and Julienne sagged against the wall as his tongue delved deeper inside, licking her as if he savored the taste of her. She stared down, watching him, and her heart clenched in her chest. She could never have imagined the sight of the powerful Lucien Remington on his knees before her, his gorgeous eyes bright with grief and other more frightening emotions. With long, slow, sinuous laps he cherished her. He loved her leisurely, as if they had all the time in the world, as if they were alone and not mere steps away from ruination.
Melancholy welled up inside her. "Lucien," she whispered as his tongue thrust into her. "My darling."
Her fingers slipped through his hair and wrapped around his scalp. His tongue probed deep, and she bit her lip to hold back her cries. The coiling tension wound tighter, and her h*ps thrust forward, seeking to deepen the contact. She rode his mouth, undulating against him, her lips parted as she fought to breathe.
He latched onto her and suckled with expert, gentle force, knowing just what she needed.
Her back arched, her breath seized, her fingers tugged at his hair as she came against his mouth. Her orgasm rolled through her, over her, releasing the relentless tension that had gripped her for over a week. A week in which she'd fallen in love and then had her heart broken.
He soothed her tremors with soft laps, gentling her before rising to his feet.
Boneless, Julienne stood unmoving as Lucien dressed her. He drew her against his chest as he buttoned the back of her gown. When he was done, he rocked her gently in his arms. Never in her life had Julienne felt more cherished.
"It's the last set," he whispered.
"I must go," she sighed. "Montrose will be looking for me."
Lucien nuzzled her throat. "This set is reserved for me."
"Be serious," she murmured, kissing the sharp line of his jaw. "You cannot continue to ravish me in public venues. We'll—"
"I am serious. Montrose is aware of my intentions and has promised to offer no objection. Say yes, Julienne." He kissed the tip of her nose. "I'm an excellent dancer."
"You're also a conceited rogue."
"Ah." His smile stunned her wits. "But you wouldn't wish me to be any other way. Now, go out to the ballroom and wait for me."
Tossing a skeptical glance over her shoulder, Julienne exited the alcove and moved down the hallway to the ballroom. Within moments, Lucien was bowing over her hand. She glanced at Hugh, who scowled.
"Do you wish to dance with him?" he asked, giving her the choice.
"Yes," she breathed, waiting for his refusal and astonished when he offered a curt nod to Lucien.
"How did you do it?" she asked as Lucien led her to the line of dancers with a sure hand and a confident step. His powerful body moved gracefully, and she found herself eagerly anticipating the upcoming cotillion.
"Never mind," he said, grinning. "I believe I'm in heaven. Your taste flavors my Sylvia Day - Bad Boys Ahoy!
mouth, and your scent clings to my nostrils." He closed his eyes, breathed deeply, and sighed.
Julienne blushed. "You say the most wicked things, Lucien."
He raised a mocking brow. "You do the most wicked things, my love.
Underneath that prim-and-proper exterior is a wanton dying to be satisfied. And I am just the repentant rake to doit."
"Repentant?" She arched a brow.
"Definitely."
She glanced around furtively before whispering, "Do you really think so?"
"Think what?" he asked. "That I'm the man to satisfy you?" His mouth curved with devilish amusement. "Do you doubt it? I think I've proven myself rather well, considering I haven't been able to use all of my endowments." His grin widened. "You do remember what I told you about challenging a man's virility?"
"No, not that." Her blush deepened. "I meant the part about my being a wanton."
He laughed. "You liked that, did you?"
She blushed. "It's a relief to know you find me…"
"Passionate? Desirable? Interesting? Beautiful?"
Julienne laughed, heedless of the scandalized eyes that watched them cross the dance floor. "You make me feel like I am all of those things. I thank you for that."
"And you make me happy. So it is I who must thank you."
Her eyes dropped shyly.
"Julienne."
She glanced at him.
"I would like to take you on a picnic tomorrow."
"Montrose would never—"
"Leave him to me."
Julienne narrowed her eyes. "Even if that were true, I've already agreed to accompany Lord Fontaine to a literary luncheon tomorrow."
Lucien's lips tightened grimly. "The day after, then."
She nodded. "If you can arrange to garner my brother's approval, I would love to go on a picnic with you, Lucien."
She knew what he wanted. He wished to say good-bye, and she was touched he wanted to make it a memorable event. He cared for her, perhaps more than he knew, but he would never change, and she would never ask him to. Eventually he would resent her for the marital restrictions imposed on his lifestyle. No matter how much he desired her, desire alone would never be enough to bridge the gulf between them.
However, she refused to think about that now.
Instead she threw herself into the dance and allowed Lucien Remington, notorious libertine, to sweep her away. For this moment at least, she could pretend all of her dreams had come true.
Chapter Ten
He was very handsome.
Julienne acknowledged that fact for the hundredth time as she studied Lord Fontaine furtively beneath her lashes. And quite charming. She glanced around the long table where they sat in Lady Busby's London residence. Most of the other women in the room were eyeing him covetously. But Julienne could dredge up no pleasure in the day. All she desired was to be enjoying a picnic with Lucien.
"Is the food not to your taste, Lady Julienne?" Fontaine asked solicitously.
She smiled. "Everything is wonderful. I'm just not very hungry." She glanced at his plate.
"Liar," he teased. "You want a bite of my scone." He broke off a piece with his long, elegant fingers, swiped some softened butter on it with a knife, and brought it to her mouth. She parted her lips automatically, and he popped the morsel inside.
She blushed, knowing everyone at the table had duly noted the intimate gesture.
"I sense a scandalous side to you, my lord."
He grinned. "Does that disturb you?"
"You know it doesn't, or you wouldn't indulge me with it."
"'Tis one of the reasons why I like you so well, Julienne." He took a deep breath.
"There is something I wish to discuss with you, but now is not the appropriate time. Perhaps tomorrow I could take you for a drive in the park?"
Julienne knew exactly what he wished to discuss with her, and she knew what her answer would be. But first she had one more opportunity to spend time with Lucien. "I'm afraid I must decline. I have plans tomorrow." She saw the troubled frown and sought to allay his concern. "But the following day would be lovely."
He nodded. "Of course. I look forward to it."
Hours later, Julienne returned to Montrose Hall, determined to spend the evening at home so she would be fresh and alert for her picnic with Lucien. She had so much to say to him, so many things she wanted him to know, before they said good-bye.
She ordered tea brought to her in the family parlor and made her way upstairs with the afternoon's post. Julienne sorted through the pile halfheartedly, until she came to a missive that caught her eye.
Delicate pink parchment, scented of roses and bearing a rose seal, stood out from the others. Julienne opened it curiously.
"Good grief," she breathed when she realized who the sender was. And then she tucked into the letter with gusto.
She'd jilted him!
Lucien stomped back down the steps of Montrose Hall in a fine temper. He still couldn't believe it. He'd never been jilted in his life. "Something came up,"
Julienne had written in her far-too-brief apology. If that "something" turned out to be Fontaine, there would be the devil to pay.
Returning to his phaeton, Lucien cursed at the sight of the massive picnic basket strapped to the back. He'd never in his life been on a picnic. His staff had been Sylvia Day - Bad Boys Ahoy!
forced to run out and buy the things necessary to put one together, including the basket itself. Even with his foul mood, he wasn't about to allow the fine feast Remington's chef had put together go to waste.