Theresa Romain - Season for Temptation

He suddenly wanted to touch her neck, or smell her hair, or drop a kiss onto those full lips. If he only could get that blasted toast away from her for a few seconds, to draw her attention. His hand even began to reach toward her as if of its own volition, and he forced it to pick up a fork and toy with that instead. But he wanted to grab her up and kiss her until she forgot all about her breakfast. He wanted to learn all about her. He wanted to. .

He mentally drew himself up with a start as he realized what he was thinking. What on earth was he doing, getting heated up about a young woman who hadn’t even made her debut yet? And, more importantly, with an intelligent, elegant, would-never-talk-with-her-mouthfull fiancée waiting for him somewhere in this rabbit warren of a house, too.

He quickly shuttered his face, annoyed with himself. Honestly, had he taken leave of his senses to let this friendly, chattery ( don’t forget beautiful , his treacherous brain added) girl get to him in that way?

He might well have, at that. But he wouldn’t let it happen again. Couldn’t he talk to her without thinking of her as a woman? He simply had to, while he was staying in her home. He couldn’t make her — or Louisa, for that matter — feel uncomfortable.

But he couldn’t stop looking at her, either.

Julia finally seemed to feel James’s gaze on her and looked up. “I’m sorry, I’m done anytime. You’re finished?”

At his silent nod, she stood up and stretched luxuriantly. The taut flex of her body did nothing to help banish the thoughts that James knew, knew , he needed to put a stop to.

“It is so wonderful to have extra meals in midmorning. I can’t thank you enough for being a late riser and missing breakfast.”

This broke James’s feeling of internal tension; it was too ridiculous. At his sudden explosion of laughter, Julia hastily corrected herself.

“That is, not late for town, but early. Maybe late for the country, but not really, since you are a guest. And you can do whatever you like, and not worry about it a bit, since you are a guest.”

“Family, I hope,” James replied in his most soothing, normal, brotherly voice. “And not to be tiptoed around with special arrangements that cause you extra trouble, like second breakfasts.”

As he said this, he thought with a pang of the hour at which he would have to rise for breakfast with the family. Eight o’clock. It simply boggled the mind. Well, if he was to run his own estate, he supposed it would be good to get used to these early country hours.

“Right, right,” Julia was still talking on. “That’s right, you are to be family. Anyway it’s very kind of you to provide me with an excuse to eat as much as I want to.”

With this, the pair left the breakfast room and proceeded down a corridor James remembered only vaguely from his initial trip through the house the night before.

“I still have quite a lot to familiarize myself with,” he observed.

“Louisa will be happy to show you around the whole house,” Julia replied with — was that a knowing smile? He arched a skeptical eyebrow back at her, but she seemed not to notice as she continued, “We’ll check the library for her first. It’s her favorite place in the house.”

They came to a set of heavy double doors, and Julia knocked before cautiously turning the handle of one. “She hates to be startled,” she explained over her shoulder in a stage whisper.

James nodded his understanding. “Louisa?” he called hesitantly.

“Good heavens, come in,” said an exasperated voice from inside.

As Julia opened the door, Louisa added, “Julia, you have got the loudest whisper anyone could possibly imagine. Good morning, James. How are you feeling today? Did you rest well?”

“Excuse me; I will leave you alone,” Julia said in her loud whisper, and again with that knowing smile that twisted warmly through James’s stomach like a fine brandy, she melted off.

Once outside the door of the library, Julia blew out a deep breath, her shoulders sagging. She looked up and down the silent corridor to make sure it was empty, then leaned back against the wall and slid down to the floor, folding her legs in front of her.

“Why am I so stupid all the time?” she muttered.

Why, she thought to herself, did she keep embarrassing herself in front of James? Good heavens, that was actually Viscount Matheson she kept insulting! It seemed as if she couldn’t meet the man without some breach of propriety, whether chiding him for his town polish or, oh yes, giving him an earful of her most unladylike vocabulary words.

Well, they were not the most unladylike words she knew, but they were bad enough.

He had been kind about it so far, but she knew well that it was important that he like the family and want to go ahead with the marriage. Quite simply, Louisa’s turn in London was over, and Julia was to go next if she was ever to have a prayer of marrying outside the limited social circle of the surrounding estates. Their parents had never made the smallest allusion to the fact, but she knew well that, though a London season was a heavy financial burden, an unmarried daughter — especially one of five — could be even more so.

Julia glumly dropped her chin onto her folded knees, curling her arms around her legs. Thus far, her family had behaved quite unconventionally toward their guest — that is, their newest family member, as he had referred to himself — but then again, he did seem to like it.

So, did he like them?

Did he like her ?

From what Julia had seen of James so far, he was. . well, wonderful. She couldn’t seem to stop thinking about him. His clever face, his warm smile, his low laugh, his long body. She only wished she’d been able to see more of it. Of him.

She felt her face heat again. This time, the heat spread into her fingers, making them tingle, and into the pit of her stomach, tickling it with nervous excitement.

James was exactly the sort of man she wanted to meet in London. Exactly the sort of man she’d like for a husband.

She had to remember, though, that he was also the man who was going to marry her sister.

Suddenly, she felt like using all her most unladylike vocabulary words.

In the library, James and Louisa were completely oblivious to Julia’s fit of confusion outside the door as they enjoyed their first private conversation in, it seemed to James, the weeks since his proposal. As soon as the door had closed behind him, he strode over to the red Grecian-style sofa on which Louisa was seated.

He wondered what type of greeting would be proper in this situation. A man should be affectionate with his future wife, of course, but he still felt the distance of unfamiliarity looming between them.

After the briefest of pauses, he caught up her hands in his and kissed first one, then the other.

“Good morning, my dear. You look more beautiful than ever.”

This was no exaggeration; Louisa was a lovely woman. Her wide brown eyes were bright, and her thick dark hair was coiled up neatly and caught back from her face by a pale green band that matched her print morning dress. The color brought out the rich tones of her hair and the delicate pink of her cheeks, which blushed in response to his words.

Louisa cast her gaze down and motioned for him to sit next to her. “Nonsense; that’s just fine talk. But it’s kind of you, so I’ll let it pass even though I know it’s ridiculous.”

“It’s the perfect truth, I swear. I’m very glad to see you alone this morning. It has been quite a while, and we have much to talk about.”