True Love's Deception (book 3) (The Fielding Brothers Saga) (17 page)

BOOK: True Love's Deception (book 3) (The Fielding Brothers Saga)
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Andrew laughed out loud from the image, causing Juliana to stop and stare with wide eyes.

“What is it you find amusing?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know except I must have had some strange dream about dancing.”

She tilted her head.
“A strange dream?”

“It must have been. I don’t think I’ve ever been taught to dance, yet for some reason, I can remember dancing with a girl older than I; and our teacher looked like a witch—wart and all.”

She huffed and folded her arms. “Are you comparing me to a witch?”

He laughed.
“Of course not, my dear.”
He pulled her into his arms. Although this wasn’t the dance position, it was where he wanted her. “You are much easier on my eyes, and have such a sweet voice. I have no idea why I dreamed up such a thing.”

She slipped out of his embrace. “Please do not hold me in such a manner. I still have not forgiven you for this afternoon.” She held her arms in the dance position. “Shall we continue then?”

He nodded and let her carry on, even though all he wanted to do was cuddle her against his body and kiss her endlessly. Being this close made him wish for things that may never be. Against his will, he’d been entrapped in her charming power, and he was helpless to break free.

Another hour passed and soon he made it through the whole dance without stepping on her feet. When the tune was over, she praised him on a stupendous job.

“Will I make you proud at your birthday ball?” he asked, warily.

“Indeed you will, Mr. Lawrence.”

She lifted on tiptoes and planted a kiss on his cheek. Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her body close to his. She gasped, wide-eyed.

“I would like a better praise, if you don’t mind.” He dropped his gaze to her mouth. “Heaven help me, but I want to devour your lips and kiss you until you are breathless.”

Hitching a breath, her lips parted, but no sound came out.
Nothing to discourage him anyway.
Instead, her gesture invited him to continue. “Juliana, even though you crushed me with your rejection this afternoon, I still want you in the worst way.” He bent and pressed his mouth to hers.

Her gasp met his breath as her body stiffened, but soon her lips relaxed and she went limp in his arms. He ran his hands over her back as he turned the kiss urgent. A moan escaped her and she clung to his shoulders. Satisfied in her reaction, he lifted her and in three steps, brought her to his bed. They fell on the mattress together. Another heady moan rattled in her throat and she arched, meeting his sultry touch. He kissed her like a man starved for passion, and she answered just the same.

Could this be the moment he would make her his?
If only for tonight.
After all, they were married in the eyes of God.

Breathing heavy, Juliana raised and lifted her gaze to his. Uncertainty flashed in the blue-green depths. His efforts stilled as he met her stare. Would she turn him down or go with her feelings and allow him to continue?

He cupped her face and kissed her again, more gentle this time. She responded, but after a few kisses, she turned her head.

“No, Andrew,” she said with closed eyes. “I cannot.”

“Why?” He stroked her cheek.

Her chest rose and fell quickly, but she didn’t speak. Finally, she shook her head and pushed him aside as she scooted off the bed.

“I cannot be the woman you stake your lusts upon.”

“Juliana, wait—” He reached for her and caught her wrist. She glared at him. “Juliana, it wouldn’t be like that, and you well know it.”

“I know no such thing.” She struggled to release her wrist, but he held it prisoner. “Please let me go,” she pleaded.

The softness in her plea and pain in her eyes made him release her. She swung and scurried to the door, but instead of opening it, she rested her head against the wood.

“I do
not
want this to happen again.” She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “I will see you downstairs for dinner.”

When the door slammed, his heart shattered into a million pieces. What had he done? Then again, he must not have done enough for her to second guess what was happening. Why couldn’t she realize they would be good for each other?

The problem was
,
he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to convince her. And he didn’t know if telling her about their
real
marriage would do the trick, either.

* * * *

The next evening, Juliana slid her hand over the red silk gown as she gazed at herself in the full-length mirror. White silk weaved the gown with red as it circled her body in large scallops. The material squeezed her bosom in a tight embrace, leaving most of her shoulders and neck bare. A pearl necklace circled her throat and pearl earbobs dangled from her ears. Her hair had been styled with small ringlets.

She grinned. Her maid had outdone herself this time. Juliana didn’t think she’d ever looked as elegant as she did tonight.

What would Andrew think?

The frown left her face as she stared at her reflection. Did it really matter what he thought? No matter how hard she tried to convince herself otherwise, she couldn’t stop thinking about him. She couldn’t stop from wanting to be in his arms in a passionate embrace as his lips melded with hers in a kiss that would last all night.

Earlier he’d tried to tell her he wasn’t staking his lust on her, and although she wanted to believe him, deep down inside she knew he was a man who wanted one thing...and he’d use her to get it. Men were all alike. They wanted power and money, and they’d do anything to get to that station in life.

Juliana would
not
be Andrew’s play toy while they were here. He would
not
use her!

She turned away from the mirror, grabbed her elbow-length white gloves, and walked out the door. As she pushed her hands into the gloves, she made her way to Andrew’s room. Although she really just wanted to meet him downstairs, there were still a few things she needed to tell him before he started meeting her family’s friends. When she stood in front of his door, she knocked softly. After a few seconds, she knocked again. No answer.

Curiously, she placed her hand on the knob and turned. The door swung open. Immediately, Andrew’s manly scent of spice and leather enveloped her and she closed her eyes briefly and took in a deep breath. She stepped inside. “Andrew?”

Walking in further, she glanced around the spacious area. He was not there. Too bad his scent was, because she could crawl in his bed, hug his pillow, and do nothing but inhale his intoxicating smell. But she wouldn’t.

She glanced around the clean room. No clothes thrown haphazardly anywhere. Even his dressing table had been straightened...except for the letter on the edge. Curiosity won and she picked up the paper. His name had been scrawled on the outside—or the name she’d given him anyway. She turned it over and read.

 

“You’re in over your head, boy. Go back home before someone gets hurt. It just might be you.”

 

Sucking in a quick breath, she scanned the missive once more. Who would write this to Andrew? But more importantly, why hadn’t he shown this to her the moment he received it? Didn’t he know how important this was? If there were indeed someone out there who knew his true identity, it would mean disaster to both of them.

For some inane reason, he didn’t deem this an important matter. Inwardly, she growled. Well, she’d find him now and discuss this matter. How could she enjoy her birthday party with this threat looming over her head?

Impossible!

Chapter Nine

 

Andrew adjusted the cravat at his throat as he stared at the side mirror in the ballroom. Never in his wildest dreams did he think he’d be dressing for an elaborate party where lords and ladies presided. If they only knew his true past, they would usher him out posthaste...escorted by vicious dogs, no less. Society must never know. Not even Juliana.

But what if
Maddie
discovered his secret?

Andrew let out a gush of pent-up air.
Maddie
was too suspicious for her own good. Not only that, she was so willing to please him. She made him nervous, and that wasn’t a good thing. He must not give her any ammunition. For now, he would play her game without encouraging her...somehow.

He turned away from the mirror and walked toward the string quartet readying their instruments. Andrew glanced in the hallway, anxious to see Juliana again, and wondered why he even felt this way. Hadn’t she stomped on his emotions enough in the short time they had been here? Yet it was his fault. He kept throwing his heart out for her to crush. He couldn’t help it. She was his wife, and he wanted a real marriage.

As the servants busied themselves with the last minute preparations, Andrew walked out of the ballroom. As he turned the corner, Juliana stepped in front of him. They both stopped immediately. Her eyes widened, but he pulled his gaze away from her face to sweep over her dress.

Literally, her beauty took his breath away. He’d never seen any woman so desirable in red and white silk. Her creamy neck and shoulders beckoned him to taste, which he wanted to immediately. That wouldn’t be proper at this time, though.

He bowed, straightened then held out his elbow. “May I escort you into the ballroom, my lovely?”

She scowled.
“Not yet, Mr. Lawrence.”
Grabbing his arm, she pulled him down the hallway into a side room.

Although she didn’t appear to be in the loving mood at the moment, he couldn’t fathom why she would want him alone unless to sneak a kiss.
No. She had squashed his hopes of getting physical earlier today.

“Pray tell, Juliana. What has you in a dither?”

She closed the door behind her, spun around, and planted her hands on her small hips. “Why did you not tell me about the letter?”

“What letter?”

“You know perfectly well what letter. The one addressed to Andrew Lawrence.
The one on your dressing table.”

He cocked his head and arched his brow. “What were you doing in my room without my permission,
dear wife
?”

“Quit changing the subject.” She flipped her hand through the air. “Answer my question.”

He stepped up to her, nose-to-nose, meeting her hard glare. “I will as soon as you tell me why you were in my room.”

She rolled her eyes.
“To talk with you a moment before my party.”

“And why did you sneak through my room when you realized I was not there?”

“I did no such thing. I happened to notice a missive on your table with your name on it, so I picked it up and read it.” She huffed. “Is that a crime?”

“No. Just trespassing on my privacy, when you have clearly stated I am nothing but your
servant.

She folded her arms. “Now it’s your turn, Andrew. Why did you not tell me about that letter?”

Taking a step back, he shrugged. “I did not want to bother you on your birthday with something so mundane.”


Mundane
? A threat is not mundane.”

Inwardly, he seethed. “It is,” he bit out, “when it’s your birthday party and we’re supposed to act like we’re newly married and in love.”

“Oh!” She spun around and paced the floor. “Why do you not understand? That letter means somebody knows you. They know about our farce.”

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