Love's Portrait (22 page)

He’d always presented such a sure and confident façade. To think that Morgan St. Claire, renowned womanizer, might be uncertain of her was astonishing. In the next moment, his hard kiss against her mouth drove all thought from her head, and every nerve ending in her body pulsed with a steady rhythm that cried out for completion.

∫

Morgan pulled Julia down to the large Brussels carpet beneath their feet. The moment they reached the floor, he tore his way out of the rest of his clothing all too cognizant of her feverish kisses along the line of his jaw and down to the base of his throat. He released a harsh breath at the way her touch aroused not only his body, but his heart as well.

His hands cupped her face as he slid his tongue past her lips to explore the warmth of her mouth. She tasted like a delicious blend of sweet wine and fiery cognac. Their tongues mated in a hot duel of desire, until his cock ached to be buried inside her heat.

Unable to wait any more, he fell backward to the floor, pulling her with him. Silky skin caressed the pads of his fingers as he grasped her round hips, then with a sharp tug he settled her slick velvet folds over his hardness. As her honeyed sweetness slid over him, he surged up into her with a guttural cry of pleasure.

Christ, she felt good wrapped around his cock. Her muscles clutched and squeezed him with intense pleasure. It would be fast this time, but there would be plenty of time later to indulge in each other. The spasms rippling over his hard length came fast and furious as she shuddered with each stroke. Arching her back, she pressed her hands into the top of his thighs meeting his thrusts with equal measure. She’d come to him, and after today, she would always be his. As she rode him at a frantic pace, a familiar tightening grabbed at his groin, and as he thrust his body against hers one last time, he uttered a low cry as his cock throbbed hard inside her

Her release quickly followed his, and she shuddered violently over him before falling forward. For several long moments, they didn’t move as the tremors cascading through her subsided. Spent from the intensity of their lovemaking, he pulled her close against him, nestling her against his chest. He’d never known such contentment as this, and it was all her doing. His life and happiness rested in her hands.

∫

The keen emotions coursing through Julia’s veins frightened her. All the what ifs held the last small vestiges of her heart hostage. Yet despite her fears, she was convinced she belonged in Morgan’s arms. Warm lips pressed against her forehead as a soft laugh rumbled out of him.

“You continue to amaze me, sweetheart. I always knew you had a bold streak in you, but you’ve surpassed anything I’d imagined.” The tenderness in his voice tugged at Julia’s heart. Raising herself up to hover over him, she smiled.

“Does that mean you like it when I’m naughty?” she teased. Morgan laughed and nodded.

“Absolutely. And when we’re married, I’ll teach you how to be naughtier still.”

His words laced her muscles with tension, and with a quick movement, she pulled away from him and climbed to her feet. Marriage. The dragon reared its terrifying head. How could she make him understand how willing she was to be his mistress? Eager in fact. But marriage? It was out of the question. Without looking at him, she found her undergarments and proceeded to dress.

“Out with it, Julia. Tell me what’s going on in that complex brain of yours.”

With a glance over her shoulder, she saw him sit up and arch his brow at her. One leg bent, his arm rested on top of his knee. She’d never seen a more resplendent picture of male beauty. Strong, muscular, and seductive, he stole her breath away. His gaze narrowed when she didn’t answer. Scrambling to his feet, he caught her arm and turned her to face him.

“Something’s wrong.”

“No. Not really.” She grimaced.

What was she supposed to say to make him understand how she felt? She’d come here because she loved him, but that didn’t change her feelings about marriage. Being his mistress would empower her. It would give her the wherewithal to leave him if he ever betrayed her. The matrimonial state would strip her of her rights, her independence.

“I know you better than that,” he snapped. She bit down on her lip as she met his troubled gaze.

“A few moments ago, you told me you’d do anything for me.”

“Is that what this is all about?” Relief eased the lines of tension in his face. “You want me to do something for you.”

“Yes. I want to be your mistress.”

“
What
?” Disbelief stiffened his features, and his fingers bit painfully into her shoulders making her wince.

“It’s the best solution.” She flinched at the anger darkening his face.

“Best for whom?” He pushed her away from him then turned to snatch up his clothing from the floor. “Christ Jesus, you came here knowing full well you had no intention of marrying me.”

“No, that’s not true,” she cried out. The bitter accusation sliced into her heart. “I didn’t plan any of this.”

“What do you take me for, Julia? A fool? You said you loved me, what else was I supposed to think?” The icy note in his voice frightened her as she watched him jerk on his trousers with unrestrained violence.

“I do love you,” she said quietly. Sick at heart, she continued to dress while her gaze kept track of his angry movements. She should have known he would react this way. As he shrugged into his shirt, he whipped around to face her.

“Tell me why you refuse to marry me.”

“I…it’s just that…I just can’t be with you in that way, Morgan.”

“That’s not an answer and you know it,” he ground out through clenched teeth.

“I told you I loved you, what more do you want? I will not give up my independence.”

Defiant in the face of his anger, she tugged viciously at the laces of her corset. The man was just being stubborn. Why couldn’t he be satisfied with the fact that she was willing to be with him? Admitting that she loved him had been difficult enough. She grabbed her dress up off the floor and threw it on over her head.

“I’ll tell you what I want,” he said in a tight voice. “I want you to love me with all your heart, not just a part of it.”

“I do love you,” she snapped.

“You think you love me, but if you really did, you’d trust me not to hurt you. Love involves trust, Julia. You can’t have one without the other.” The quiet resignation in his voice said she was losing the battle to make him understand why she refused to marry him. It shot a bolt of panic through her.

“Oh God, Morgan, I can’t. Don’t you understand? I can’t take that sort of risk.”

“Life’s a risk Julia, without it there’s no reward. I want all of your love, not just a piece of it. You’re my passion, and if I can’t have all of you, then God help me, I’ll find a way to live without you.” Without looking at her, he strode toward the study door and turned the key.

“Morgan please…I you don’t understand—”

“I think you know the way out.” He yanked the door open so hard it protested with a loud squeal against the violence. An instant later, he was gone, taking her heart and soul with him.

Chapter 15

Storming up the stairs, Morgan reached the second floor landing and strode down the hall to the master bedroom. His anger had the force of a steam engine over its limit. The door to his room flew back from his violent rage to crack loudly against the wall. Damn her.

He paced the room, his body tense with frustration. Halting his frenzied stride, he slammed the bottom of his fist into the window frame. In the street below, he saw Julia hesitate in front of her carriage. For a split second, he held his breath as she turned back toward the front door. An instant later, she whirled about and hurried to the vehicle.

Christ Jesus, it had
never
occurred to him that she might have the audacity to offer herself up as his mistress. He didn’t want a mistress. He wanted a wife. A woman to bear his children, someone to love him in spite of his faults. Someone to grow old with. He wanted Julia.

There had been no hesitation in her when she’d performed that dance of seduction for him. She hadn’t wavered in tantalizing his cock with her mouth or the rest of her delicious curves. And yet, afterward, she’d blatantly refused to commit herself. She’d been unwilling to trust him. Hell, she’d even admitted she was in love with him, but she’d stopped short at making the commitment he wanted her to make. What was it going to take to convince her that he could be trusted?

His fist thudded against the window jamb one more time before he strode to the middle of the room. One hand rubbing the back of his neck, he closed his eyes and remembered the feel of her against him. After all this time away from her, it had been like a taste of heaven to have Julia in his arms again.

Self-preservation had driven him to work nights over the past few weeks simply because he didn’t think he’d be able to stay away from her if he’d seen her on a daily basis in his offices. Stress had eventually taken its toll, and he’d succumbed to a migraine. The past few days had been a living hell of pain and despair.

He’d almost given up hope that she would come to him, and then she’d walked into his study on the pretense of ensuring he was well. She’d come to him. Even confessed that she loved him. How the Marlborough Set would laugh if they knew a woman had brought Morgan St. Claire to his knees.

God, the irony of it all. How many times had he had women beg him not to leave them? Beg him to love them. He’d never been cruel when breaking off an affair, but now, he fully understood the pain those women had experienced when he’d left them. Now, he was the one willing to beg. And if he thought for one moment that it would make a difference with Julia, he would gladly humble himself again. He was willing to do anything.

No. The one thing he wouldn’t do was keep her as his mistress. The one thing he wanted the most from Julia was her full heart. She loved him, but he wanted her to trust him too. Being his mistress would make it far too easy for her to walk away from him the moment her fear took over.

What the hell was he going to do? Worse yet, what was he to do with this monstrosity of a house? The empty silence of it tugged at him with a wrenching ache. Both hands clutched the back of his head as he stared down at the floor. When she’d come through his study door, it had taken every inch of will power he possessed not to pull her into his arms and overwhelm her senses with lovemaking. But he’d promised himself to let her choose. He just never thought he could lose her. Living without Julia was going to be harder than anything he’d ever done before in his life.

His gut tightened with emotion and he knew the only remedy for dealing with his pain was work. He’d work until he’d driven her out of his head, out of his blood. He’d work until he was numb from everything. The numbness would take away this ache inside him. With a grunt, he strode out of the bedroom to go to the office. There at least he could keep his mind focused on something other than Julia.

∫

The woman in the portrait smiled at her. A self-satisfied, confident smile. Glaring at the painting, she turned away from the artwork and started to pace the floor of her bedroom. Why couldn’t she be like that woman? She wanted to, but she didn’t know how. No, that wasn’t true. She’d been that bold, seductive woman in Morgan’s study more than two weeks ago. It still amazed her how audacious she’d been in her efforts to seduce him. But how to be the woman in the portrait wasn’t the problem, what she lacked was the courage to be that woman.

She was a fool. Her refusal to marry Morgan was the worst decision she’d ever made. Choice hadn’t been an issue when she married Oscar. Her mother had seen to that. But Morgan was different, she could have agreed to his marriage proposal if she’d only had the fortitude to do so. He’d said he wanted her trust, and she wanted desperately to give that to him. She simply didn’t know how.

The sound of the doorbell echoed softly through her room. Unable to help herself, she raced out into the upstairs hall. When she reached the top of the steps, she struggled to keep her disappointment from showing as she met Catherine’s arched look.

“Well that’s a fine look to greet me with,” her cousin said with a bite of humor. “I take it you were hoping to see someone else.”

“No, not exactly…I just thought—oh it’s not important.” Julia wait for Catherine to climb the stairs then led the way into the upstairs salon.

“You thought I was Morgan St. Claire.” Catherine’s statement made Julia jerk her head around to eye her cousin.

“I did not.” Ignoring the protest, Catherine swept across the room to the fireplace. As she tugged off her gloves in precise movements, she gave Julia a stern look.

“Do not treat me like I’m an addle–brained halfwit. You were hoping St. Claire was charging up those stairs to whisk you away.”

“Now you’re being ridiculous.” Julia flipped her hand at her cousin in a dismissive gesture.

“No, that would be
your
forte, my dear.” Catherine shook her finger at her. “I thought you had more backbone than this.”

“Even if I found the courage to do something, it’s too late now. He doesn’t want me anymore.” Julia averted her gaze from the disappointment in her cousin’s eyes.

“How do you know that?”

“I just do. Our last parting was far from amicable.” She flinched at the memory of Morgan’s cold anger as he stood at the door of his study telling her to see herself out. The claw marks on her heart still lay open and bleeding from that moment.

“Well, it would seem St. Claire has forgotten about that little misunderstanding.” Catherine sent her a triumphant look. “I saw the man this morning on Rotten Row, and what do you think the first thing out of his mouth was? It was to ask about you.”

The declaration made her heart leap and she turned away from Catherine to hide the hope she knew had to be lighting her face. He’d asked about her. Even despite his anger, he’d inquired as to how she was. Alarm shot through her. Oh God—Catherine was not known for her discretion, but rather for her blunt speech. What had she told him? Whirling back around, she scowled at her cousin.