Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
“ J ulie—”
Horatio came awake with Juliet’s name on his lips. He lay in his bed, sheets and blankets discarded. His bedroom window was ajar and rain sleeted in, soaking his pale cheekbones. For a long moment, he lay staring at the ceiling. There had been a dream, rapidly fading from his mind. The feel of that woman’s naked body was almost tangible. The taste of her still lingered in his mouth.
Who was this woman who could deceive him so, yet inveigle herself so thoroughly into his thoughts? What manner of seductress was she?
At this moment, the siren was in the guest wing of Ravenscourt. Her Aunt occupied a suite of rooms on the next floor, demanding nothing less than the finest chambers Ravenscourt possessed. Her husband and youngest had returned to their home, but Lady Margaret had steadfastly refused to allow her niece to remain at Ravenscourt alone.
A hand swiped across his face to smother the damp rainwater, and Horatio rose, walking across the wet floor to shut the window.
The dream haunted him. So vivid. So real .
“ You belligerent fool ,” he muttered beneath his breath. “ Always craving the affections of those who betrayed you . From your father, to this manipulative chit —”
As he reached into the chilly summer night air to close the window, his hand paused mid-motion. A light, faint and wavering through the veil of falling droplets, caught his eye. It was below the level on which his personal quarters were located. He could not see the window from which the light spilled directly, merely the faint glow of orange that spilled onto a courtyard below.
The dim light illuminated the edge of the garden where a fox padded cautiously through the unkempt shrubs that had been allowed to run wild on the land. Its pointed ears twitched, and it lifted its muzzle, sniffing the air towards the light. As Horatio watched, it leaped gracefully, jaws snapping to catch something tossed down from above. Chewing and swallowing its prize, the creature settled back on its haunches, patient and expectant. Moments later, the pattern repeated—a toss, a leap, and a catch.
Horatio leaned against the cool stone of the window embrasure, observing with detached curiosity. Perhaps one of his kitchen staff was feeding the creature—or someone else with a penchant for strays. He shook his head, amused, and turned to retreat from the window.
But then a sound stopped him. A soft, feminine hum, carried on the breeze. He frowned, glancing back out. The fox had vanished. The sound came again, almost a whisper, light and lilting. His pulse quickened as he scanned the darkened garden and, finding no source there, let his gaze rise. And then he saw it.
Her .
His breath caught as Juliet’s bare, shapely leg swung idly from her window, pale and perfect against the dark stone of the castle wall. His body tensed as he took in the delicate curve of her calf, the pointed arch of her foot flexing lightly in the cool night air. The soft lamplight silhouetted her figure, the thin fabric of her nightdress clinging indecently to her form and riding high on her thighs, revealing the perfect line of her flesh. Heat shot through him, fast and unrelenting, as his mind filled with images he should not entertain.
She shifted, her hand running absentmindedly down the curve of her calf, over her thigh, before disappearing into the folds of her nightdress. Horatio gripped the cold stone frame, unable to tear his eyes away, as his imagination ran wild, filling in the rest. What he wouldn’t give to trace that same path himself, to feel the smooth warmth of her skin beneath his hands, to watch her tremble as he explored further...
A groan escaped him, low and frustrated, as he tore his gaze away, pressing his forehead to the cold stone of the embrasure. This was madness. Dangerous madness . His body ached with desire, a craving so sharp it threatened to unmake him. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to look away, to master the madness overtaking him.
But he couldn’t. Against his better judgment, he stole another glance.
She moved again, the delicate rise of her arm and the slow stretch of her leg, as if reaching for something unseen. His breath hitched. Was she thinking of him? His jaw clenched as he imagined her fingers drifting higher, exploring, seeking. The thought of her alone in her chamber, touching herself while he stood here, helpless and tormented, was maddening. If he were closer, would he hear her soft sighs? Would she whisper his name, her voice husky with longing…
A sudden crack sounded through the still night as his knee knocked hard against the edge of the embrasure. The humming stopped abruptly.
His pulse leaped into his throat. She must have heard. He froze, the silence stretching unbearably thin, before panic took over. Moving swiftly, he stumbled back from the window, his heart pounding as he cursed himself for his carelessness. The ache within him was unbearable, but staying here—unthinkable.
Without a second glance, he spun on his heel and hurried from the room. He needed distance, a distraction, anything to smother the maddening hold she had on him. Somewhere far from that window, far from that manipulative creature!