The Trouble with Anna

Chapter 31

CHAPTER 31

J ULIAN’S BLOOD WAS ON FIRE . It had been seething in his veins since his first glimpse of Anna among the crowd tonight looking half glorious and half furious, rather like a hissing swan. If he was honest, his blood had seethed since he first met her, sometimes with fury but often just with need. And now he was supposed to take her to Lord Maltraver’s study , of all wretched places, and fight to keep his hands off her when they were already aching to press her up against the wall and inspect every inch of her for hurts, then drive his fist into her cousin’s jaw, then get back to Anna’s inches and whatever else Lord Maltraver’s study might inspire.

His temper spiked again. Other parts of his body spiked too. He dragged his mind away from Lord Maltraver’s study and imagined Lord Barton’s head on a spike.

Anna twisted to look behind her. “Shouldn’t we stay? We can’t abandon your grandmother to those people.”

“She’s fine. She’s an army in Dowager form. She could obliterate them both with a well-timed word.”

Speaking of people to obliterate, a certain prince came to mind. Perhaps in a dungeon, on a particularly gruesome rack. Then there was that fat-wit Hartley—

Anna gave a slight tug on Julian’s elbow, but he ignored her.

—that fat-wit Hartley, up to his neck in a vat of boiling—

“Take me back to the ball. Please.”

The faint quiver in Anna’s voice caught Julian’s attention as nothing else could. “You’re shaking, damn it. Are you all right?”

“Of course I am. They caught me by surprise, that’s all. I ought to get back to the dancing—I’m sure I’m engaged to someone for the next set.” Anna fumbled for her poor, neglected dance card.

Julian put his hand over hers, absorbed the faint trembles with the warmth of his palm. It pleased him absurdly to comfort her, even so slightly. She was still alarmingly pale, though, even for Anna, whose skin made milk look flushed.

He shot her a crooked smile. “Your dance card? Why try for propriety now, my renegade, when you’ve ignored it so magnificently all evening?”

Her eyebrows snapped together and she gave the hallway a frown. “I swear I remember something about dark corridors and how I must not allow gentlemen to lure me down them. Julian, where are you taking me?”

“For a rest. In Lord Maltraver’s study.”

God help us both.

He hustled her up a short flight of stairs and pushed the wide door open.

“Right.” Anna took a deep, shuddering breath and straightened her spine as if girding herself for battle. But when she raised her eyes to his at last, they were as black as bruises. “I don’t need a rest. I’m ready to go back.”

Oh, damn.

He was in trouble now.

One hint of bravery from her—one hint that she needed to be brave—and his chest exploded. He wanted to bash things for her. He wanted to throw his cape over a damned puddle to spare her slippers.

As if Anna cared two bits about slippers.

What she cared about was crowded balls filled with jeering people, and she needed his help. Even if she refused to admit it.

Julian raised an eyebrow and issued a challenge. “Gran was right. You don’t trust yourself to be alone with me.”

“Rubbish!” She marched straight into the room, and Julian had to smother a grin. Such a dependable little warrior. Anna always found her courage when she had someone to fight.

He followed her in. “I apologize if being around me makes you nervous.”

Anna lifted her chin in an attempt at haughtiness. “In truth, I have very little reaction to you one way or another.”

There was no fire lit in the study, but it wasn’t quite dark either. Light from the lanterns swaying in the garden below poured through the large windows, glowing like dark amber. Julian leaned back against the desk and stretched his long legs, while Anna crossed the room to the point farthest from him.

“If you’re not nervous, why have you fled to the windows?”

Color flooded back into her cheeks. “I haven’t fled! I only wanted to look outside.”

“I don’t recommend it. Not unless you’d like to be spotted and set the Ton to speculating.”

Anna scuttled back to the middle of the room. “Surely they can’t see me?”

“No. But they can make out your silhouette and they’ll wonder.”

He could feel her slight shiver, even from across the room. How eternally unfair it was to be so attuned to her, as if her body sent out signal flares, lighting his path toward her.

Julian remained planted in place.

This is a rescue mission, not a seduction.

She glanced up at him, bit her lip, and glanced away again.

Oh Christ, was that her pulse low at the base of her throat, beating harder at his nearness?

She’s not your fiancée. She’s made it clear she doesn’t want you.

Damn Maltraver and damn his study. Julian could swear Anna felt the charge in the room, that she was leaning toward him just as he felt himself leaning toward her. He’d bet his whole fortune that the smooth stretch of her neck had begun to ache for the scrape of his teeth, that her lips were starting to pout at the thought of his kiss.

His hands clenched into fists.

Even if she wants you, she doesn’t want to act on it.

Anna looked at him. The air felt so thick he thought he could eat it. Against all good sense, Julian began to hope. Surely she couldn’t resist the pull any more than he could?

“Julian?” Her small voice was alarmingly loud in the quiet room.

“Yes?”

She licked her lips, leaving them glistening. “As long as we’re alone up here, I have a question I wanted to ask you.”

“Yes?” he said again.

“It’s just that… I’ve never understood why—” She stopped abruptly. “Never mind.”

In the faint light, he could see her face burn. He wanted to feel the heat of her cheeks, wanted everything about her.

“What?”

“It’s only… before, when you—” She stopped again, as if the words wouldn’t quite form.

“Yes?”

“I… I can never see the reason that you kept kissing me.”

He frowned. “Why the hell do you think I kissed you?”

“I don’t know! A kiss on the cheek to mark our engagement, maybe. But how could you kiss me that way, when you don’t feel—”

Two strides was all it took to reach her. “What don’t I feel?”

“Never mind!” she cried.

They were close, too close for his composure and yet not nearly close enough. He was aware of her every contour and slight curve, but he was not allowed to touch.

“I kissed you for one reason, the only reason to kiss someone—because I couldn’t stand not to. I want to kiss you now. It’s all I can think of when you’re near. Never say I don’t feel, Anna. I feel too damned much.”

She didn’t answer, only stared up at him, her eyes pools of black, her tart mouth falling open. Everything he’d lost, standing right before him.

“Do you want me to kiss you now?” he demanded.

She made a small, unconscious sound and his blood stopped pumping.

“Do you want me to kiss you?”

She didn’t answer, just looked at him with those wide, dark eyes, full of yearning.

“Anna. Please say yes.”

When it came, it was the faintest whisper. “Yes.”

Julian hauled her against him. His whole body was urgent, each nerve ending alive and intent. The heat of her curled around him and he fisted one hand in the back of her gown as the other hand cupped the curve of her ass and pulled her flush.

Anna gasped, and their lips met. Long, desperate, dragging kisses, full of need and the mangled feelings he’d carried for weeks, trying to say with his body what he could never put into words.

“Christ, Anna!” It was a prayer whispered against her skin. She shivered, and he nipped the base of her neck, again and again, until she exhaled a little breath of encouragement.

She arched her neck and her gown dipped low across her chest, the tops of her breasts moving with each breath she took, her skin so impossibly smooth that his stomach clenched. He slipped his hand beneath the gossamer netting to cup her breast.

Her heart beat so fast.

Everything was fast with Anna.

“Oh!” she breathed, and he swooped down to coax more from her mouth. His need was building fast, the need to touch her, feel her. To make her his , damn it.

Julian lifted her up, carrying her to the desk and setting her on top of it so he could ease between her legs. Her gown slipped off one pale shoulder and he murmured a prayer of thanks and helped it down, until she was naked to the waist. Her body was compact, strong, and he could see the play of muscle over her rib cage. Her breasts were small and almost flat to her chest, just slight curves with pink nipples rising up at him in challenge. He sucked in a breath, and she watched him, her eyes wide and nervous, as if she might bolt like a runaway horse.

Julian nibbled the sweet lobe of her ear.

“So beautiful,” he whispered.

She yanked back from him, bristled up. “Don’t say such things!”

Damn it. She didn’t believe him and he couldn’t blame her. He hated how long it had taken to see her truly. “You’re beautiful,” he insisted.

She pulled her bodice up. “Stop it!”

Julian shoved a hand through his hair. “Christ, Anna, be beautiful or not beautiful, but don’t be blind! You must see how much I fucking want you.”

The frustration in his voice made her look up, take his measure. Those dark eyes of hers were filled with the suspicion that was so much a part of her… until slowly, they softened.

Anna raised her arms to his shoulders and her bodice fell again. His head descended with it, and he took a nipple in his mouth. She sucked in a breath.

His tongue flicked over the other nipple as one hand lowered to her ankle, sliding up over her calf, absorbing the feel of her silky stocking over the muscles of her leg. He slid his hand higher, slowly higher, up over her thigh, over the unbearably delicious feeling of her bare skin.

“Julian!” Her voice was small and shocked and ever so slightly… curious?

“You like that.” He liked it too, so much that his voice shook.

Her hands came up into his hair and she made a noise that nearly killed him.

He smiled against her mouth, his heart light as a feather. “More?”

She hid her face against his neck. “More.”

His hand dipped up the slope of her thigh and under her chemise. He moved slowly, greedy for each small noise, each slight shiver, until finally he reached her center.

“My god.” His blood thundered. Never again, he vowed, would he be without some part of him touching some part of her.

Outside a glass broke and a woman laughed, and Julian jerked to attention. The study door was still unlocked, and Anna’s half-naked form was outlined in the soft light.

What the hell have I done?

The answer was clear, with his hand where it had no business being. Anyone could shove into the room and see them and she’d be compromised. Thoroughly.

Julian pulled away and yanked her sleeves up her shoulders, and Anna sat up in alarm, her hair loose from its pins and half-fallen, her lips puffed to twice their size.

“Are you all right?” Julian said sharply. He strode over to the door and snapped the lock shut.

“What?” she asked in a daze.

“We must go down. At once. Can you fix your hair?”

She patted at it, staring at him, and her face paled as she realized how badly things had come askew.

He pushed her hand aside. “Let me.”

“Julian?” Her voice was as faint as mist. He followed the line of her throat as she swallowed. “Are you angry with me? Did I do something… not right?”

“Of course I’m not angry at you.” He tucked the last pin into her hair and stepped back. “I’m angry at myself. I apologize, Anna. I never should have touched you.”

“Oh!” She sprang up from the desk, clutched her dress against her chest. “Oh! Yes, I see!”

Julian shoved a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean it that way. I’m angry at myself because—”

“Don’t explain!” Anna pulled her dress firmly into place, fumbling with the ties at the back. She gave a high, hard laugh. “I can’t think what came over me. It’s the champagne, of course! I must be quite drunk.”

Julian whipped his head toward her. “ What? ”

“Oh yes!” She pressed a shaking hand to her temple. “I’m sure I won’t remember a thing tomorrow.”

His eyes narrowed. “How much have you had to drink?”

She shrugged, and her eyes went wide when his hand came down on her shoulder to hold her still for his inspection. Her color was hectic and her eyes glittered in a way that made his stomach go sour, though they remained as sharp and wary as ever.

Julian pulled her close, took a deep inhale. The sharp, citrus scent of her made him want to draw her to him, but under the lemon-brightness was another, smokier scent.

Scotch.

Julian thought he might be sick. All he could see was the long, gleaming dining table at Ramsay, a decanter of wine at his father’s left and a decanter of scotch to his right. The ugliness of the night that stretched before them.

“You let me kiss you because you’re drunk ?”

She nodded vigorously. “Exceedingly drunk! I had scotch with your grandmother and glass after glass of champagne. I’ll have such a head in the morning.”

Oh god. Julian reeled. Each kiss she’d given him, each hum and sigh that had rewritten him—that he thought was rewriting their future—was because she was drunk ?

“Christ, Anna!” he bit out. “You can’t simply—”

The brightness in Anna’s eyes spilled over and she whirled around and wrapped her arms around herself, hard. As if she were holding herself together.

Something was wrong, badly wrong. Julian tried to think, but a sick feeling fogged his head.

“Turn around, Anna,” he commanded. “Look at me.”

She kept her slim back to him, the ties on her pretty dress askew, her hands still wrapped tight around her middle. Was she drunk? He didn’t see any of the telltale signs, and god knew he was an expert.

Julian took a deep breath, and pulled her stiff form up against him, turning her around.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she cried.

Hell.

Only the truth would do now.

“Because my father was drunk. Often. Violently. I’m afraid I’m not rational when it comes to drink.”

Anna didn’t move, didn’t respond.

“I didn’t touch alcohol for years. Not wine, not claret, not a drop of anything. Poor Charlotte—it gave me fits when she drank champagne, until I understood that she isn’t the same as our father.” He shook Anna gently. “You’re not drunk, are you? Please tell me. It drives me beyond reason not to know.”

“I only said it because I wanted an excuse,” she said in a small voice. “I want to forget this ever happened.”

“Thank god,” said Julian, and buried his face in her hair.

“Stop!” Anna pulled away from him. “First you kiss me, then you shove me away and say horrid things, now you’re… what are you doing? I can’t keep up! I don’t want to!”

He gave an unsteady laugh. “You’re not the only one. I’ve never felt so—”

Never felt so what? So helpless, so out of control? So completely wrapped up in one person that he lost all sense of himself? Anna shimmied out of his arms, and Julian let her go, jamming his hands into his hair.

A strangled laugh escaped him. “I trotted around the ballroom after you tonight like a puppy. I almost got into a duel with Hartley and another with that damned Prince, only because you laugh with them and not with me. Three minutes after entering this room, I had you flat against the desk, and I only stopped because the door was unlocked and someone could have come in at any minute. Do you know, I used to be quite famous for my sangfroid?”

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to say!”

Trust her to pry and probe, to keep him squirming on the hook. Trust her to want what he still struggled to admit. “I’m saying—damn it!—that I’m as mixed up about all this as I suspect you are.”

“Oh.” The fight puffed out of Anna. Her shoulders dropped, just a little, and her eyes darted up to meet his. “Are you saying… You promise all that wasn’t some…” She stumbled to a halt and her hands crept up to her hot cheeks. “You promise you didn’t kiss me to…”

He grinned, much encouraged. “Go on.”

“You promise you weren’t making a fool of me, for some strange purpose of your own? Or that you weren’t simply being… friendly?”

His grin widened. “Exceedingly friendly.”

She didn’t look convinced.

“Painfully friendly? You don’t trust me, and I’ve given you little reason to. But I can’t stay away.” Julian hesitated. “Is it the same for you?”

Anna didn’t say anything. Julian thought he’d asked for too much, until she gave a shrug and muttered, “Yes. It’s awful!”

He pressed a swift, adoring kiss on the base of her neck. “Then we’d better try to stumble through it together.”

Anna paused, and the bleakness on her face made his heart turn over. “Those things you said to Charlotte—they hurt me badly.”

“I know,” he said solemnly. “It went so fast and I got overwhelmed. Perhaps we can try again, more slowly this time?”

He let her search his face and she gave a helpless laugh, as she always did when she knew it was time to stop fighting. “All right. We’ll try again.”

Julian pulled her back to him and kissed her one last time. “You, my lightning, taste better than lemon cake.”

“How would you know, when you never eat any?” she retorted, to hide her blush, though soon enough she was frowning up at him. “If we’re speaking frankly, why is that?”

“Why is what?” He tugged her toward the door, hoping she would forget the whole subject, but she dug her heels in and waited for his answer. Like a hound over a foxhole, she waited.

“I don’t like anything that makes me feel undisciplined,” he muttered at last. “I don’t like anything that makes me feel like my father.”

Her face softened. “Oh, Julian! I’m so—”

“Eager to kiss me? I’m all in favor, jezebel, but I’m afraid we must get you back to the ball.”