Page 96 of A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Heirs

Clasping his hand to her face, Juliana made a decision. She could prove her love and commitment to Victor that very night. “Don’t go. Stay the rest of the night with me. I’ll figure out a way to sneak you from the house early in the morning before the servants rise.”

Heat from his gaze scorched her. “If you insist.”

Victor never imaginedJuliana would invite him to spend the night with her, even if Nash had implied she would swoon into his arms from his heroics of climbing three stories to herwindow. But at that moment, as she stood before him—the light from the lamp shining through her nightrail and outlining her figure—he could think of nothing else but making love to her.

Yet, he couldn’t presume that’s what she meant. An escritoire with a delicate chair sat against the wall, and a settee too small even for a woman to stretch out, much less for a man his size, was at the foot of the four-poster bed. He supposed he could sleep on the floor. “May I borrow one of your pillows?”

Vertical lines formed between her eyes, and he wished to smooth them away with a kiss. “Why?”

Pointing to the floor, he answered. “To sleep.”

Cheeks darkening, she gave him a shy smile. “There are plenty of pillows on my bed. When I asked you to spend the night with me, I meant...”

“You want us to make love?”

So soft, he barely heard her reply as her gaze darted to the lush Aubusson carpet. “Yes.”

Wrapped up in the marvel of the woman before him, Victor remained silent and relished the moment. The gravity of Juliana’s offer wasn’t lost on him. In giving herself to him before marriage, she would not only prove her love, but her promise to marry him.

When he didn’t respond, her gaze shot back to his. “Unless you don’t want to.”

“Oh, I want to. I want to very much.” With the back of his fingers, he traced the delicate curve of her cheek and relished in the velvet softness of her skin. “I didn’t do you justice.”

She blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Your portrait. I believed it to be good, but I realize now it doesn’t compare to you in this moment. The blush of your cheeks, the glow of love in your eyes, the way your lips part as if ready to whisper words of longing. Why didn’t I see it before? Nash was right. I’m a blind dolt.”

“See what?”

“How much you love me. I want you to see that love in me, too, Juliana.”

She took his hand, still stroking her face and kissed the palm. Her eyes widened. “Your hands! And your poor face. You’re hurt.”

Tugging his arm, she led him to the chair by the escritoire. “Sit.”

A chuckle rumbled his chest at her assertiveness. “As you wish.”

At the washbasin, she dipped in a cloth and wrung it out. “Let me see your hands.”

Palms up, he laid his hands on his thighs. Abrasions, red but not deep, marked his palms and fingers from the rough brick of the outside wall.

With tenderness that made his chest ache, she knelt at his feet and dabbed at the lash on his face the ivy branch left, then cleaned his hands. “I should have done something sooner. Thank goodness they’re not any worse. Your hands are precious.”

As she fussed over him, he wanted to give her the same loving attention. To cradle her with so much love and care, she would never doubt his feelings for her.

Satisfied the scrapes were clean, she rose and stepped to her dressing table. “I have some salve that will help with the healing.” Back at his feet, she dabbed the soothing salve on his face and hands. She grinned up at him. “Sometimes I ride without my gloves.”

“Such a rebel.” He grinned back at her.

Her laugh, bright and airy, did more to heal him than the salve she applied. Mischief glinted in her eyes. “It’s one of the reasons you love me, is it not?”

“One of the many. True.” He pulled her hands away from their ministrations, and rising, pulled her to her feet. “That’s enough. I need another type of medicine.”

“Oh?”

“Medicine for the heart.” Drawing her close, he kissed her—slow and deep, and the world beyond her ceased to exist. “Much better,” he whispered against her lips. “It’s working.” Long and leisurely, the intensity of the kiss increased as he savored her sweet lips, and when she opened for him, he teased her with his tongue, pleased when she met him stroke for stroke.

He tangled his fingers in her hair, silk-smooth and warm, and drew her closer with each kiss, unable to get enough of her. Breathless, he pulled back and lightly kissed her nose. “You set me off balance, Juliana.”

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