Page 44 of Taken By the Broken Duke
“I tracked you. Do you know where you would have ended up if I hadn’t?”
“I was going to Little…” Juliet stammered.
“Littlenowhere! The direction you were following would have taken you out into the downs where there are no houses or even shepherd’s huts for miles. You could have been killed!”
He fell to his knees before her, angrily pushing wet hair out of her face. She lay on the ground before him, propped up on her arms, body becoming increasingly soaked by the downpour.
“Would you have cared? You have not spoken to me for days!” Juliet shouted.
“I am here, am I not?” Horatio replied. “I have tried to stay away from you but can only think of you swimming in the mere. Of how close my body was to yours in that water. Your cousin tells me you are a liar. But I cannot believe it!”
“I have not lied to you. Not once!” Juliet insisted. “I have kept my illness from my Aunt because I feared she would cast me out if she discovered it. They were afraid of my mother when she was ill, isolated her as though she was a leper.”
“You did not fear that I would have the same reaction?” Horatio asked.
“Of course I did! It would have broken my heart to see that fear in your eyes. But, I had to tell you. You decided we would be married so how could I not.”
“Did you decide to run away so that you didn’t have to watch me do the same?”
“No, because I did not want you to grieve when the illness takes me,” Juliet cried.
“I had a choice today. To let you go and accept your cousin’s hand or to come after you. I am here,” Horatio said simply.
For a long moment, their eyes locked together. The rain vanished. The wind and thunder became insubstantial. Time slowed. Juliet felt something she had not felt for a long time. A tiny spark within her. A fragile flame that burst into life, wavering weakly.Hope. She shook her head, trying to quench that spark.
“No, it cannot be. I will not make you a widower,” she said with determination, “go to Jane Bonel. Go to Carlisle and be happy!”
She pushed herself to her feet but Horatio caught her hand. He remained on his knees. Juliet stood over him, looking down. Slowly, he pressed the back of her hand to his lips. Juliet almost swooned from the sensation of his lips upon her skin. He was warm and that warmth seemed to enter her, to flow along her veins.
Hesitantly, she reached up with her free hand and held it over his head. Then she ran her fingers through his hair. She shuddered, muscles trembling involuntarily from sheer ecstasy.
Those two points of contact, his lips on her hand and her fingers in his hair, became the center of all of her senses.
From those points of touch, sensations reached out into her body. Shuddering pleasure. Tingling excitement.
Horatio raised his head, looking up at her. Then he was standing, towering over her, arms going about her waist to pull her close to him. Juliet’s heart hammered in her chest as though about to burst. She felt as though she could not catch her breath. Her cheeks felt hot and her hands cold. He took both of her hands into his own and she felt the warmth of his body flowing into her. He kissed her fingertips where they peeked out of the grip in which he held them. Juliet thought of being kissed by him, a little at a time, from her fingers to her palms to her wrists.
She gasped in delirium at the images that swam up in her imagination. Then all thought fled her mind as he lowered his face to hers and kissed her on the lips.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Juliet melted into Horatio’s arms.
Her body pushed against his and she felt the hard muscles of his chest and stomach. Her hands were pressed against his pectorals, feeling the steel of his physique. She pressed with her fingertips, wanting to touch the tight skin beneath the clothes that separated them. Then she let her hands slip down, feeling the contours of his body.
It was deliciously reckless. Wonderfully wanton.
Her lips became warm and then hot, pressed against his. Her body was afire. His strong arms enveloped her, holding her against him. She had felt the strength of those arms before but never in passion. Now, she was acutely aware of his hands on her body. Aware that only thin layers of fabric separated them. A thin layer but frustratingly present, nonetheless.
Her head spun at the notion of being stripped of that barrier. She had been naked before him once. A barrier of branches and leaves had been all that protected her modesty then. He had not looked, she was sure. Now, he could if he wished.
Juliet moaned as his lips left hers, a moan of frustration. Until they returned to kiss her neck. Her body went limp, knees weak until she was held up by his embrace alone.
A sound reached her from behind. It was the growling of an angered animal. Reality rammed itself home into her consciousness.
Her eyes opened just as the crashing began. The crashing of an angry, bellowing bull forcing its way through the undergrowth.
Juliet looked up, seeing Horatio stare over her head, his eyes widening in alarm. Then he was spinning around, thrusting Juliet away from him. She fell, looking back to see Horatio placing himself between her and the man who was rushing out of the bushes with a long-bladed knife held low. His eyes were alight with malice and his face was covered in blood. He screamed his rage as he came, swinging back his arm to lash out with the knife in a deadly arc.
