“Exactly.”
“In light of that”—his eyes sought and held hers—“and given that, no matter how much we would prefer to move more slowly, at our own pace, not even the pair of us together can withstand the social might of the ton, we’re going to have to step up to the challenge of taking our next step now and making our declaration—our ultimate commitment—or they’ll badger us until we do.”
She studied his face. “Your negotiator side is showing. It’s not stepping up to a challenge but bending to their will. However”—she held up her hand in a staying gesture—“now that I can think more clearly, I can see the necessity. Gritting our teeth and clinging to our preferred timetable isn’t going to work.”
His lips twisted wryly. “And ultimately, the end result will be the same.”
She hesitated, then said, “Once we take the next step and speak of dates for our engagement ball and our wedding, there’ll be no going back.”
He looked at her, then rose, drawing on her hand to bring her to her feet. From a distance of mere inches, his eyes held hers. “I don’t want to go back.”
This close, she could feel the attraction thrumming between them. She licked suddenly dry lips and, trapped in his gray gaze, murmured, “Nor do I.”
The ends of his lips lifted. “Well, then.”
He bent his head, and instantly, she lifted her lips to his.
To her delight, this kiss was different again—firmer, more passionate, immediately more fiery—as if their decision had freed something inside him and inside her as well.
The hunger that had, it seemed, grown since Wednesday reared up and demanded, and they supped and sipped and sought to appease it, only to have it grow greater still.
His arm tightened about her, and she willingly pressed closer. Nearer. The heat of him, reaching through the silk of her gown, was intoxicating. He was all lean muscle, supple and so warm; her senses rioted, reaching, wanting.
Yearning for more.
Julian sensed her need clearly; it was there in the blatant offering of her lips, in the evocative teasing of her tongue stroking his. In the pressure of her breasts against his chest, in the tensing of her fingers on his shoulders.
He had to fight to keep hold of the reins—his as well as hers. She was new to this, but so avidly eager, she steadily eroded his control.
Given where they were—no matter the whispering devils in his brain—they couldn’t further indulge.
Increasingly desperate, he thought of those waiting in the drawing room—including Lady Osbaldestone.
A mental picture of that grande dame provided the necessary impetus for him to ease back, reluctant step by step, from the whirlpool of sensation that was Melissa’s kiss.
Finally, he brought the caress to an end and raised his head. He looked down into her starry midnight eyes and, his voice gravelly and low, murmured, “Let’s take that kiss as sealing our troth.”
Her lips lazily lifted in a cat-considering-a-bowl-of-cream smile. Before she could tempt him to resume, he took half a step back and angled his head toward the door. “Now, we need to tell the others.”
She considered that, then inclined her head in acquiescence. “They’ll be in alt.”
“Indeed.” He took her hand and towed her to the door, opened it, and with a flourish, bowed her through. “Lead on, my lady.”My countess.
Almost as if she heard the words he didn’t say, she studied him for an instant, then wound her arm in his, and together, they walked back to the drawing room.
Naturally, the instant they appeared in the doorway, every conversation ceased, and every pair of eyes locked on them. As far as he could tell, everyone was in much the same place they had been when he and Melissa had left; judging by the almost apprehensive expressions on many faces, he could imagine the consternation they’d left behind.
Melissa had halted just over the threshold and drawn her arm from his. Placing a reassuring hand at the back of her waist, he adopted an affable smile and announced, “Melissa and I believe that it’s time we set our wedding date.”
The ensuing eruption of delight was unfeigned; the ladies were understandably thrilled, while the gentlemen, for all that they were more restrained, were also notably pleased and, possibly, relieved.
Their mothers, in particular, could barely contain their joy-cum-relief.
He and Melissa exchanged glances, then together, moved farther into the room, only to be engulfed by a cacophony of exclamations, giddy observations, and expressions of delight.
It was left to Lady Osbaldestone, smiling approvingly though she was, to call the company to order. She rapped her cane on the floor several times, much like a judge’s gavel, and into the ensuing silence, said, “Well, then, you two, when’s the date to be? And once we have that settled, your engagement ball needs to be fixed as well.” She pinned them with a black and rather beady gaze. “I assume you’re not about to tell us that you’ve decided to elope?”
Julian cut a glance at Melissa, and she caught his eye.
