His chuckle was dark. “No, my darling. Sadly, we most definitely can’t. We’d never live it down.”
His hand continued to stroke and caress her breast, pandering to her senses at least that much.
She gave a throaty purr of appreciation. With the tip of her tongue, she traced her swollen lips. “Now I understand why Mandy wrote so firmly, warning me to ensure I had only the least-crushable silks for my gowns and to make sure the bodices were fitted and smooth.” The words tumbled from her, a realization she didn’t hesitate to share.
He chuckled again. “I always knew your sister would be a good influence on you.”
She softly huffed and raised her head, and he swooped and reclaimed her lips. The kiss surged anew, heat and passion and desire erupting, threatening to consume them whole, but then reluctantly, he eased back, and she followed suit as, metaphorical inch by inch, they drew back from the precipice over which they would have preferred to fall.
Eventually, Julian raised his head. He looked down at Melissa’s Madonna-like face, illuminated by starlight. Her lashes fluttered, then rose to reveal eyes the color of the midnight sky—a blue so dark it was almost black—in which embers of desire and passion still smoldered.
Despite that, she heaved a huge sigh and said, “I suppose we’d better get back.”
Resigned to ending the interlude and with the promise of the exchange a beacon for the future, he smiled and, leaving his arms loosely about her, shifted to lounge against the balustrade. He glanced fleetingly at the ballroom. “I’d much rather stay here, at least for a while longer.”
She drew back and regarded him through narrowing eyes. “How much longer?”
“I was thinking along the lines of an hour or so.”
She huffed “As I thought. You’re bamming.” She caught one of his hands, backed toward the doors, and tugged. “Come on! You know as well as I do that we can disappear for only so long before the whispers start.”
“I’m not sure I care—”
“Yes, you do. And no matter how I kick at the traces, I care, too. So…” Determined, she tugged harder.
Laughing, he allowed her to haul him away from the balustrade.
Crash!
Something large smashed onto the balustrade immediately behind him.
Instinct propelled him forward, shielding Melissa from flying shards and thrusting her back through the French doors. He followed. The instant they were safely inside, they whirled to stare out.
The shattered remnants of one of the stone urns that adorned the parapet of the house lay strewn about the balcony, centered on where he’d been standing seconds before.
An icy chill clamped about his nape.
Before he could stop her, Melissa popped out again, swung around, and stared up at the roof.
Cursing, he joined her and looked as well.
She pointed. “There was someone up there—a man—leaning over and looking down, but he drew back when he saw me look up.”
There was no sign of anyone there now.
He shook the shards and dust from his coat and felt his features set like granite. He seized her hand. “Come on!”
A glance at the ballroom terrace showed it was empty. He realized it must be time for supper. There’d been no one on the terrace who might have seen what had happened.
After pausing to shut and lock the French doors, he joined Melissa at the parlor door. Grasping her hand, he led her out and on via a different series of corridors. Over his shoulder, he explained, “This is the quickest route to the front hall.”
They stepped into the rear of the front hall, at that moment deserted except for two footmen flanking the front door, ready to assist departing guests. Julian murmured, “You should return to the ballroom. You’ll be safer there.”
“No.” The word was uncompromising. Briefly, she met his eyes, her own dark with temper. “I just saved you from being killed. I’m not leaving your side.”
There was something in her features that warned him not to push his luck. He looked ahead and continued walking along beside the stairs, making for the foyer. “There are only two ways to reach the roof—via the main stairs or by the staff’s back stairs.”
Melissa nodded. She kept a tight hold on his hand and fought to subdue the tumult of emotions raging through her as they walked toward the hall proper, to where they would be able to see up the main stairs and along the wide corridor leading to the ballroom.
