“The real me?”
“Yes. The real you. The one who’s condescending and disinterested.” She shook her head. “I don’t know why I’m even explaining this to you. Would you please get up. You’re sitting on my towel.”
He didn’t budge. “Juliet, I―I―”
“Don’t bother yourself, Drake. I know you have no desire to actually make me your wife in truth. But I’d rather you not pretend to have any feelings beyond cold indifference outside the estate if that’s all you’re going to have inside.” Inclining her chin, she walked away from him.
He called her name, but she didn’t stop. In fact, she quickened her pace.
Opening the kitchen door a crack, she peeked into the hallway to make sure nobody was immediately outside of the kitchen. Satisfied she would not be seen in such a scandalous state, Juliet rushed across the hall and hid in the pantry to wait for Drake to leave so she could at least get her towel.
Chapter 18
Patrick swallowed as he shamelessly stared at Juliet’s back as she walked away from him to quit the room. Even for as bold as she was, he was certain she wouldn’t actually walk very far without a stitch of clothes covering her. But instead of being the gentleman and rushing to hand her a blasted towel, he played the role of the cad and stayed firmly on that stool, taking in her luscious backside with his eyes.
Only a matter of seconds later, Juliet slipped from view and Patrick suppressed a groan. He’d not been ready to give up his view of her delectable body. He blew out a breath and scratched his jaw. He needed to wait a few minutes before leaving, but not too long or he’d miss her. He took out his pocket watch and waited for two minutes to tick off before standing up and picking up her towel.
Whistling, he left the kitchen and went straight to the door he knew she had to be behind. A million thoughts raced through his mind. But none of them seemed right. He’d tried to put voice to his feelings in the kitchen, but he’d let his mouth get away from him and he’d made a hash of things. Again. He twisted his lips. What was it about her that drove him to constantly make such an ass of himself?
Shrugging off the thought, he opened the door. “I brought you something,” he said when his eyes landed on Juliet.
Her grey eyes pierced him and she reached for the towel he was holding. She wrapped it around herself, then crossed her arms in front of her.
He stepped into the pantry, swallowing his unease with each step. “Is that what you want, Juliet?”
“What?”
“For me to make you my wife in truth?” His voice thick with desire.
Juliet didn’t respond.
Patrick took her downcast face in his hands and tilted it up toward his. “Would you like to come upstairs with me?”
Her wide, grey eyes refused to meet his.
Lowering his lashes, Patrick let his eyes feast on her plump pink lips. He bet they were soft. They looked soft. His right thumb came up and lightly ran across her bottom lip. He added a hint of pressure to steady its tremble. “Let’s go upstairs,” he whispered.
“U―upstairs?” she croaked.
He nodded, unable to form words. He took his hands from her cheeks and trailed a slow path down her neck to rest on her shoulders, his sure lips meeting her unsteady ones. He applied slight pressure, moving his lips over and between hers. He pulled back an inch. “Kiss me back,” he murmured.
“I―I―d-don’t know how,” she admitted.
“Yes, you do.” He leaned forward to capture her lips again.
Beneath his, her lips hesitantly mirrored his movements, exerting pressure and moving over and between his. He parted his lips and drew her bottom lip into his mouth, gently nipping it with his teeth before soothing it with his tongue. Her sigh at his action hardened him instantly. Blood pounding in his ears, he ran his tongue along her bottom lip once more before dipping inside her mouth. She tasted of pears, sweet. His tongue swept the inside of her left cheek before sliding over her tongue.
Patrick barely registered the soft tap on the top of his shoes as her towel dropped. Her hands gripped his shoulders. Her tongue grew more daring, slipping into his mouth to explore. He reached up to hold the back of her head to keep her mouth firmly against his, his fingers digging into her thick curtain of wet hair. Her tongue parried with his, touched everywhere inside his mouth that his was touching in hers, driving him to distraction more with each flick and taste.
He pulled away, panting. “Will you come upstairs with me?”
She stood motionless, staring at him for what felt like an eternity, her kiss-swollen lips silently begging him to devour them again. He leaned forward to answer their call, and stopped when she nodded ever-so-slightly.