Read Online Tis the Season to Be Sinful by Adrienne Basso - Free Book Online
Authors: Adrienne Basso
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marriage.”
His eyes widened and she felt a moment of triumph, knowing she could surprise him.
“By real, I assume you are referring to an intimate, physical relationship?” he asked.
Juliet’s throat suddenly became very tight. She could feel the heat climb from her chest, up her neck, then settle on her face. “Yes.”
He gave her an appraising look. “I’m flattered.”
Juliet tried without success to suppress a groan. “Well, I, sir, am mortified.” When it came into her head, she thought it a simple, straightforward question, yet hearing it fall from her lips was far more embarrassing than she could have ever imagined.
“You are open and honest, Juliet. I like that in a woman. I also like that you are a woman, not an innocent, simpering girl.” He moved to her side, settling his hand gently on her shoulder. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting pleasure in your life.”
The heat of his touch spread quickly through her body. How was it that the simple touch of his warm hand could be so thrilling? On her shoulder, no less. Juliet closed her eyes, fearing he could see the spark of longing that surely must have flared in their depths. “Though my question might give you cause to wonder, I would like to say that I am a moral, respectable widow. I don’t . . . that is to say, since my husband’s death I have not . . .”
“Juliet, you owe me no explanations.” His fingers tightened on her shoulder. “I need a wife to manage my country household, be a hostess to guests and hopefully a friend to me. In return I can promise you financial security and a sense of freedom few women experience. Finding mutual satisfaction in our marriage bed I regard as a bonus.”
Heavens, now she did feel like a proper tart! Richard most likely would have agreed to the match if she had asked him to relinquish all claims to his husbandly rights. But what chance would they have for a happy marriage if they neglected intimacy?
Then again, he might not find her attractive. She was no longer in the first blush of youth. Her figure had been altered by three pregnancies, her hands roughened by mending and gardening and other tasks normally done by servants, not ladies.
Juliet’s stomach dipped and fluttered. It was an equally embarrassing and depressing notion—to be found undesirable by your potential husband.
She tipped her head to look at him. “Technically the estate belongs to my elder son. As my husband, you will only have control of it until he turns twenty-five.”
“How old is he now?”
“Ten.”
“That gives me fifteen years.”
She made herself stand very still and look him directly in the eye. “You want this estate so badly that you are prepared to marry me in order to get it?”
“It’s hardly a chore.” Richard’s smile was unexpectedly sensual. She felt his hand glide up her shoulder, and then the backs of his fingers slowly stroked the side of her bare neck. Her heart began to race.
“Oh.” Juliet unconsciously leaned closer.
“I don’t know what else I can say to allay whatever reservations you are having,” he confessed, looking at her expectantly.
Kiss me. No, no, too bold and brazen. She’d have to work up to the request, or maybe she could entice him to do it of his own accord? But how to proceed in the meantime?
Questions, that was it. She needed to find out more about him, even on a superficial level. “Do you have any family? Brothers, sisters?” she asked.
His hand went still on her neck. “No. I was an only child. Both my parents were dead by the time I reached twenty. There’s a very distant cousin on my mother’s side living somewhere in Pennsylvania, but I’ve never met her. I can say with some confidence that you will not be pestered by any of my relations.”
Juliet grimaced. “I cannot promise the same.”
“I will take care of it.”
There it was again. That confident, commanding, authoritative attitude. Made all the more powerful because he used a
His eyes widened and she felt a moment of triumph, knowing she could surprise him.
“By real, I assume you are referring to an intimate, physical relationship?” he asked.
Juliet’s throat suddenly became very tight. She could feel the heat climb from her chest, up her neck, then settle on her face. “Yes.”
He gave her an appraising look. “I’m flattered.”
Juliet tried without success to suppress a groan. “Well, I, sir, am mortified.” When it came into her head, she thought it a simple, straightforward question, yet hearing it fall from her lips was far more embarrassing than she could have ever imagined.
“You are open and honest, Juliet. I like that in a woman. I also like that you are a woman, not an innocent, simpering girl.” He moved to her side, settling his hand gently on her shoulder. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting pleasure in your life.”
The heat of his touch spread quickly through her body. How was it that the simple touch of his warm hand could be so thrilling? On her shoulder, no less. Juliet closed her eyes, fearing he could see the spark of longing that surely must have flared in their depths. “Though my question might give you cause to wonder, I would like to say that I am a moral, respectable widow. I don’t . . . that is to say, since my husband’s death I have not . . .”
“Juliet, you owe me no explanations.” His fingers tightened on her shoulder. “I need a wife to manage my country household, be a hostess to guests and hopefully a friend to me. In return I can promise you financial security and a sense of freedom few women experience. Finding mutual satisfaction in our marriage bed I regard as a bonus.”
Heavens, now she did feel like a proper tart! Richard most likely would have agreed to the match if she had asked him to relinquish all claims to his husbandly rights. But what chance would they have for a happy marriage if they neglected intimacy?
Then again, he might not find her attractive. She was no longer in the first blush of youth. Her figure had been altered by three pregnancies, her hands roughened by mending and gardening and other tasks normally done by servants, not ladies.
Juliet’s stomach dipped and fluttered. It was an equally embarrassing and depressing notion—to be found undesirable by your potential husband.
She tipped her head to look at him. “Technically the estate belongs to my elder son. As my husband, you will only have control of it until he turns twenty-five.”
“How old is he now?”
“Ten.”
“That gives me fifteen years.”
She made herself stand very still and look him directly in the eye. “You want this estate so badly that you are prepared to marry me in order to get it?”
“It’s hardly a chore.” Richard’s smile was unexpectedly sensual. She felt his hand glide up her shoulder, and then the backs of his fingers slowly stroked the side of her bare neck. Her heart began to race.
“Oh.” Juliet unconsciously leaned closer.
“I don’t know what else I can say to allay whatever reservations you are having,” he confessed, looking at her expectantly.
Kiss me. No, no, too bold and brazen. She’d have to work up to the request, or maybe she could entice him to do it of his own accord? But how to proceed in the meantime?
Questions, that was it. She needed to find out more about him, even on a superficial level. “Do you have any family? Brothers, sisters?” she asked.
His hand went still on her neck. “No. I was an only child. Both my parents were dead by the time I reached twenty. There’s a very distant cousin on my mother’s side living somewhere in Pennsylvania, but I’ve never met her. I can say with some confidence that you will not be pestered by any of my relations.”
Juliet grimaced. “I cannot promise the same.”
“I will take care of it.”
There it was again. That confident, commanding, authoritative attitude. Made all the more powerful because he used a
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