Read Online Tis the Season to Be Sinful by Adrienne Basso - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Adrienne Basso
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quiet, almost matter-of-fact tone when he spoke, a tone that made you believe he could accomplish anything. Perhaps he could?
She felt his hand move, and then his thumb began softly rubbing the tender spot behind her ear. Juliet shifted restlessly, her emotions rising and falling with every breath she took. “How old are you?”
“Thirty-nine. And you?”
“Twenty-nine, this past February.”
“Do you prefer dogs or cats?” he asked.
Her brow wrinkled at the absurd question, but she appreciated his willingness to play the game. “Dogs.”
“Coffee, chocolate, or tea in the morning?”
“Coffee.”
“Byron or Tennyson?”
“You read poetry?” Juliet’s head twisted so she could see his expression, causing Richard’s hand to fall away from her neck.
“On occasion.”
“How wonderful.” She sighed contentedly and readjusted her position on the chair so her cheek was now pressing against his hand. His touch tingled on her skin, sending delicious ripples through her. “Byron.”
“I prefer Tennyson, but differing tastes will give us something to discuss in the evenings.”
He spoke in a deep, measured voice that made her tremble. Suddenly, he stepped forward, swinging himself in front of her chair, then crouched low so their eyes were level.
There was a drifting silence, broken only by the rustle and crackle of the burning logs. Richard seemed to have lapsed into thought, his head slightly bent, his expression preoccupied as he gazed into her eyes.
What thoughts crossed his mind as he stared at her so intently? Were they at all like hers—illicit, sensual images of him caressing her slowly and of her doing the same with him?
“Is there anything else we should discuss before you give me your answer?” he whispered.
Juliet’s stomach twisted, then flipped. She swallowed against the rising thickness in her throat and told herself to have courage. My goodness, she had already said so many outrageous things to this man, starting yesterday afternoon when she accused him of being a thief who had broken into the manor. What was one more?
“I would like you to kiss me,” she said breathlessly. “Passionately.”
He blinked, instantly alert. She held her breath, worried that this time she might have gone too far, yet admitting there was no other choice. She simply had to know before she agreed to be his wife if he truly found her desirable.
He stood. Her gaze searched his face, but it remained impassive, almost remote. He reached for her, grasping both her hands firmly in his, then pulled her to her feet. The moment she was steady, he released her.
Juliet swayed for an instant, struggling to regain her equilibrium. Once her feet were firmly planted, Richard gathered her loosely in his arms. Her heart raced with anticipation.
His hand slid up the back of her neck until his fingers threaded through her hair. He placed his other hand on her waist. A light, gentle touch, tempting and intriguing. Juliet found herself straining forward, aching to get closer.
The masculine scent of his skin, clean and sharp, filled her nostrils. This close she could see the individual lashes on his eyelids, lush and long and curling at the ends; the strong line of his jaw smooth and freshly shaved. His body was firm and hard, and she could feel the heat of it through the layers of his clothing.
There was no denying that physically she found him very appealing. Dare she hope he felt the same?
With slow gentleness, Richard brought his mouth down to hers. It was a sweet, simple, almost innocent meeting of lips. After a few seconds he touched the tip of his tongue to her lips, running it slowly along the seam. Then he pulled away and lifted his head.
Juliet blinked. That was it? It was over? She gingerly placed her hands on Richard’s shoulders, not knowing what else to do. To say the kiss had been a disappointment was a colossal understatement.
Oh, dear, now what?
Drawing her close, he said softly in her ear, “No
She felt his hand move, and then his thumb began softly rubbing the tender spot behind her ear. Juliet shifted restlessly, her emotions rising and falling with every breath she took. “How old are you?”
“Thirty-nine. And you?”
“Twenty-nine, this past February.”
“Do you prefer dogs or cats?” he asked.
Her brow wrinkled at the absurd question, but she appreciated his willingness to play the game. “Dogs.”
“Coffee, chocolate, or tea in the morning?”
“Coffee.”
“Byron or Tennyson?”
“You read poetry?” Juliet’s head twisted so she could see his expression, causing Richard’s hand to fall away from her neck.
“On occasion.”
“How wonderful.” She sighed contentedly and readjusted her position on the chair so her cheek was now pressing against his hand. His touch tingled on her skin, sending delicious ripples through her. “Byron.”
“I prefer Tennyson, but differing tastes will give us something to discuss in the evenings.”
He spoke in a deep, measured voice that made her tremble. Suddenly, he stepped forward, swinging himself in front of her chair, then crouched low so their eyes were level.
There was a drifting silence, broken only by the rustle and crackle of the burning logs. Richard seemed to have lapsed into thought, his head slightly bent, his expression preoccupied as he gazed into her eyes.
What thoughts crossed his mind as he stared at her so intently? Were they at all like hers—illicit, sensual images of him caressing her slowly and of her doing the same with him?
“Is there anything else we should discuss before you give me your answer?” he whispered.
Juliet’s stomach twisted, then flipped. She swallowed against the rising thickness in her throat and told herself to have courage. My goodness, she had already said so many outrageous things to this man, starting yesterday afternoon when she accused him of being a thief who had broken into the manor. What was one more?
“I would like you to kiss me,” she said breathlessly. “Passionately.”
He blinked, instantly alert. She held her breath, worried that this time she might have gone too far, yet admitting there was no other choice. She simply had to know before she agreed to be his wife if he truly found her desirable.
He stood. Her gaze searched his face, but it remained impassive, almost remote. He reached for her, grasping both her hands firmly in his, then pulled her to her feet. The moment she was steady, he released her.
Juliet swayed for an instant, struggling to regain her equilibrium. Once her feet were firmly planted, Richard gathered her loosely in his arms. Her heart raced with anticipation.
His hand slid up the back of her neck until his fingers threaded through her hair. He placed his other hand on her waist. A light, gentle touch, tempting and intriguing. Juliet found herself straining forward, aching to get closer.
The masculine scent of his skin, clean and sharp, filled her nostrils. This close she could see the individual lashes on his eyelids, lush and long and curling at the ends; the strong line of his jaw smooth and freshly shaved. His body was firm and hard, and she could feel the heat of it through the layers of his clothing.
There was no denying that physically she found him very appealing. Dare she hope he felt the same?
With slow gentleness, Richard brought his mouth down to hers. It was a sweet, simple, almost innocent meeting of lips. After a few seconds he touched the tip of his tongue to her lips, running it slowly along the seam. Then he pulled away and lifted his head.
Juliet blinked. That was it? It was over? She gingerly placed her hands on Richard’s shoulders, not knowing what else to do. To say the kiss had been a disappointment was a colossal understatement.
Oh, dear, now what?
Drawing her close, he said softly in her ear, “No
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