* * * * *
Douglas and Julia’s first row came less than twenty-four hours after Julia agreed to the marriage.
Indeed, the morning after.
“I’ll ask Veronika to move your things up here today,” Douglas murmured against Julia’s lips, the water from the shower falling on them, his soapy hands on her body.
She smiled but shook her head, moving her mouth from his, she paused from running her lips across his jawbone to reply, “I don’t think so.”
Douglas’s slippery hands slid over her behind, pulling her wet body closer to his. “I do.”
She laughed (probably too aroused to realise the seriousness of Douglas’s intent). “I’m not moving up here. The children don’t even know we’re getting married.”
“We’ll tell them today.”
She nodded her agreement but said, “We have young, impressionable children in the house, we can’t carry on like this.” She brushed her lips against his. “I’ll move up after the wedding.”
His hands slid up to tighten around her waist.
“You’ll move up today,” he ordered, his voice brooking no protest.
Her head jerked back, (probably at his arrogant tone which she immediately changed her mind about and most definitely did not adore).
“I will not!” she snapped stubbornly.
He pressed her against the wall of the shower.
“Yes,” was all he said, his fingers finding spots that would (with any normal female) get her to go along with his plan.
Not Julia.
Still, she gasped (she couldn’t help herself).
Then she stated firmly, “No!”
“Yes,” he growled, his mouth finding the area behind her ear that he knew would get her to acquiesce.
Unfortunately, Douglas again misjudged his bride-to-be.
“We cannot carry on an illicit affair under the noses of the children,” Julia retorted (but her reply lost some of its strength due to its breathy quality).
Douglas, not one to fight fair, lifted her effortlessly, spread her legs, pressed her against the wall and entered her in one fluid movement, his hands on her backside holding her aloft.
Her legs immediately wrapped around him.
“And what, pray, do we do about this…” he pulled out slowly and then surged forward, gratified to hear her moan deep in her throat, “in the meantime?”
She sucked in a shuddering breath.
“You… you’re going to have to be...” he moved lazily out and then swiftly in again and she paused to savour it. “Creative,” she whispered.
Compromise was reached as Douglas very much liked the sound of that.
And creative he most definitely was.
* * * * *
With less than two months to plan the wedding, Julia was forced to create an event that was worthy of the nuptials of Lord Ashton, Baron Blackbourne.
Luckily, she had the worthy assistance of Charlotte Forsythe, Margaret Kilpatrick and Samantha Thornton (and the long-distance support of Patricia Fairfax). Further, being a rather dab hand at lists, Julia was able to get organised and have plans underway in short order.
Douglas, coming home earlier than normal, much earlier, creatively earlier (that is to say, hours earlier than the children would arrive home from school and with the knowledge that Veronika had taken Ruby to a movie, this knowledge coming from the fact that he told Veronika to do so and gave her a two fifty pound notes for her troubles) strode down the hall to Julia’s room.
What he found upon opening the door was of great surprise as well as a little alarming.
Julia, wearing nothing but a rather fetching pale pink bra and panties that was liberally dosed with delicate black lace was being fondled by a tall, rail-thin, impeccably (if dramatically) attired and immensely effeminate man who, for reasons unknown, had yards of ivory silk wrapped around his own body.
“Douglas!” Julia cried.
“Julia,” Douglas responded, his face setting dangerously, his arms crossing on his chest and his stance settling belligerently.
The other man stepped back and brought a fluttering, open palmed hand to his chest.
“Oh my,” he drawled upon looking at Douglas.
“This,” Julia motioned to the man and then grabbed her cashmere robe and shrugged it on, “is Gregory.”
Douglas didn’t move, didn’t utter a noise, he simply glared.
“Oh my,” Gregory repeated, his eyes never leaving Douglas.
“Gregory will be designing my wedding gown,” Julia explained, hastily tying the belt of her robe.
Douglas, again, had no response.
Except he quirked a brow.
Julia went on. “He designed the dress I wore to the ball.”
This caused a slight softening of Douglas’s features.
Very slight.
“And,” Julia continued meaningfully, “I’m hoping to introduce him to Tony at the wedding.”
Douglas digested this information then nodded and, with unmistakable intent, strode toward his soon-to-be wife.
“Gregory, as delightful as it is to meet you,” Douglas’s voice was even and determined, his arm sliding around Julia, hauling her resisting body to his side, “I do think it might be time for you to have a break from your worthy endeavours and seek some refreshment.”
“Douglas!” Julia screeched, her voice high with mortification.
Gregory looked from Julia to Douglas, quickly read Douglas’s meaning and asked affably, “How much time do you need?”
“Fifteen minutes,” Julia quickly responded.
“Two hours,” Douglas said at the same time.
“Two hours it is.” Gregory, a romantic at heart, quickly exited, thinking maybe he should return in three.
So he did.
* * * * *
Julia was so happy, she could barely contain herself.
Life had most definitely taken a dramatic turn.
She still worried about the future (she couldn’t help herself). She also had moments of sorrow that she was not sharing these joyous times with Gavin and Tamsin. Further, she would, approximately six times a day (she started counting), have to stop herself from telling Douglas her feelings and would sometimes nearly let slip that she knew about his childhood (it was appallingly easy to drown in moments of tenderness when she was with him, which was often, very often).
Despite all that, Charlie’s prediction that even without any avowal of undying love from Douglas, life with him was better than any life she knew before.
And Julia savoured it sweetness.
He was possibly the most attentive, the most voracious, the most generous lover she’d ever had, in bed and out of it.