As he expected, she shivered. Also as he expected, she ignored her reaction.
“I want to talk about our, um… my agreeing to marry you.”
He’d anticipated something like this. She thought too much. It probably had something to do with the children. She was excessively careful with them. Not to mention, she had an exceptionally strong sense of self-preservation, he’d been living that nightmare for two months. He wasn’t going to give her the opportunity to build an exit strategy. If today’s behaviour was any indication, Mrs. Kilpatrick might set fire to Julia’s room and he couldn’t imagine what antics the self-styled matchmaker Lizzie would get up to.
“Yes?” He ran his tongue up the side of her neck and playfully nipped her earlobe, his body gladly absorbing the shudder that his action induced.
He was becoming impatient. Mrs. Kilpatrick said hours and all the things he wanted to do to her would take much longer than that.
Definitely months
Probably years.
“Promise you won’t get angry with me,” Julia said.
He couldn’t imagine anything she could say at that moment would make him angry with her. Douglas didn’t, however, answer. He simply waited.
“I’m not going to marry you.”
Except that.
“What?” he exploded, his arm tightening reflexively about her body, his head coming up with a jerk.
“I’m not going to marry you,” she repeated.
“You bloody well are,” he growled.
She shook her head and tried to pull away, succeeding in putting inches of space between them. He wrenched her back and his other arm went around her to hold her more firmly.
“Douglas, let me go.”
“I believe I’ve answered that request more often than I’ve cared to,” he clipped into her ear.
“You don’t understand!” she cried, her eyes on his in the window.
“Explain it to me,” he bit out.
She pushed against his arm. “Please, give me some space.”
His arms loosened with a motive, the minute she moved away, he swung her around and yanked her back against his body, facing him then his arms closed back around her roughly.
“Douglas!”
“Talk!” His voiced cracked in the room like a thunderclap and he watched her clouded eyes clear as she became angry.
“I don’t want to marry you!” she burst out.
“You must be joking,” he snapped derisively.
Her eyes widened in angry apprehension.
“You aren’t entirely irresistible,” she informed him.
“Would you like me to prove you wrong?” It was a threat and his tone dangerous.
“No, not that,” she evaded, knowing exactly what he meant and not stupid enough to deny it. Her eyes moved left to right and back at him. “That was… lovely.”
“Lovely?” His voice was scathing. “You describe last night as lovely?”
“It was good,” she stopped at his narrowed eyes. “Very good.” His arms tightened. “Okay, it was wonderful. All right?” She was losing her composure, he saw she was both frightened and angry and he didn’t care.
“So, explain to me how I’m resistible, would you?” he demanded.
“You have to give me a moment to let me think.”
“I don’t have to do anything.”
“Fine,” she snapped, “you’re cold –”
“I was hot enough for you last night.”
“I’m not talking about last night!” She stamped her foot in frustration and, at any other time, he would have found that adorable.
Now, he did not.
“Stop interrupting me,” she ordered.
“Go on,” he allowed, his strained patience showing as he spoke through clenched teeth.
“I’ve done this before, this marriage thing and let me tell you it is not all that it’s cracked up to be.”
If he thought he couldn’t get angrier, he was wrong.
“I’m not Webster,” he growled.
“I know that!” she shouted. “I didn’t say you were and you’re interrupting again.”
He snapped his mouth shut and glared at her with glittering eyes.
“I can’t do it again, I can’t. I won’t! It’s too damned hard!” she burst out. “You get mixed up, you lose yourself. I won’t lose myself again, Douglas. I can’t and I won’t.”
He stared at her.
There had been very little in Douglas Ashton’s life that he ever wanted. Most of it he could obtain, the rest of it, a loving mother and father, his sister back from the dead, was unobtainable.
At that moment, he found himself wanting something.
And what he wanted was for Julia to lose herself with him.
He wanted this stubborn, tempestuous Julia Fairfax to disappear and an acquiescent, but still tempestuous, Julia Ashton to take her place. He wanted to brand her with his name and shackle her with his ring.
Did she not understand that was a good thing?
He used a particularly heavy weapon in his arsenal. “And what if you got pregnant last night?”
She gasped and her tense body stilled. He jostled her in his arms, giving her a none-too-gentle shake.
She came out of her surprise. “I’ll worry about it if it happens.”
“You’ll damn well marry me if it happens!” he roared and she reared back against his arm.
He could not believe in all his years, all his experience, all the women before her, that he was reduced to ordering a woman to marry him.
“Of course!” she blurted.
“Jesus, Julia, don’t you know I’ll make you happy?” The words should have been beautiful but instead they were rough with anger.
“Douglas,” she used words that stung, “what do you know of making anyone happy?”
He felt those words like a kick to the stomach and he immediately let her go and stepped back.
He wouldn’t have expected that attack from Julia.
His mother, probably, his father, definitely, but not Julia.
They watched each other across the short expanse that separated them like warriors on a battlefield.
Finally, she seemed to realise the cruelty behind her words and she made a move toward him but stopped herself.
“I’m only protecting myself,” she whispered. When he made no response she continued. “You won’t want to hurt me but you will. They always do.” Her words were filled with a strange mixture of wisdom and bitterness.