Julia came down, dropping her head to the bed and Douglas lifted his, his eyes locked with hers and she held her breath at the look in their dark depths before he rammed into her hard, twice, and then his head jerked back and she saw the chords and veins standing out in his neck as he cl**axed inside her.
For some reason, she thought watching Douglas lose control while he was buried inside her was the most beautiful sight she ever beheld and she allowed herself to glory in the fact that she could give that to him, the fierce, powerful, handsome Douglas Ashton.
She lifted her head to run her tongue along his neck as she slid her fingers in his thick hair.
He collapsed on top of her, his weight pressing her into the bed and she welcomed it, holding him tight to her with all four limbs. His breath was coming fast then but after it slowed, he shifted himself so that he wasn’t fully resting on her but he didn’t move away.
His lips brushed hers, feather light.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you; I meant to give you something.” He was talking about before, in her room and she knew it was the closest she’d get to an apology. She nodded and his hands came back to her face, rubbing the place where the tears had been.
“If you ever leave,” his voice had changed from soft to harsh, “I’ll find you and bring you back.”
She felt her stomach lurch and she didn’t know if it was with fear or happiness.
She made no reply, there didn’t need to be one with that kind of promise. She simply stared at him.
He moved suddenly, reaching out to his side and jerking down the covers. He rolled them both towards the pillows, finally disengaging from her. Then he carefully righted their position on the bed, settled her at his side and yanked the covers back over them.
“I can’t sleep here, Douglas, the children –”
“If you leave,” he repeated, “I’ll find you and bring you back.”
She didn’t know what else to say because she knew he’d be true to his promise.
It was a Douglas she’d never known before. She’d been used to his calm but now she’d heard him roar, she heard him tease and she’d heard such harshness in his tone that it felt like it was both shredding her heart and mending it at the same time.
After what happened that night, she didn’t know what tomorrow would bring. But she fell asleep with her body held closely against his side, her head on his chest, all the while thinking of his forehead pressed to hers and that unbelievably tender kiss.
Chapter Nineteen
Christmas
Julia found out quickly that Douglas’s next line of attack would be what could only be described as a “tender onslaught” mixed with “not-so-tender onslaught” both of which were very effective even if she’d be damned if she’d let him know it.
It started the very next morning after the night he’d made love to her.
He woke her by running a finger lightly down her spine, her eyelids fluttered open to see him sitting on the side of the bed watching her with sexy, hooded eyes.
He was fully dressed wearing a grey suit with a vermillion shirt and a matching vermillion tie that had grey and blue designs patterned on it.
“What time is it?” she grumbled sleepily.
He bent and kissed her shoulder. “Time enough for you to get to your own bed before the children wake,” he muttered against her skin.
That got her attention. She whirled and sat bolt upright and in a frenzy, threw the covers back. Dodging his body, she jumped out of the bed. She located her panties, tugged them on quickly and, without a backward glance, began to dart out of the room.
It occurred to her belatedly she should mark the occasion with something, lest he get the wrong idea. She stopped halfway to the door and turned back.
“Don’t read anything into last night, that was last night and now is… well, now,” she finished lamely.
He stood slowly and surveyed her with a curiously intense expression.
“Nothing’s changed,” she warned.
He watched her a moment and then the intensity faded from his eyes and warmth filled them.
Warmth from Douglas was something else Julia wasn’t used to and something she found excruciatingly hard to resist.
When he spoke, his voice was amused, “I figured that.”
She ignored his warmth, his tone, gave one curt nod and escaped.
He was gone most of the day on business. It was the day before Christmas Eve and the children were already beginning to let their excitement override their common sense. It took all her time to finish up her Christmas chores, break up their arguments and deal with what would essentially be three days without Mrs. K (who would be coming for Christmas dinner, but as a guest).
Douglas arrived home for supper and joined them, having shed his jacket and tie. Then, after the pudding dishes were whisked away by Mrs. K, Julia settled in the lounge with the children to watch a Christmas DVD when Douglas strolled in, holding a sheaf of typed papers that had black scrawling all over them.
She looked closely at the papers and saw it was her business plan.
His eyes met hers. “If you have a moment, Julia, I’d like to discuss this with you.”
She stared at the papers, unable to mask her horror.
“You’ve marked all over it,” she whispered.
“Ten minutes,” he said, his tone gentle.
From the marks she figured it would take ten hours but like a doomed man heading to the gallows, she followed him to his study.
He sat at his desk and she stood opposite.
“It’ll be hard for you to see from there,” he commented, quirking an arrogant brow.
She glared at him, already beside herself with curiosity that was mingled with hesitation warring with the feeling that she did not want to spend any more time alone with him than was absolutely necessary.
She didn’t trust him, not one bit.
But curiosity won out and with an undignified sigh, she walked around the desk and stood at his side.
He immediately began to explain his notes, using his Mont Blanc pen to indicate bold scratching and what they meant to her passages, patiently explaining what he wrote and why.
She found, against her will, that she was fascinated by what he had to say. He was very clever, thorough and intuitive. Despite herself, she leaned forward, bending at the h*ps to rest her elbows on his desk.
Finally, unable to hide her enthusiasm, she became fully engrossed, leaned into him, grabbed the pen out of his hand and started to write her own notes around his as he talked. Their heads were bent together over the document barely an inch apart.