A Dangerous Love

How could he not when she looked so damnably fetching in that gown? Her color of choice today was a vibrant citrine orange that made him think of brightly wrapped candies only found in sweets stores. He wanted to unwrap it and suck it until it melted…in his mouth, his hands, his…

“Trust me, Rosalind, you don’t lack a damned thing. Except the good sense to stay the hell away from a man who spends his nights lusting after you.”

All his tactics to put her off succeeded only in arousing him. When they were together, it was a veritable feast of sensual innuendo. The first course—her searing questions. The second—his spicy answers. The third—her delicate blushes. Then it all repeated again in endless stimulating variations until it finished with him wanting her for dessert.

“I do not!”

Juliet shook her head. “Deny it all you wish, but I can see you like him.”

“Not in the least.” She was intrigued by him, fascinated by him, tempted by him. But like him? That was far too bland a word for what he made her feel.

She bristled at his assumptions. “He might not have been born to privilege, Mr. Brennan, but he was born a man. Try being a woman for five minutes, and you’ll rapidly discover that a man of the lowest station has more privilege than any woman. I have the privilege of being told I can’t control my own money or govern my own life or seek the sort of future I desire. I have the privilege of running an estate alone, of looking after my two sisters and my father, with the knowledge that I can’t even inherit the property I maintain. Such ‘privilege’ I could do without, I assure you.”

“No one is born to courage, Juliet. Courage is a habit you develop after cowardice has gotten you nothing.”

Then the beginnings of a smile stole over his lips, provoking her insides to tighten with an unfamiliar tension. She liked him better angry. When he was angry she didn’t feel this strange connection to him, this intoxicating feeling that he understood her better than anyone ever had.

Helena. Besides, your mother was much happier as a wife than an actress. Such a life is not for you, nor for Juliet, either