Tempted by a Scoundrel

Chapter 17

"Take off your clothes," Julia pushed away from Michael and said, her breath coming out in short puffs.

Michael opened his mouth to say something but intelligible speech deserted him at that moment.

"You don't want to catch your death, do you?" Julia yelled and pushed him towards the fire place.

Oh. He snorted.

"I fail to see what is so amusing," she muttered, trying to pull off his sodden coat. And failing.

"The fact that you were kissing me like your life depended on it just a few moments ago before you started ordering me about like a mother hen."

"Yes, yes I know I kissed you. Now will you or will you not do as I say?"

"If I take off my clothes, you do too. Right?" Michael grinned. "Or are you immune to the chill?"

"I am not disrobing in your presence. If I die of pneumonia, so be it. But you must dry yourself. I won't look. I'll be there in the corner, looking out of the window. You won't even know I'm there," Julia announced and rushed to said window, not giving Michael the chance to speak.

He chuckled and set to do her bidding, determined that Julia had to dry herself too. As much as she liked to joke about it, he was not about the let her fall sick. Not now when he needed her to be fit for their journey up north.

He was taking her where she'd wanted to go. Only, it would be him she was marrying and not that cretin Langdon.

Yes, he'd made up his mind. He was going to marry the chit if only to save her from herself. Her reputation must be in tatters by now. Either Julia didn't realise the magnitude of the damage her thoughtless actions would result in or she simply didn't care. Knowing Julia, Michael suspected it was a little bit of both.

But Michael had to admit that that wasn't the only thing that prompted him to take this decision...he'd been attracted to her for some time now. And he knew the same passion burned in her. He'd tasted it just now.

Judging from the way she'd just kissed him, his suspicions were confirmed that there were no actual feelings involved in her decision to run off with Langdon. But what had prompted her to act the way she had?

He'd tried to get her to answer when he'd been carrying her to this place but she was tight lipped, as if guarding the crown's greatest secret. Michael realised that he wasn't going to get any answers...not right now anyway. He sighed.

"Are you done?" Julia called out, her back still facing him.

"Yes."

Julia turned and squeaked, turning around again. "You're not decent!" she choked out.

"Miss Andrews, I really must say...you are a very difficult woman to please," Michael drawled, enjoying her embarrassment. "Didn't you just ask me to strip?"

"Yes, but I didn't ask to see you in the nude!"

"Balderdash! I'm wearing my smalls...I suppose you didn't look properly. If you would just turn—"

"I'm am doing no such thing," she interrupted. Michael knew he was torturing her but he didn't remember the last time he'd had such fun.

He took pity on her and tied the extra sheet around his waist.

"Now you can look."

Julia turned slowly, one of her eyes still closed as she took a peek.

"Well I'd still not say you're decent but I suppose there's little else I can expect from you," she huffed. She avoided looking at him but Michael noticed her watching him slyly. He was particularly liking the blush that stained her cheeks.

Julia quietly walked towards the hearth, away from where Michael was standing near the bed.

"It's your turn now, Miss Andrews," Michael said, noticing that she had started to shiver.

Julia turned around and stared, appalled at the very suggestion. Her turn, indeed!

"I won't look. I'll just be there by the window, looking out. You won't even know I'm there," he grinned.

"No, thank you." With that she turned her back towards him and started to warm herself. It wasn't working. There were too many layers of wet clothing stuck to her body.

"Julia, either you take off your gown or I will do it for you."

"You wouldn't dare!" she said quietly, her eyes wide.

"Oh but I would."

Julia must've sensed that he would make good on his threat because she asked him to leave the chamber.

"I'm dressed in a bedsheet and the only clothes I have are soaked through. I am a Duke, Miss Andrews and I have a reputation to uphold. I can't go about parading in this costume!" Michael replied.

"Fine. Just wait by the window."

Michael dutifully began to walk but Julia softly cleared her throat.

"Yes?"

"I'll need help with the buttons at the back," she said, her face flaming red. She was a conundrum, his Miss Andrews. One moment she kissed him like an experienced courtesan and the next she was back to being the shy virginal miss.

Michael nodded and went to stand behind her. He was surprised to find that his heart was racing.

One by one he released the buttons from the loops, exposing her chemise and her creamy neck.

Michael's hands were shaking by now, he noticed, annoyed with his lack of composure right then.

Julia was breathing hard too, he noticed. And her back was stiff. That gave him some measure of satisfaction.

At least he wasn't dancing this waltz alone. He wasn't the only one fighting for breath...

He dragged his finger down the nape of her neck.

"Michael..." Julia whispered, the sound a question and a confession in one.

"Hmm?" He didn't trust himself to form any coherent sentence then. He didn't give her a chance to reply. He bent his head and pressed a kiss on the exposed part of her nape.

Julia said nothing as Michael pushed the gown down her body, leaving her clad only in her thin shift, rendered almost transparent by the rain.

He stepped back and looked. Oh did he ever look. He doubted anything could've dragged his gaze away from the riveting sight that was before him. Julia slowly turned towards him, her eyes downcast, her cheeks rosy, her arms stiff at her sides.

Michael had had difficulty breathing before. But now he stopped breathing altogether.