Ch 18

Julia never even gave me a moment to speak. I assume she had been waiting for me as the back door flew open before I reached for the doorknob. The light in the window had been the Venus Trap and I had been the ignorant fly.

"How dare you," she snapped.

"Good evening," I replied sardonically. If she planned on irritating me, I would irritate her as well. All is fair in love and war, and by the way she decided to start the conversation, this felt like war.

She flew out of her house, splashing barefooted into the puddles until she had me by the shirt collar. It crossed my mind that perhaps she was angered by how I had left her house the previous night.

"If you do not wish to see me ever again, that is one thing, Erik. But you do not come between Lisette and Alexandre. They are friends. Let them have that at least."

I had absolutely no idea what Alex could have said to insinuate he was no longer allowed in Julia's home. With as much calm as I could muster, I pried her fingers away from my throat, but she refused to back away. Her anger was strangely arousing, such was her passion. My feelings for her were stronger than I would have liked to admit.

Once Julia noticed my gaze lingering below her neckline, she released an angry sigh and glared at me. "Leave," she ordered. "I have nothing else to say to you."

With that, she stomped bare-foot through the shallow puddles and attempted to wipe her feet on the door mat.

"I have plenty to say to you," I replied as I trailed behind her before she could slam the door in my face.

"Save your words," she seethed. A wolfish smile crossed her lips as she looked over her shoulder at me. "From now on, save everything you have for Christine."

The door slammed shut, and for a heartbeat I merely stared at the barrier between us.

To my surprise, the door opened again, and Julia stuck her head out. "If she would give you the time of day."

Her words darkened my already sour mood. She had invited me to her house. I would not be so easily discarded.

I managed to stop the door before Julia slammed it in my face a second time. The momentum of my foot in the way resulted in an alarming crack of the door against the wall, but I ignored the impact as I stormed through. Julia let out a strangled scream once I crossed the threshold and I watched as she sprinted across the kitchen and into the dining room.

"Julia," I muttered, frustrated by her actions.

I was far taller than her, and for each stride she took it was a mere half-step for me. She made her way around the table and I went in the opposite direction, effectively cornering her as I gained ground.

She underestimated my speed as well as my girth, and once I stood within arm's reach of her, I paused and waited for her to catch her breath. Instead, she decided to run toward me, which I did not expect. Exactly what she thought she would accomplish by running directly into my chest, I haven't any idea. She did nothing more than bounce off of my body and stumble backward. Before she fell to the ground, I grabbed her shoulder and held her up.

Then she slapped me.

The left side of my face tingled but that was secondary to the rage that bubbled up into my chest. My hand instantly went to the right side, the masked side. I had to be certain she hadn't jarred my mask, which thankfully she had not. I was not sure what I would have done if she had pulled my mask from my face.

"Oh, God," I heard Julia say once realization set in.

My pulse drummed through my ears. No one had struck my face, not since I was a child and I would be damned if anyone ever did so again.

Within the span of a heartbeat I had Julia by the wrists, pinned to the dining room wall to prevent her from hitting me a second time. Her arms went limp above her head, her knees giving as she started to sink to the ground. She turned her face away and swallowed hard, her eyes closed and chest heaving with each labored breath.

"Please," she whispered as she continued to sink to the floor. "Lisette is upstairs. I don't want her to hear."

My lips parted in horror once I realized Julia expected I would strike her back. Her greatest fear was not pain; it was her daughter hearing the commotion.

With a heavy sigh, I pulled Julia upright and waited until her feet were beneath her. I rested the good side of my face against her shoulder, my anger forgotten as I held her like a rag doll.

"I-I would not hurt you," I murmured. So often in the past I had been beaten. I could see my father towering over me, a bottle in one hand and his belt in the other. I swore I would not become him, not ever, especially not to a woman who had suffered for years at the hands of her husband.

Julia threatened to sink to the ground still. I shifted my weight and held her against me, my knee between her thighs as the heat of her body rose through the thin cotton nightdress. For the first time since I had entered her home, I noticed how painfully intoxicating she smelled and realized I had been mistaken in thinking I would not desire her. I would have taken her right there, on the dining room table if the circumstances had been different, but sex wasn't why I had come to see her. How difficult she made it to remember why I was there.

"Please, Julia, a word," I whispered. "A moment of your time. Nothing more." I could feel the aching of my lies pulsing through my veins as her body burned against mine.

"A moment," she agreed.

Her breath was a hot whisper against my flesh, and it took every ounce of self-control not to abandon all reason and give in to the pursuit of passion. There I had her, between the hard wall and my own body. She was so soft and warm, so very much what I had craved for several days.

"You can let go," she said quietly, her lips brushing against my throat. I lifted my head as her wrists slipped from my grasp and slid down the wall until they dangled at her sides. I could feel the hesitation in her movements as she placed one hand gingerly against my hip. She had to know I would have preferred her touching me elsewhere, but that would have been a very dangerous move on her part.

Julia looked up and stared at the left side of my face, which still throbbed from her unexpected slap. There was remorse in her gaze and for a moment in the quiet darkness, she stared at me in her familiar way. From the very start she had always met my eye in a fashion that made me forget I wore a mask.

There was never an instance when I wanted her lips against mine more. She was a goddess with her hazel eyes glistened in the night. Her hair was pulled back, exposing the gentle slope of her neck where the side of my face had rested. The right sleeve of her gown had fallen from her shoulder, leaving her milky white skin naked to my eyes. What fine cuisine her flesh would have made for me that night if only I had told her how I starved for her.

Without a word, she put her face against my shoulder and I breathed in the scent of her hair. Everything about her made me shudder with unfulfilled desire. She had no idea how much It was nearly impossible to restrain my hands from sweeping her up from the floor and carrying her to the bedroom. Or maybe she did and she wanted something as well but was far too much a lady to say it blatantly.

Either way it didn't matter. I had just told her that all I wanted was a word. That was what I would settle for, a moment of her time spent in conversation with clothing left intact and passion left in check. Damn my lips for speaking without the consent of my masculine needs.

At last I cleared my throat and forced every primal urge away, drawing my body from hers. I pulled at my shirt cuffs and straightened the collar she had grabbed. Julia looked away while I brushed the sleeves of my overcoat.

"What did Alexandre say when he came over here?"

Julia lifted her head and looked at me quizzically, her eyes narrowed. "Erik, he never came to supper."