His mouth curved. “Call it what you like. I admire you a great deal. I doubt I would have weathered the storm near as well.”

The combined effect of that smile and his praise left Sophie speechless. She was taken aback by how it affected her, warming her from the inside, loosening the tight knot of apprehension she had not known was there. When had his opinion become so important? Or…perhaps it had always been important.

“I would not have expected you to be supportive,” she admitted, her damp palms wrapping around the end of the armrests.

“Why not?”

“Because you were forever chastising me when we were children.”

The marquess’s eyes widened. “I was not.”

“Yes, you were. I remember the incidences quite clearly, especially that day in the garden when you shouted at me and I nearly fell. Scared me witless.”

“Are you referring to the time you were attempting to climb to the top of the pagoda?” He snorted. “It was you who scared the wits from me! I rounded the corner in search of you and there you were, hanging some distance from the ground by only your fingertips. My heart stopped beating altogether. You could have killed yourself.”

She snorted back. “As if you cared for my health. It simply offended your aristocratic sensibilities to see a female engaged in such sport.”

Outwardly, Justin was fairly certain he maintained his composure. Inwardly, he was stunned. Sophie could not believe that. Not truly. “Are you daft?”

Sophie blinked her thickly lashed green eyes at him. “Beg your pardon?”

“If you believe I wished to hold you back due to your gender rather than out of concern for the safety of your person you are sorely mistaken.”

As she continued to stare at him as if he had grown two heads, Justin in turn stared at the ravishing creature who sat across from him and felt a bit…addled. In his mind, he had held an image of her as she had looked the last time they met. She had been ten and nine, slender yet lushly built, her hair a riot of dark chocolate curls shot with striking strips of burgundy. Full red lips and those lovely eyes had rounded out the picture of a beauty on the verge of blossoming. He had watched her grow from a child to a woman, accompanying his mother on every visit to Lady Cardington’s just to witness the transformation. Biding his time. Waiting for the day when she would be his.

A day that had never come.

His mother had been the one to tell him that Sophie had accepted Lord Langley’s addresses. After that, he never returned to the Cardington dower house again.

In the years since, his memories had not aged her. She had been arrested in that moment in time. Because of this, the vision who greeted him in the parlor before dinner took him completely by surprise.

His mother was right. The years had been kind to Sophie, turning her youthful attractiveness into an intoxicating blend of innate sensuality and fully ripened curves. When she had kissed his cheek, the smell of her and the feel of her warm body so close to his had thrust home an undeniable truth-he still wanted her. This time with a man’s desire, not a boy’s infatuation.

And dear sweet Sophie apparently had no notion of the hunger she had awakened. Otherwise she would not be visiting his private rooms and reclining in a way that bared her ankles. He was in a riot of lust over that view, such as many a naked woman had been unable to incite in him. The desire to press his lips to that tiny part of her rode him hard. He wanted to push up the hem of her skirts and follow the length of her lithe legs with his mouth. He wanted to spread her thighs wide and lick inside her, drink her in, hear the sounds she made when lost in climax.

“My lord…Justin.”

She squirmed slightly, and he realized his lengthening silence was making her uncomfortable. He forced himself to look away. “Yes?”

He heard her sigh. “I feel as if we are strangers.”

“Does that disturb you?”

“Yes, it does. Is it possible that you might stay a few more days?”

Justin refrained from smiling. That had been his intent ever since she kissed him in the parlor, but it was fortuitous that she asked. “Why?”

He could see that she was attuned to the growing sensual awareness he felt building between them. Her gaze roamed often from the top of his head to his polished Hessians and back up again, the green irises dark with female appreciation.

But the rapid lift and fall of her chest betrayed her unease. She had not expected to desire him, and therefore had no defenses in place to manage the attraction.

Which worked perfectly for him. He would ensure that she remained unsettled and unguarded so he could slip inside her…in every way possible.

“Because grand-mère will never believe we are ill-suited if she doesn’t reach the conclusion on her own.”

His gaze narrowed. “Are we ill-suited, Sophie?”

Again she looked at him as if he were an anomaly she could not classify. “Don’t tease, Justin. You know my circumstances make me unacceptable for you. Besides which, I would never marry a man who did not love my son as much as I do.”

“I am curious,” he said softly. “What type of woman would you deem ‘acceptable’ for me?”

Sophie tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and waved her hand, both gestures betraying her nervousness. “Someone such as Lady Julienne Montrose, I suppose.” A flush spread across her cheeks.

“Interesting.” Pleasure filled him that she had kept apprised of his activities. “Perhaps it will surprise you to learn that the qualities I most enjoyed in Lady Julienne were ones that reminded me of you-her ability to disregard the opinions of the ton, her mischievous nature, and warm sensuality.”

“My lord!” Her hand lifted to her throat.

He offered a wolfish smile, relishing the chance to shock her for a change. “I am quite serious.”

Her cheeks flushed. “You are not.”

“Who are you trying to convince? You can save your breath if you are attempting to sway me. I know a passionate woman when I see one.”

“This conversation is ridiculous.” Her arms crossed over her chest. “I am trying to extricate you from this mess, and you are making things difficult as usual.”

“As usual? I have always been accommodating,” he said smoothly.

She snorted. “You have been driving me mad for years.”

On this particular occasion, Justin was fairly certain that the reason why she was maddened was for just the reason he’d like and if assisting her kept her within his grasp long enough to act upon it, he had no objections. “How can I help you?”

“If you could manage to delay your departure for a few days, we could contrive ways to demonstrate how we are completely inappropriate for one another-such as your love for dogs and my dislike of them. Not simply because we are contrary progeny who refuse to heed the wisdom of our elders, but because we are a disaster together.”

“A disaster?” By the time all was said and done, he would know every reason why she had never considered him for marriage. He would know everything about her, including all the ways he could make her come.

“Well,” she shrugged, “something similar to that, if we have any luck at all. Imagine the fun! Eventually, they will retreat from their plans, hopefully before we cause any permanent damage.”

Justin laughed.

And Sophie was captivated.

Merriment transformed him, thawed him. Fine lines spread out from the corners of his eyes, revealing how often he found amusement in his life. Suddenly, Sophie wished she knew the man who had earned those laugh lines, the private one. Someone he had recently become. Or perhaps he’d always had a hidden side? One she had failed to see?

The prickle of sexual awareness she had felt all evening intensified to the point where she was forced to rub her arms. She stared at him, unable to look away. His smile slowly faded, his expression altering to become fiercely intent. It made her shiver, that look. And he had been giving it to her ever since she’d entered his bedchamber.

“Have you been alone since Langley passed?” he asked in an intimate murmur.

“I have my son.”

“That is not what I meant, and well you know it.”

Sophie tugged her feet out from under George and Edward’s great heads and stood. “Heavens, it’s late.”

Fontaine rose as well, and followed her to the door. She reached for the knob and was startled when he came up behind her, his palm pressed to the panel over her head preventing her from leaving. Caged by his big body, there was no way to avoid breathing in the scent of his skin. It was delicious, as was the warmth that radiated from him. He moved closer, pressing his front to her back. She began to pant. The knowledge that he was fully, impressively aroused was inescapable.

She was tormented by her confusion. Reconciling the seductive male behind her with the aloof boy she knew from the past was beyond difficult. There had been a measure of safety in the distance inherent in friendship. Now, the imaginings in her mind of the two of them as lovers bridged that gap.

“Your heart is racing,” he whispered, his breath hot against her skin. His tongue swept across the vein that fluttered madly at her throat. Her back arched and a startled cry escaped her.

“A portion of your response is desire.” His open mouth brushed behind her ear and she shuddered violently. “But a portion of it is fear. Why? You must know that I would never hurt you.”

Unable to speak, Sophie agreed with a jerky nod. His teeth bit gently into the tender flesh where her shoulder met her neck. Her knees weakened and his free arm came around her, banding at her waist to support her. Taking further liberties, his thumb stroked the side of her breast in a soothing rhythm that did nothing to calm her.

Sophie’s eyes closed and her damp forehead rested against the door. His chest labored against her back, the heat of his body set hers on fire. Her nipples peaked hard and tight, aching. As if he knew, he cupped her breast and kneaded it. Her sex clenched in rhythm with his grasp and she grew wet, slippery and hot.

“Oh dear God,” she moaned, quaking. How did a woman manage a desire such as this? She had lusted for Langley and relished his lovemaking, but those emotions had not reached this depth. She hadn’t the experience required to control her responses. “You overwhelm me. I cannot think or breathe.”

“And I am undone.” His mouth was moving over her bared skin. Nipping, licking, biting. “This is passion, Sophie. Need and hunger.”

“It is insanity, my l-lord.” Her voice broke as he continued to fondle her intimately. “With a small ch-child dependent upon me, I cannot afford to go in-insane.”

“There is only one cure,” he murmured. “Shall we administer it?”

She shook her head, but lack of energy gave the movement no strength. “I do not understand…what is happening.”

Justin breathed deeply. “We are becoming lovers, sweet Sophie. Finally.”

He tilted his head and took her mouth. She gasped at the contact, the tingling of her lips urging her to press them hard against his. Her angle was awkward, but she did not care. The kiss was perfect, his lips so soft, yet firm, the taste of him dark and delectable. She could not temper the ardent way she answered him. Her response was instinctual and greedy.

The groan that left his throat made her shiver, so filled with rough longing and ravenous need. He licked deep inside her, his tongue gliding back and forth against hers, the measured tempo blatantly erotic. She whimpered softly as tension coiled in her womb. He pulled back at the sound, breathing harshly. “Stay with me tonight.”

Her lower lip quivered, her thoughts scattered and unable to settle. Justin licked the soft curve of her mouth, his touch so reverent it coaxed a tear to blur her vision, then slip down her cheek. He wrenched himself away. She felt his loss keenly; the lack of his warmth left her cold, the lack of his support left her shaky.

“Damn you.” The look he gave her scorched. “I can make you stay. I can make you beg me to allow you to stay. But that is not what I want. You will give yourself to me. I will have you no other way.”

Sophie turned to face him, lifting her fingers to press against her kiss-swollen lips. “You have always…” She reached behind her and gripped the knob.

“Always what?” he asked gruffly, the lust within him a palpable thing, barely leashed.

“Always been too much.” With a quick pivot, she opened the door. “Good night, my lord.”

She fled, leaving him standing there staring after her.

George whined softly. Edward paced at the threshold.

Justin knew just how they felt.