He groaned, lifted his head, and captured her face between his hands-hands she noted weren't quite steady. His eyes burned like dark coals, holding hers captive, his calloused thumbs gliding over her cheekbones while her hands roamed beneath his shirt. The raw hunger and need in his eyes most likely should have frightened her. Instead it exhilarated her. And she wanted more of it.

She dragged her hands lower and brushed them over the fascinating bulge tenting his breeches. A shudder ran through him. "I want to touch all of you, Gideon."

For the space of a single heartbeat he remained immobile, his gaze locked on hers, a muscle ticking in his jaw. Then with a low growl, he ripped open his breeches.

His hard flesh rose between them, fascinating, beckoning. His chest rose and fell with his fast, heavy breaths, and she slowly encircled him with her fingers then lightly squeezed.

"Bloody hell." The words hissed through his lips, and he grasped her shoulders, his fingers tightly gripping her upper arms. She pulled her gaze away from his captivating arousal and looked up. He regarded her through half-closed eyes that glittered like diamonds.

"You feel so… hot," she whispered. "And hard."

"You have no idea." He flexed his hips, a slow thrust into her hand. "Again," he growled, and she wasn't certain if the single word was more an order or a plea.

She obeyed, lightly squeezing him. His eyes slammed shut, and she looked down, watching her fingers surround his flesh and move slowly up and down his long, hard length, each stroke dragging another deep groan from him. With an agonized sound he pressed forward, grinding into her palm, and to her utter fascination a pearl of dewy fluid emerged from the tip of his arousal. She captured the drop on her fingertip and slowly circled the velvety head with the wetness.

"Julianne…" She could feel him trembling, and her name sounded torn from his throat. But before she could fully marvel that her touch affected him so, he pushed her hands away from him then yanked her toward him, trapping his erection tightly between their bodies, and kissed her. Deeper, more fiercely, impossibly with even more passion than he had before.

A sudden coolness brushed against her legs, and in some hazy part of her brain she realized he'd lifted her skirts. Hooking one hand behind her knee, he raised her leg, settling her thigh high on his hip.

"You taste so damn good," he whispered against her mouth. "And you feel so damn good…" His hand smoothed up her thigh. Curved around her buttocks. His fingers lightly traced between her cheeks, shooting a hot shiver down her spine, then moved lower to find the opening in her drawers.

She gasped at his first touch along her feminine folds.

"You're wet," he said, his voice a growl against her neck. "So beautifully wet."

His clever fingers were relentless, circling, delving, skimming, and gliding, until her every breath turned into a mindless moan. She clung to his shoulders, helplessly writhing against his hand, desperate for more. He slipped a finger inside her at the same instant his tongue entered her mouth, a simultaneous invasion that melted her knees. Need coiled within her, and her hips undulated, desperately seeking the magic she'd experienced last night.

With a deep groan he dipped his knees, curved his free hand around her bottom, and hauled her higher against him. And suddenly his hardness was pressed against her…oh, exactly right there. Her head fell back, and a long, guttural moan rattled in her throat. He slipped another finger inside her, stretching her in the most delicious way, and slowly pumped while he flexed his hips, a thrust that shot such intense pleasure through her she could only gasp into his mouth.

Held tightly against him, his fingers stroking inside her body, his tongue delving inside her mouth, his hot, hard shaft pressed against that magically sensitive female part of her, she simply came apart in his arms.

Molten pleasure pulsed through her, dragging a cry from her throat. He broke off their kiss and with a cry of his own he buried his face in the curve of her neck, whispering her name over and over in a voice that sounded as if he'd swallowed broken glass.

For several long seconds they remained locked in place, both breathing hard, and Julianne reveled in the strength of his arms around her. The feel of his rapid heartbeat thumping against her chest. The scent of his skin mixed with the musk of their arousal. She'd never felt so warm and protected and utterly, beautifully alive. And for that, she loved him.

Everything inside her stilled as those words echoed through her mind, their truth becoming clearer with each repetition. She loved him. She loved him.

God help her, she loved him.

Hopelessly. Stupidly. Impossibly.

Irrevocably.

For the space of a single heartbeat she tried to deny it but realized it was hopeless to do so. He'd captured her imagination the instant she'd seen him two months ago, and every minute since had only built on those initial feelings.

She felt him lift his head, and she leaned back, wondering if she should confess the depth of her feelings, wondering if she'd even need to, for surely he'd see them reflected in her eyes. Wondering if she might see in his eyes even a fraction of what she felt toward him.

The instant their gazes met, that hope died a withering death. Instead of glowing with tenderness or affection, his eyes looked like flat stones. His mouth was pressed into a grim line, his expression hard.

Without a word he set her away from him. Her rumpled skirts unfurled, brushing down her unsteady legs. With a lump lodged in her throat, she watched him use his handkerchief to wipe away the evidence of his release from his stomach. He then shoved his wrinkled shirt back into his breeches and fastened them, uttering an obscenity when he realized one button was missing, obviously ripped off in his earlier haste. She saw the button on the floor, next to her shoe, and bent to retrieve it. As Gideon didn't notice she'd done so, she slipped the flat disk into the pocket of her gown.

When he finished, he raked his fingers through his hair, hair she'd mussed with her impatient fingers. He then dragged his hands down his face and let them fall limply to his sides, as if he were too exhausted to hold them up any longer.

"I'm sorry," he said through obviously clenched teeth. "I didn't mean to…" He drew in a slow, deep breath. "That shouldn't have happened."

A cold numbness crept into her, pushing aside all the warmth she'd felt just heartbeats ago. "Why?"

Finally a crack showed in the granite of his expression, and disbelief showed through. "Bloody hell, there are more reasons than I have breaths to name them."

"I'll settle for one."

"You know them as well as I do."

"Because I'm getting married."

He shook his head and again stabbed his fingers into his hair. "That's only one of them, the one that has to do with my honor." A bitter sound escaped him. "Or what's left of it." He grasped her by the shoulders, and she saw that his eyes were no longer flat. No, now they were filled with unmistakable anguish. And anger. Although she couldn't tell if he was angry with her or with himself. "I told you-I don't take things that don't belong to me, Julianne. It's a point of pride and honor to me. And as much as I might wish it otherwise, you do not, cannot, will not ever belong to me."

"You are not the only one who would wish it otherwise, Gideon," she said quietly.

He released her and stepped back. "It doesn't matter what either of us might wish. The fact remains you are engaged-"

"Not officially-"

"Irrelevant. It is only a matter of papers to be signed. But even if you weren't betrothed, this… attraction between us is completely impossible. You're an earl's daughter. An aristocrat. A wealthy member of society. I am so far below you socially, I need to stand on a ladder and look up just to squint at the hem of your skirt."

"I told you, the trappings of wealth aren't important to me."

"It doesn't matter. You cannot change who you are. Who I am. And who I'm not. Fancy balls and gowns and jewels might not be important to you, but they're a part of your world. And that is something I'll never be-a part of your world. Your duty is to-"

"Marry according to my father's wishes?" she said bitterly.

"In your world, yes."

"And what is your duty, Gideon?"

"To let you do it. To not steal your innocence-or what bloody little I've left you with. The innocence that belongs to you." A muscle ticked in his jaw. "And your future husband."

"You've taken nothing I haven't freely given."

"Nonetheless, I shouldn't have taken it. I'd resolved I would never touch you. Then, after I did, I resolved it was a mistake, one that couldn't be repeated." He shook his head, closed his eyes, and blew out a long, slow breath. Then he looked at her again. "Clearly it is one thing to resolve not to do something and quite another to follow through on that resolve. But I won't fail again. I will not, cannot make the same mistake again."

Mistake. That's all she was, what they'd shared, to him. "You must think me a terrible wanton."

He shook his head. "No. I take full responsibility. I completely lost control of myself."

"A generous and noble offer, but I cannot allow it. I am just as responsible, if not more so, as I desperately wanted you to lose your control."

Julianne reached out to touch him, but he stepped back, shaking his head. She pressed her empty hands against her midriff, realizing that it wasn't just her hands that were empty. It was everything. Her life. Her heart. Her soul. She felt as if she were trying to hold water in her clenched fists; no matter how hard she gripped, it still trickled through until only emptiness remained.

"Gideon…I have so little time left." She kept her gaze steady on his, fully aware of the desperation creeping into her voice and not caring. "I've been happier in these stolen moments with you than I've ever been in my entire life-"

"Stop. Please." He moved toward her with jerky steps, then cupped her face in his hands. His eyes looked tormented. "God help me, I have no defenses against you. So please don't share any more of yourself, your feelings, with me. Please don't let me see any more of your heart. I don't deserve it, and it's making an already impossible situation even more so." He squeezed his eyes briefly shut then said in a rough whisper, "You have no idea how close to impossible it is for me to walk away as it is."

She reached up and clasped his wrists. "Then don't walk away, Gideon." The words sounded like a desperate plea, but she didn't care. "Let us be together for the next fortnight, until I must leave. I agree it is all we can have of each other. But let us have that much."

His gaze searched hers, and she made no attempt to hide her feelings from him. She let him see all her hopes and wishes, all her wants and needs and desires. All her love. And with her insides jittering with anxiety, she prayed.

Several long seconds passed in silence. Then he slowly released her. And stepped back.

"I can't," he said. "I can't do it to you or myself. If anyone caught wind of this, the scandal would ruin you. You could lose everything."

"And you would lose your honor."

"Yes."

A bitter sound escaped her. There obviously was no point in telling him that, except for creature comforts, she had nothing.

Dear God, how was it possible to hurt so badly when she felt so numb? She managed to jerk her head in a tight nod. "I… I think it's best if I retire now." She pushed the words past the lump clogging her throat, but with the tears pushing behind her eyes she knew her hold on her emotions was tenuous.

Walking as swiftly as she could, she made her way to the blue bedchamber. She heard Gideon walking behind her, heard Caesar trotting next to his master, and Princess Buttercup panting as she jogged to keep up. When they reached her chamber, she scooped up her dog and waited in the corridor while Gideon checked the room.

"All is secure," he said a moment later. "Caesar will remain outside your door. No harm will come to you."

"Thank you," she said tonelessly. No point in telling him the harm had already been done.

And that she'd never, ever be the same.


* * *

After seeing Caesar settled in the corridor outside Julianne's door with a command to guard, Gideon entered his bedchamber. He shut the door behind him then leaned back against the oak panel.