Candice Hern by In the Thrill of the Night

Author:In the Thrill of the Night
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2012-06-26T16:33:05+00:00

CHAPTER 10

"What a lovely bridge." Marianne strolled on the arm of Julian through the extensive gardens at Ossing Park. The grounds were beautiful, and he was eager to point out every feature and provide its history: the Italian garden, the rose garden, the cascade, the obelisk, the orangery, the deer houses, the conservatory.

They had been walking for hours and Marianne's feet were growing sore, but he was so charmingly proud of it all that she did not mind so very much. He had never looked more handsome and she was enjoying her time with him.

"Is this the bridge you were telling me about?" she asked. "The one you had reconstructed?"

"Yes, it is." His blue eyes were lit with an enthusiastic fire, and had been throughout their walk. She had never seen him so full of life. In town, he wore the same air of fashionable ennui, of superciliousness, that most men of the ton seemed obliged to affect. But he was in his element here at Ossing. Clearly he loved the place.

"The old bridge had become too unsafe to use," he said, "and had to be torn down. And though my architects tried to insist on a modern, more sleek design for the new bridge, I wanted to retain the Palladian style of the old one. Anything else just seemed wrong to my eye."

"I am sure you were right. It looks quite perfect to me. In fact, everything here is absolutely beautiful."

He gave her an intense look that sent a tiny shiver across her shoulders. "Yes, everything here is beautiful. Come."

He took her by the hand and pulled her into a nearby grove of trees. Thinking there was a folly or statue or some other feature in the grove that he meant to show her, she was surprised when he stopped, leaned up against a large tree trunk, and tugged her into his arms.

"I am so glad to see you here," he said, pitching his voice low and seductive. "You are as beautiful as anything here at Ossing. No, you are more beautiful."

He pulled her tighter against him, and kissed her.

It was more than a kiss. It was a ravishment. With no attempt at gentle persuasion, he forced her mouth open and plunged his tongue inside. Marianne was a bit startled by the violence of his passion, but a little excited, too. This was rougher than Adam's kiss. More purely carnal. This must be how mature lovers behaved. Nothing coy or subtle. Only raw, unbridled passion.

His tongue fenced with hers and she tried to respond as he would expect her to. But there was an odd sensation of being somehow disconnected from her body, and viewing the kiss as a dispassionate observer. She was very much aware of every move he made — of every stroke of his tongue, of his lips and teeth, of his arm around her neck and the other pressing against the small of her back, of his hips grinding suggestively against hers — and yet she did not feel involved.

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