GREEN EYES

Author:Green Eyes
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2011-02-21T01:37:49.375000+00:00

XXVIII

Julian lay on his back, his eyes half closed, savoring the feel of the naked woman curled against his side. Her head lay on his shoulder. Her glorious hair spilled across his chest. He stroked those tumbled tresses, marveling that, after all they'd been through that night, her hair still felt like silk. Her naked breasts pressed into his side. Sated now, they were soft and beguiling, small innocent mounds tipped with rosebud nipples that could have belonged to a young girl.

In the past, he'd liked his women fully grown and fully developed. But in this slip of a girl he'd found woman enough to take his breath.

He'd wanted to make love to her the first time he'd set eyes on her. Her slender blond beauty combined with those breathtaking green eyes would alone have been enough to intrigue him. Add to that a nature that was as blazingly passionate as her exterior was coolly innocent, and enough gumption to knock him cold and then make off with the emeralds, and the lady was dazzling. She appealed to him in ways that no other woman, however witty or voluptuous, ever had.

He even liked the fierceness, so at odds with her fragile appearance, with which she protected her daughter. A fine mother, she was. She'd been a fine, loyal wife too, which he supposed was also to be chalked up to her credit. Although every time he pictured her wed to his late, unlamented half brother he wanted to grit his teeth.

Everything he'd ever striven for, his brothers had managed to get without even trying. Including, in Paul's case, Anna.

He'd never actually met the younger of the Traverne brothers. He'd only seen Paul from a distance, once or maybe twice at Gordon Hall and several times when Paul and Graham had been brought up to London on some whim of their father's. It had been after he'd attempted to force his father to at least acknowledge his existence, so he'd been about seventeen. Paul would have been at least six, but he'd looked like a mere infant to Julian. Guarded by a nanny-dragon, Lord Ridley's two wanted sons spent most afternoons of their visit to town in the park, and Julian felt himself drawn irresistibly to their vicinity. He had never identified himself, never made any attempt to approach them, but only watched.

They were dressed like little princes, in velvet and lace, with pristine white stockings that made him green with envy even when they dirtied them playing. Each of them had hoops, which they would roll with a stick along the paths, and small wooden boats, which they sailed on the pond. Julian, whose only toys had been crude ones that he or his granny had found or fashioned, had coveted those toys with a fierceness that, given his age, had embarrassed him. Years later, he had the maturity to wonder if what he had longed for was not so much the toys but all that they represented.

Those clean, well-dressed, and well-fed boys were his brothers, born of the same father.

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