Chapter Ten The Proposal

They were elbow deep in cookie dough, three baking sheets sitting on the vast kitchen table half-filled with sloppy balls. Ruby was on her knees on the bench, her fingers a mess, slipping Carter, who was sitting across from her doing a crossword puzzle, pieces of dough (while consuming much of it herself) nearly as fast as Julia could put them on the sheets.

“It would be nice, Ruby-girl, if your brother and sister had some cookies when they got home from school,” Julia admonished but her tone was teasing.

After she said this, with confusion Julia noticed Carter stiffen and he glanced swiftly down at his crossword puzzle, all the smiles and winks he’d been passing Ruby erased from his face.

“Carter.”

Julia jumped and turned around to see Douglas stroll arrogantly in the kitchen. She cursed him silently, prowling around like a cat. How a big man like him could be so damn quiet, she’d never know.

Then her mind stilled and she stared at him in wonder. He had a face like thunder and she’d never seen such an expression from Douglas. She was used to either bland or indifferent, and lately, appreciative, but thunderous was new to her and it was both frightening and awe-inspiring.

“Sir?” Carter asked, dropping his crossword and jumping up from the bench, again showing an agility of a much younger man.

Douglas came to a halt next to Julia and declared, “It has come to my attention that I should make some explanations about your priorities.”

Julia held her breath. She didn’t know why but there was an underlying edge of fury in Douglas’s tone that was making her highly uncomfortable. She did not want, nor did she want Ruby, to witness Douglas abuse Carter in the way that Monique freely abused the staff.

However, there was no escape.

Douglas continued. “My mother has led you to believe that you needed her permission in regards to Miss Fairfax using your services.”

Julia and Ruby both looked from Douglas to Carter.

Carter just nodded.

Julia and Ruby looked back to Douglas.

“I apologise for that confusion,” Douglas went on.

Again, Julia and Ruby’s eyes slid back to Carter, whose jaw, they witnessed, dropped as this heretofore unheard phrase came from Douglas’s lips. They turned back to Douglas when he continued speaking.

“Miss Fairfax, not only when she’s doing something for or with the children, but at all times, has priority when you’re assessing your workload. Understood?”

It was Julia’s turn to have Carter’s gaze on her face and her jaw dropped.

“Furthermore,” everyone looked back to Douglas, “she’s to have free use of the Audi TT, the Aston Martin and the Range Rover. Make certain she has easy access to each set of keys.”

“Yes sir,” Carter replied brightly.

Douglas turned his attention to Julia.

“I’d like a word.” It was phrased as a request but certainly wasn’t one.

She felt her stomach flip at the fury that still lay in his eyes. She didn’t know if this stomach flip was fear or something else because in this mood he was both enormously frightening and perversely magnetic.

“Um… I’m making cookies,” she ventured hesitantly.

“This won’t take long.” He turned to leave and Julia instantly decided it best not to fan the flames of that temper. She threw the spoon in the bowl and wiped her hands on the apron tied around her waist then tore at its strings to take it off.

She tossed it on the table while indicating Ruby. “Carter, do you mind?”

“Don’t worry, lass, I’ll watch her,” Carter assured her.

Julia smiled at Carter and tousled Ruby’s hair before she hurried after Douglas and saw he was headed to the study. After last night, and the time before, she didn’t have a lot of good memories of conversations with Douglas in the study so she called after him.

“Could we…?” At her voice, he halted abruptly and turned to her, raising a haughty brow. “Not the study,” she said, her voice timid and she cursed herself. Though, she had to admit, he was scaring her. What he had to be angry about (she, surely, was the one who should be angry after what she’d heard Monique say earlier), she didn’t know but at that moment, she didn’t want to find out.

“Fine,” he clipped, changed his direction and walked back through the dining room, passing her, and he turned right at the door at the end of the room.

Toward her rooms.

“Wait…” she called but he kept going. She thought, hoped, that he intended to go to the chapel instead but he turned right again, pushing open the door to her room and she heard a frightened chirp from Veronika.

“Leave us,” he commanded brusquely and, as Julia turned into her own room, she saw Veronika, her face a mask of fear, hurry out.

At witnessing Veronika’s expression, Julia’s own fear was subsiding, giving way to anger.

“What on earth?” she snapped when she entered her room and closed the door with a slam.

“It has come to my attention that I’ll be having guests at Thanksgiving,” he announced, looking about her room.

He picked up a framed photo from the writing desk that showed Julia with some friends at Margarita Mayhem Night. He gave it a hard glance and then put it down. She watched him do this and saw his movements were rough with rage.

“Yes,” Julia replied, jutting up her chin and steeling herself for a forthcoming tirade, “I’m an American and those kids are half-American and we’ll be celebrating Thanksgiving. Don’t worry, I’ll buy and prepare the food, and serve it, so you won’t feel a hiccup in the strict Sommersgate regimen.”

“In future,” he stated smoothly, “I would like for you to inform me of these things in plenty of time for me to rearrange my schedule so that I can be free to attend.”

Her mouth dropped open again and then she snapped it shut.

“Of course,” she whispered, surprised. That was the last thing she expected to hear.

“Charlotte informs me you have the opportunity of an unpaid consultancy,” he went on.

She looked at him warily. He was angry about something, what, she didn’t know. However, all the things he said belied his apparent wrath.

“Yes,” Julia agreed carefully, drawing out the word longer than necessary.

“Take it,” he ordered. “Veronika can use the extra money. I’ll increase her pay to cover any added duties.”

Julia clenched her teeth together in an effort not to allow her jaw to go slack again.

She watched him as he turned, surprised he knew any personal information about any of his staff much less an underling like Veronika. He walked across to the mantel and picked up another photo. This was of her and Gavin when they were children; she had her arms wrapped around Gavin’s neck and her leg thrown over his lap. He stared at it a moment and then set it down, his face impassive.

“I heard what your mother said,” Julia told him, summoning up all her courage to confront him. His head came up and he looked at her, his face betraying nothing.

“I know you did.”

“If you want me to go, I’ll go. I’ll be happy to go. I just want to take the kids with me. All you have to do is sign over custody –”

“No,” he said flatly and Julia tensed.

“Douglas, I know neither you nor your mother have any interest in the children and both my mother and I will be able to give them a happy, healthy upbringing in Indiana. We can somehow circumvent the will that says they have to be raised at Sommersgate.”

“I said, no.”

It was her turn to shake with fury.

“Why?” Julia asked on a cry. “Why when you obviously don’t care? When you’re more interested in games than your nieces and nephew? When your mother can’t stand the sight of me?”

“Because it’s what Tamsin wanted,” Douglas answered.

“Tamsin wouldn’t have wanted this!” Julia retorted angrily.

For some reason, he smiled. It wasn’t a grin but an all-out, white-flash of teeth against tanned, handsome face smile. Just as quickly as a snap, his fury was gone and he was smiling at her. It was unnerving and it only proved to heighten of her own temper.

“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” she demanded hotly.

She thought he’d refuse but instead he said, “Yes, Julia, I’d very much like to tell you what’s going on.”

But then he said no more.

And she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear what he had to say at all.

She stared at him and he stared back.

“Well?” she snapped, sick to death of his staring contests and curious beyond what she knew was healthy.

“This is what’s going on,” he stated and started back across the room toward her.

When he was halfway to her, she put her hand up. “I… I’d like you to stay where you are,” she stammered and he slowed his determined gait but he did not stop.

“I told Monique that she could either live with you cordially or move out.”

This was so shocking, Julia gasped. He kept moving toward her but she no longer cared.

“You did?” she asked in disbelief.

He didn’t affirm but moved relentlessly forward and didn’t stop until her still raised arm with its upturned hand hit the hard wall of his chest.

“She won’t trouble you anymore and if she does, you’re to phone me immediately and I’ll deal with it.”

Julia swallowed and nodded, too afraid to say a word, his eyes were so dark indigo, they appeared black.

At that moment, she almost felt sorry for Monique.

Almost.

“I… uh, thank you,” she finally broke the silence.

“Don’t thank me, I’m not through yet.”

She nodded again, stupidly, the heat of his body seeping through her hand.

“As for Tamsin’s wishes, I intend to carry them out to the letter. There was a reason she wanted you here, you and your delectable body and your enticing perfume and your legs that go on forever.” She was stunned by his words and could barely process them before he went on. “My sister was a romantic and she cared for us both. She had very specific intentions for this little arrangement she created and I’ve no doubt she talked Gavin around to her way of thinking.”

He was exerting pressure on her hand and she was finding she needed more and more of her strength to keep him at arm’s length.

“What… what way of thinking was that?” Julia spluttered, thinking, from his words, that he’d gone mad, utterly and completely insane.

What he said next proved she was right.

“She wanted me to marry you and I’m going to do it.”

Julia’s entire body froze.

Then she shouted, “What?

Her arm failed and Douglas took advantage. He moved the rest of the way and she retreated until she felt the heel of her foot hit the wall. She was caught and he moved close.

“It’s the perfect solution to this mess,” he informed her calmly. It registered that he’d referred to her as a “mess” and her eyes flashed but before she could say a word, he continued. “You’ll have the protection of my name and thus status over my mother, the children will have a stable family unit, you’ll have freedom to live and work in this country as long as you please and –”

“Why?” she cried, the word filled with anger and confusion.

“Why?” he asked calmly, as if he asked women he barely knew to marry him every day.

“Yes, why? I don’t love you, you don’t love me. What if you found someone else and you and I were married, what would you do then?”

“I wouldn’t. You wouldn’t. I’ll have my solicitors draw up a contract. We’d stay married while the children are underage. When Ruby is old enough to leave the house and doesn’t need our guardianship anymore, you can decide to move on if you wish. I’ll be certain throughout our marriage that you have a generous allowance and when, or if, you left, I would give you healthy settlement. So healthy, you wouldn’t need a pension. In the meantime, you can work, if you like, and –”

She could just move on?

“Marriage?” she whispered, her eyes narrowed. “Have you lost your mind?”

He shook his head and she stared at him in disbelief, casting around for anything that would get this crazy scheme out of his head.

“So what do you do when you…” she stopped, flustered, then started again, “need to see to your needs? Or when I do for that matter? You just ignore my lovers and I ignore yours?”

“There’ll be no lovers,” he announced implacably, almost forcefully, his hands furthering the point by coming to grip her upper arms firmly.

“A platonic marriage of convenience with no release?” She couldn’t believe they were having this conversation. She couldn’t believe he of all people was making this suggestion. He was a known womaniser, even a celebrated one.

“I never said the marriage would be platonic, Julia.”

At that, she jumped away with a surprised yelp and slammed against the wall.

Trapped, she could do nothing but stare at him in astonishment.

“You’re saying you want to marry me, marry me. As in a real, full-blown, consummated union of the souls?”

“There’ll be a union but I cannot guarantee it’ll be of souls,” he replied and she gaped at him open-mouthed.

Then she snapped her mouth shut.

“No,” she shook her head, unable to cope with this latest announcement, “no way, no.”

“May I ask why?” he queried calmly.

“Because it… is… insane,” Julia enunciated her words carefully then she demanded, “Step back.”

“No,” he replied and her panic rose. “You’ll have a good life, I promise you that,” he vowed softly, changing tactics, his voice was now coaxing. “Anything you want, you’ll have. Command of this house, control of the children. We’ll offer all of this to William as my heir or we could make our own –”

“Children?” she asked, her voice a high-pitched squeak.

“If you wish,” he replied as if it mattered less to him than… her mind raced but she couldn’t think what mattered to him at all.

“This is nuts, insane, crazy. Absolutely beyond –”

“I’m not insane, Julia. I’m a busy man who has assumed a terrible responsibility I’d rather not have. Not because I don’t care about those children but because my responsibility for them means my sister is dead.”

That shut Julia up and she stared at him in wonder. It was the first time he’d ever spoken of it with any emotion. His dark eyes were darker, if that could be possible, and blazing.

“God,” she breathed, “you’re doing this for Tamsin.”

“Not just for Tamsin, no.”

“Then why?” she asked, incredulous and curious at the same time.

“Because I need a wife and because you’ll make a good one.”

She stared at him in open-faced shock at that unlikely pronouncement.

Then she gathered control of herself and declared, “I’ve tried marriage before and I’m here to tell you that I am not good at it.”

“You were fine, it was the bastard you chose who wasn’t good at it,” he informed her like he was their long-term marriage counsellor and could make such a judgement.

She tried another tactic. “Okay, then I don’t want to be good at it. I don’t want to be married to you or… or anyone!”

He leaned in, put his hand up on the wall at the side of her head and when he spoke his voice was low and smooth. “Then I’ll have to persuade you to change your mind.”

She knew exactly what he meant.

Again, she narrowed her eyes. “Don’t you dare!”

“Do you think I can’t?”

“Of course you can’t,” she scoffed.

Mistake.

Big, big mistake.

Because it was then, Douglas kissed her. Pressing his body full against hers and with nowhere to run, no way to get away, she was forced to endure.

And she had to endure. She had to prove she was immune to him. She had to prove that the morning in the dining room was a fluke.

But the heat shimmered through his body to hers, her breasts were pressed against his hard chest, his mouth was teasing, tempting.

Dear Lord.

Julia managed to keep her mouth resolutely shut and tried to think of things that were very unsexy. She thought of the doodle art he patronised for the gallery and that was a good start. Pleased with herself, she stiffened her body in resistance.

Douglas, unfortunately, was not deterred. His arms, which had slid around her, pulled her from the wall and moulded her to him, breasts against chest; soft, yielding hips against hard, straining ones. One arm held her firmly about the waist while the other hand slid down, softly, gently, over her bottom.

His hand at her bottom felt good. Oh God. Too good.

As tingles shot across her skin, she thought harder about the doodles then her mind flashed to him handing her a glass of champagne. Then to him sitting in the Bentley and talking about her perfume. Then to him holding her face gently in his hands and stroking her jaw and bottom lip while she told her tale of woe last night. Her resolve quickly flagged as the tingles matured to delicious tremors.

She groaned in despair, low in her throat, and pressed her hands against his chest, pushing him away while his teeth nibbled at her lips in an illicit and enticing way, his one wayward hand had moved up her side and was now stroking, slowly, achingly slowly, against the side of her breast.

“Stop it!” she finally cried, turning her face away but he didn’t stop. He was relentless. His mouth trailed down her cheek to her neck.

This was big mistake number two. The skin of Julia’s neck was sensitive. As he dragged his lips, whisper-soft, along her neck to nip at her earlobe she felt shivers shoot through her body. Her breasts swelled against her will, straining against his chest and she wriggled against him to get away from his mouth. Her stomach was melting, her legs were going weak and his heat was penetrating her body everywhere it touched.

“Kiss me,” he urged in her ear, his deep voice like velvet and a fresh shudder tore through her.

“No,” she denied, her breath coming fast.

“Kiss me once and I’ll leave you alone,” he promised, his head coming up to look at her.

She felt a flash of hope. “Now and forever, no more talk about marriage, no more of these… episodes?” She pressed him verbally as she pushed against his chest.

He grinned, then rubbed his lips back and forth against her firmly closed ones and she longed to stop that intimate caress by pressing her lips to his.

“No,” he finally stopped his torture to reply against her mouth.

She dug deep into the last reserves of her strength. “Then no, I won’t kiss you, now or –”

His hand, which had been stroking the side of her breast quickly lowered, going under her denim shirt, under her thermal t-shirt and up her belly.

“What are you…?” she breathed against his mouth, trying to sound in control but everywhere he touched sent a path a fire, her muscles contracting as his hand caressed its way from her belly upwards, the whole time he watched her face, his eyes heavy-lidded.

“Please don’t,” she begged on a whisper, not caring how weak she sounded because she knew she couldn’t endure much more.

This was Douglas, handsome, compelling Douglas and she’d had a crush on him since the moment she laid eyes on him.

Not to mention, it had been a long time for her, a dry spell, an enormous dry spell and it was like not eating for months and then being shown to a five-star, gourmet banquet. Douglas, so close, pressed against her, his hand working wonders, was the banquet and she, unfortunately, felt like gorging herself.

His hand cupped her breast over her bra, his thumb rubbing against her nipple and Julia instantly melted. She closed her eyes and moaned low in her throat, the workings of his thumb shooting dizzying shafts of pleasure from her nipple downward through her belly straight between her legs.

She bit her lip in an effort at control just as she clutched at his shirt.

“Stop it,” Julia whispered, her eyes flying open to see the satisfaction on his face.

He didn’t stop, he nibbled at her lips and they parted in a silent gasp as his thumb caught at the top edge of her bra, pulling the cup down roughly and it carried on with its earlier work, this time with no barrier, skin against skin.

Oh my, but that feels nice, Julia thought but out loud she whimpered as the pleasure intensified.

“Kiss me.” It was a demand this time, rumbling out from deep in his chest.

“No,” she denied him, how she did it, she didn’t know as she was nearly at her end.

At her denial, Douglas parted her legs with his knee, pulling her towards him, the heat of his thigh like fire on the insides of hers even through her jeans. His thumb ceased rubbing only to be immediately replaced by both thumb and forefinger providing more excruciatingly lush pleasure. Her head fell back and, against her volition, her back arched pressing her breast more deeply into his hand.

She raised her head and stared at him with angry, passion-filled eyes. “You bastard,” she breathed and he chuckled low in his throat.

“Kiss me,” he commanded again.

And she did. She couldn’t help herself. She wrapped her arms around his neck, slid herself up his thigh and opened her mouth under his.

She touched her tongue to his, her stomach somersaulted and then plummeted. His fingers righted her bra, his hand moved away from her breast and his arms slid around her, holding her so tightly it took her breath away. His mouth was demanding and insistent and she gave him everything he asked for and then more.

And she gloried in doing it.

Then, finally, in one move of pure strength and willpower, she tore away. Sliding to the side she quickly put five feet between them.

“I think…” she said, her voice husky, her eyes flashing, her breath coming in halting gasps, “I hate you.”

“Not words on which to start a lasting engagement, so I’ll focus on your actions instead.” His voice was also lusciously husky and his breath heavy but his face was set and determined.

He walked forward, she stood her ground and she would have scratched his eyes out if he reached for her (or, at least, she told herself she would).

He didn’t, instead he lifted his hand and just ran his thumb across her swollen bottom lip while she held herself frozen.

To her surprise, he murmured simply, “I’ll make you happy.”

“From current behaviour,” she snapped in return, “I find that impossible to believe.”

He smiled at her, that devastating smile then he leaned forward, brushed her lips with his, pulled away and walked out the door.

She stared at it in disgust, grabbed a pillow off the bed and threw it at the door. Then another one and then another, until they all sat on the floor behind the door and she sat on the bed with her head in her hands and her mind blank to everything but the memory of his beautiful, mind-shattering touch.

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