The Secret of Hollyfield House, Jude Bayton [books for 20 year olds txt] 📗

ask him? Nevertheless, I slept like a baby, cocooned in a swathe of new love, the taste of Dominic’s kiss still on my mouth.

I awoke to a miserable and rainy morning. After breakfast, I excused myself and got ready for the walk to Wolfe Farm. When I left, Uncle Jasper was already ensconced with Mrs Stackpoole in his study. They were deep into the preparation of his lecture which would be that night, and I do not think they even heard my farewell.

It was pouring outside, hardly an ideal day to be out and about. By the time I reached Wolfe Farm, my coat was soaked, and my umbrella sodden and blown inside out. The wind from the lake had played havoc with my hair, and when I stepped inside Dominic’s cottage, I knew I must look like a wild banshee.

He laughed when I told him as much. Then he pulled off my coat and hung it on a peg to dry in the hallway, then guided me to the fireplace where I took a seat. I was grateful for the hot drink he pressed into my hands while I basked in front of the fire.

“I cannot believe it is so cold out there. It is May for goodness sake.” I complained.

“Ah, but you are not in Devon now, Jilly. Here in the hills the weather is changeable. When the wind and rain comes off the lake, the damp burrows into your bones.”

I shuddered and drank more of the brew, which chased away my chills. “Will we wait for the weather to pass before going to the boathouse?” I had no desire to get soaked once again.

“I fear the rain is here for the day, but hopefully it will lighten some, and then we can venture out. For now, you’ll have to stay here with me, and I shall make the most of having you as my captive.” He gave a rascally grin, and I smiled back, rather pleased with the intent lacing his words.

Dominic came over to where I sat and knelt before my chair. He took the mug from my hands and set it down upon the floor. We stared at one another intently. When he reached up and tugged at the pins which held my hair in the remnants of a bun, I sighed. As he removed each one, the weight lessened from my head and my tresses fell down past my shoulders.

“Oh, Jillian,” he sighed. “Would that I could paint you. You are so beautiful.”

His eyes were like liquid amber. I wetted my lips.

“You are like Athena,” he said softly, “with your velvet brown hair cascading down your back.” He threaded his fingers through the mass at my shoulders. “I want to capture you in oil, Jillian. Then you will become immortal.” His face came closer to my own, and I could see the flecks of bronze in his irises, the thick fringe of dark lashes, the hint of whiskers darkening his complexion. Drawing nearer, he released my hair from his hands and slid them down to rest on my shoulders. Gently he pulled me towards him.

I watched his lips part, and I was in a trance as we came together, our mouths meeting in sweet expectation. It was a tender kiss, slow and purposeful. But it grew in intensity, and as his warm tongue entered my mouth, I knew the moment my needs became urgent. The kiss grew wilder, and my senses abandoned everything, all so I might languish in this time—this moment.

And then suddenly he stopped. As Dominic drew away from me, I knew he could see the naked hunger on my face. My breath came in gasps from my lips, still swollen from his kiss.

“Dominic?” Some primal urge had taken hold of me. “Dominic,” I whispered, “I want you.”

I saw the play of emotion ripple across his face—a mixture of desire and responsibility. As I watched him give into the latter, the heat began waning from my veins, and I was sorry for it to leave.

“Dearest Jilly.” Dominic lifted his hand and traced the line of my jaw with a finger. “You have the passion of a temptress.” He smiled, and the breath caught in my throat, this feeling he stirred within me was so powerful.

“Though it becomes more difficult each time we meet, I will not take advantage of you,”

The surge of disappointment which engulfed me took me by surprise. I almost did not recognise my wanton self as I sat before this sensual man who radiated masculinity. The thought sobered me. I must stop my licentious behaviour before I went too far. Heat rose in my cheeks along with a sense of irritation that I could be such a hypocrite.

Dominic rose to his feet and gave me an encouraging look. “I believe you and I have much-unfinished business, Jilly.” His expression gladdened me; it showed the promise of things to come.

“But for now,” he continued. “I must concentrate on Billy and this horrible situation. What I feel for you should be addressed another time, and not tainted with worry and concern which are my constant companions of late.” He went to the hob and stoked the coals.

I reached down to the ground and collected the pins Dominic had taken from my hair and then went over to a small mirror hanging in the kitchen. With practised hands, I gathered my tresses and secured them neatly into a bun.

“I prefer it down,” he said softly.

I had no reply. This role was new to me, and the level of intimacy something I had not known before. Beyond a flirty glance or lewd whistle, I had never been the object of anyone’s desire. Now that role was like a dress I had yet to grow into. Perhaps in time, I would metamorphose from the ingenue I believed myself to be.

I walked over to the window by the kitchen sink. “How fares our weather?”

“Wet,” Dominic said drily, coming to stand beside me. The sky was