Juliana laughed, a low, frustrated laugh that made every nerve in his body sing. "I thought you liked buttons, James," she chided softly over her shoulder in a voice so heart-wrenchingly sensuous he feared he might go out of his mind. "For some reason, I've come to believe you like buttons. I instructed the seamstress to put so many buttons on my dress because I had the impression you'd enjoy unbuttoning all of them."
And in a sense, he did. Still clenching his jaw, he bent his head and steeled himself to the task. Slowly he swept the hair off the nape of her neck, slowly he placed a soft kiss on the sensitive, warm bit of skin above her top button. A cherishing kiss, drawing in her scent, that impossibly tempting scent of flowers and sunshine and Juliana. And then slowly he began unbuttoning the buttons, the never-ending column of buttons, kissing each precious new patch of skin as it was exposed along her sweet, slender back. And in a sense, he did enjoy it. But in another sense, the mounting pressure of anticipation seemed to be more, much more, than any man should have to bear.
It didn't take all night, but it took much, much longer than he wanted. Going slowly proved to be much, much harder than he'd hoped. Juliana sighed, and she moaned, and each of her sounds, each of her tiny, precious sounds seemed to crawl into him and lodge someplace in his heart. It seemed forever by the time he managed to unbutton all the buttons. It seemed longer than the longest month of his life.
After all the waiting, after all the torturous unbuttoning of buttons, he finally slid the loosened dress down her body, over curving hips, down silky limbs, her soft skin all burnished by the light of the flickering fire in the Gold Chamber. Finally, finally, he bore her down to the bed. And stood back, for what seemed like one everlasting moment, the last moment before he made Juliana his.
It was a moment he'd remember forever, a scene eternally imprinted in his mind. Cainewood Castle was filled with heavy, dark oak furnishings that had served her family well in the nearly six hundred years they'd owned the place, but this one room had been decorated for a royal visit in some previous century, and all the furniture was gilt, all the walls and the four-poster bed draped with heavy golden fabrics.
Everything seemed to glitter. Juliana's skin seemed to glitter, beckoning him. Juliana's eyes seemed to glitter, her passion-filled, half-closed eyes a deep, deep blue glitter that taunted him. Even her hair seemed to glitter. No sooner had they entered the room than he'd released it from its pins, and now all the shining straight tresses seemed to be shimmering over her shoulders, spread across the bedclothes, glimmering in the golden light.
An answering glimmer heating his body, he shucked the last of his clothes and lowered himself slowly to meet her. He didn't ask her this time. He knew what her answer would be, and he didn't want to hear any words. He wanted only to hear her soft cries as he finally, finally slid into her, as he finally, finally came home and made her his.
Juliana had dreamed of this moment, but nothing she'd imagined matched the feeling of completion when James joined his body with hers. Nothing had ever felt so beautiful, nothing had ever felt so right. Nothing had ever felt so perfect as the two of them together. It had been worth waiting for, she thought fiercely just before she seemed to burst into a million glittering pieces.
But still and all, as the million pieces slowly started drifting back together, as James kissed her again, his mouth a warm promise on hers, she couldn't help being thankful that she'd never have to wait again.
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If you'd like to learn more about the real people, places, and events in Tempting Juliana, read on for my Author's Note...
BONUS MATERIAL
Author's Note
Books by Lauren Royal
Regency Chase Family Tree
Excerpt from THE ART OF TEMPTATION
Contest
About the Author
Acknowledgments
Jewels of Historical Romance
Contact Information
AUTHOR'S NOTE
Dear Readers,
In April 1815, Mount Tambora erupted on the Indonesian island of Sumbawa, sending more ash into the air than any volcano in the last ten thousand years. Over the next year, the dust rose into the upper atmosphere and spread slowly across the planet, obscuring the sunlight to such an extent that extreme weather conditions prevailed in places halfway around the world. The growing season was plagued by a series of devastating cold waves that destroyed crops, greatly reducing the food supply and causing widespread famine. Snow fell in June, and 1816 came to be known as "The Year Without a Summer."
The people of
