“Julia?” Douglas barked, completely ignoring Webster and she jumped again, taking her closer to the fire, so close she could easily get burned. “Oh, for f**k’s sake,” Douglas finished tersely and he walked forward, threw the flowers unceremoniously on the table as he passed, grabbed her upper arm and yanked her unresisting body away from the flames.
“Do you want to explain this to me?” he clipped, not taking his hand from her arm.
“I was –” she started to speak and her voice was small in a way he’d never heard before, in a way that, hearing it, made his heart squeeze painfully. She looked up at him and her eyes cleared.
As she gazed at him, he saw raw emotion take the place of the blankness that preceded it. He’d seen that look in her eyes twice before, once after the first time they made love and again, in the hall Christmas night after Ruby’s outburst. Both times, seeing it, he’d nearly come undone.
He surveyed the room, his hand gentling on her arm.
Julia wouldn’t invite Sean Webster to a cosy, romantic dinner in his dining room.
Julia wouldn’t invite Webster anywhere.
Douglas turned to the other man. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to talk to Julia. I heard about Gavin and –” Sean was also surveying the room, Julia’s dress and the flowers and the cosy scene finally dawned on him making his face get red. “What are you doing with my wife?” he demanded hotly.
At his words, Douglas, already furious, became incensed.
“She’s not your wife!” Douglas exploded, “She’s going to be my wife!”
Webster’s eyes rounded and then immediately narrowed. You could see the anger fill his face the second before he masked it.
His gaze moved to Julia and his voice turned urgent, pleading. “Jewel, baby, you have to listen to what I was saying earlier.”
Julia shook her arm free of Douglas’s hand and he swung back towards her, ready to do battle for her, ready to throw Webster bodily from the house if she wanted him to, not ready to let her withdraw.
Instead of retreating into her shell, though, she grabbed Douglas’s hand and tugged gently on it.
“This was for you, you know,” she said, her voice, still small, was getting stronger. “Mrs. K helped me, and Ronnie and Lizzie.”
What he suspected was true. Julia would never strike out at him that way.
Never.
That was when he knew he’d won and he felt the exultation of his victory tear through his entire system.
Unable but also unwilling to control his reaction, Douglas pulled her hand sharply, she fell into his body and his arms shot around her, crushing her to him. Then his mouth came down on hers brutally, victoriously, her head was tilted up to him, ready for it, inviting it and he kissed her.
Douglas kissed Julia with the dazed passion that surged through his body, exultant in the triumph at her sweet capitulation. It was hot and wet and delicious and better than he would expect it to be even with all the kisses they’d shared before.
And Julia kissed him back without even the briefest hesitation.
“Excuse me! I’m still in the room!” Webster shouted but neither Douglas nor Julia looked at him.
“Say it,” Douglas commanded when he lifted his head.
She smiled, it was tremulous but it was genuine and he felt his body respond to it.
“I want to marry you.” Her voice was back, full, low and husky and he kissed her again. He couldn’t have stopped it if a freight train was pulling him from the opposite direction. She wrapped her arms around his neck, slid her fingers into his hair, pressed her soft body into his and he groaned his satisfaction into her mouth.
When he let her go, he kept one arm locked around her while he pulled a box out of the breast pocket of his suit jacket.
He flipped it open with his thumb and then ordered, “Give me your hand.”
She didn’t hesitate but stopped idly playing with the hair at his collar and extended the fingers of her left hand toward him. He let go of her waist, took the ring out of the box and tossed it casually onto the table making her emit a little giggle.
“You’re going to ruin the table if you keep throwing things on it,” Julia muttered.