A Perfect Hero by Samantha James

And—she had liked being needed.
    Even if it was by an outlaw!
    She shrugged, tugging one foot onto her knee and pulling off her slipper. Oh, but her feet did ache! She was quite certain she hadn’t sat down even once throughout the day.
    Dane adjusted his arm on the pillow. “My dear Julianna, if it eases your mind, removing your stockings will hardly send me into fits of lust.”
    Julianna frowned at him. His habit of discern ing her thoughts was rather vexing, his suggestion quite improper. Yet what about their acquaintance had been proper anyway?
    Tugging off her slippers, she rubbed her feet, blew out the candles, and slipped beneath the sheet.
    They lay together, shoulder to shoulder. The only sound was the crackle and hiss of the fire.
    It was Dane who broke the silence. “I suppose this is quite a change from your life of leisure. You do lead a life of leisure, I take it?”
    “Yes, but I am not a laggard.”
    His eyes flickered. “I didn’t mean to imply that you were.” He paused. “What would you be do ing if you weren’t here?”
    She considered. “Well,” she said thoughtfully, “if I were at my home in Bath, I would probably be out for an evening walk in the countryside. If I were in London, I would likely be dancing at a ball—” there was no mistaking the smile beneath the words “—I suppose in either case, my feet would surely be aching anyway.”
    He laughed. “Thank you. That eases my mind considerably.” Silence drifted between them, yet it was an oddly intimate silence.
    “Julianna?”
    “Yes?”
    “Why did you stay, Miss Julianna Clare?” He stopped. Something flickered across his face. “I didn’t think you would.”
    Miss Julianna Clare . Guilt lodged in her breast. Her smile froze. A faint distress crept into her eyes, for she’d forgotten that particular un truth. “Why are you asking me this?”
    “I should think it would be obvious. Because I wish to know.” He turned to the side, leaning on his good shoulder.
    “Dane!” she protested. “You shouldn’t—”
    “I want to see you when you answer.” Heed less of the fire that burned in his shoulder, he snared her chin. A thumb beneath her jaw, he brought her gaze to his.
    “Why did you stay?” Quietly, he posed the question once more. “You didn’t have to. You could have left me.”
    Sudden, startling tears brimmed in her eyes. “No,” she stated haltingly. “I couldn’t. I looked back, and I saw you, the way you looked at me...and I couldn’t leave you like that. I just couldn’t! And—I’m so sorry I shot you. You can not know how sorry I am!”
    He nearly groaned. “You’re a tenderhearted soul, aren’t you, kitten?”
    She shook her head. “Dane, I—”
    A finger slid along the line of her jaw. “Hush,” he commanded. “ Hush .”
    Their eyes collided.
    The words she’d been about to utter evaporated.
    He didn’t plan it, though God knew he’d imagined it. It simply ...happened. Dane didn’t know why—he didn’t care. His gaze lowered slowly on her lips. Leaning over, he saw the way her eyes widened—a flash of realization—as she discerned his intent.
    His mouth closed slowly over hers.
    She didn’t stop him.
    No, she didn’t stop him—and the earth could have been splintering to pieces all around them— and Dane wouldn’t have cared. Nothing could have stopped him from kissing her. Her lashes fluttered shut. Her lips parted beneath his. The scent of lemon that clung to her skin teased his nostrils ...The whisper of a sigh echoed in his mouth.
    He took his time, acquainting himself with the essence of her mouth. Tasting her, the way the center of her lower lip pouted out ever so slightly, there where the color bloomed to a ripe shade of pink ...the heat of her breath mingling with his, the way her breathing quickened.
    The ache in his shoulder was forgotten. She was so slight and delicate, he was half-afraid to lean over her, afraid she could not bear his weight.
    A shudder ran