He squirmed uncomfortably.
"After marriage, a husband and wife are sworn to be faithful to each other. It does not matter who or what came before, it only matters that they choose each other for life."
"So on Puerta Sirena, Margaret would not be condemned for taking more than one lover?"
"No, but she would be beaten for lying."
"Really?"
Now it was Anya's time to squirm. "No, but she should be beaten. I would certainly ask that she be punished."
They became silent for a long while. All she could hear was the rumble of the wheels on the road, the steady clomp of the horses' hoofbeats, and Julian's heartbeat. It all worked together in a strange sort of rhythm, and almost lulled her to sleep. But she could not sleep.
"Did you kiss her?" she whispered.
"Anya..."
"Did you?" She unconsciously fingered her gold ring.
The wheels turned, the horses plodded onward, and Julian's heart continued to beat.
"Yes," he finally said.
Anya sighed. "On Puerta Sirena, it is permissible for a man and woman to seek out and satisfy their most passionate desires without restraint. Fardini . But a kiss... a kiss is reserved for the expression of love."
Julian squirmed. "A kiss can be very intimate, in the right circumstances."
"The needs of the body and the needs of the heart are not always the same. A kiss is an expression of love from the heart. It is a promise, a most sacred vow."
"I didn't know that."
Anya tipped her head back and looked at Julian's face. He was so handsome, caught in moonlight, with his hair slightly mussed and his face turned to watch the passing fields as they made their way out of the city. "Is it very nice?" she whispered.
"Is what nice?"
"A kiss."
Julian glanced down. When he looked at her like this she knew he desired her. He did not want to desire her, but he did. It was a passion he had been fighting since the day they had met. He had fought well and hard.
Now that Anya had met Margaret, she knew why he fought so hard. A woman had deceived him, and he was afraid of being deceived again. Worse, in his mind Margaret had made a fool of him, and Julian DeButy was not a man to be made a fool of. He would not allow that to happen again.
"A kiss," she repeated. "What is it like?"
"You know perfectly well," he said, his voice deep and rough.
"I do not know." She looked at his mouth, studied the lines and the tempting swell. He had such fine, well-shaped, firm lips. "I have never been kissed."
Chapter 7
A man could only take so much. I have never been kissed . For the past four days, every time he looked at Anya he heard those whispered words, lightly accented and touched with wonder. I have never been kissed .
He had been tempted to kiss her there and then, as the carriage carried them home, but he had not. He had been tempted to kiss her a hundred times since, but he had not. A man could not live in this condition, surely. He was aroused more often than not, haunted by erotic dreams, and his nerves had been stretched to the very limit. A dropped dish in the kitchen had sent him jumping out of his chair, just last night. Valerie's occasional twittering laughter made him want to shout for her to shut up, and Seymour's very presence made his fingers itch and his hands ball into fists.
Since he had not been sleeping well, he'd actually fallen asleep that afternoon, a book in his lap and a silk-scarf-clad Anya seated on the other side of the room. Her scarves were not sufficient lately to quiet his nerves. A voluminous tent made of wool dwarfing and disguising her body would not have been sufficient to quiet the passion that danced within him. She was more tempting now than she had been when she so blatantly tried to seduce him.
Waking and finding her gone was an unpleasant surprise. He had opened his eyes expecting to find her where she had been when he'd dozed off. No, not expecting. Anticipating. Julian slipped on his jacket and headed downstairs. He presumed he would find Anya in the
"After marriage, a husband and wife are sworn to be faithful to each other. It does not matter who or what came before, it only matters that they choose each other for life."
"So on Puerta Sirena, Margaret would not be condemned for taking more than one lover?"
"No, but she would be beaten for lying."
"Really?"
Now it was Anya's time to squirm. "No, but she should be beaten. I would certainly ask that she be punished."
They became silent for a long while. All she could hear was the rumble of the wheels on the road, the steady clomp of the horses' hoofbeats, and Julian's heartbeat. It all worked together in a strange sort of rhythm, and almost lulled her to sleep. But she could not sleep.
"Did you kiss her?" she whispered.
"Anya..."
"Did you?" She unconsciously fingered her gold ring.
The wheels turned, the horses plodded onward, and Julian's heart continued to beat.
"Yes," he finally said.
Anya sighed. "On Puerta Sirena, it is permissible for a man and woman to seek out and satisfy their most passionate desires without restraint. Fardini . But a kiss... a kiss is reserved for the expression of love."
Julian squirmed. "A kiss can be very intimate, in the right circumstances."
"The needs of the body and the needs of the heart are not always the same. A kiss is an expression of love from the heart. It is a promise, a most sacred vow."
"I didn't know that."
Anya tipped her head back and looked at Julian's face. He was so handsome, caught in moonlight, with his hair slightly mussed and his face turned to watch the passing fields as they made their way out of the city. "Is it very nice?" she whispered.
"Is what nice?"
"A kiss."
Julian glanced down. When he looked at her like this she knew he desired her. He did not want to desire her, but he did. It was a passion he had been fighting since the day they had met. He had fought well and hard.
Now that Anya had met Margaret, she knew why he fought so hard. A woman had deceived him, and he was afraid of being deceived again. Worse, in his mind Margaret had made a fool of him, and Julian DeButy was not a man to be made a fool of. He would not allow that to happen again.
"A kiss," she repeated. "What is it like?"
"You know perfectly well," he said, his voice deep and rough.
"I do not know." She looked at his mouth, studied the lines and the tempting swell. He had such fine, well-shaped, firm lips. "I have never been kissed."
Chapter 7
A man could only take so much. I have never been kissed . For the past four days, every time he looked at Anya he heard those whispered words, lightly accented and touched with wonder. I have never been kissed .
He had been tempted to kiss her there and then, as the carriage carried them home, but he had not. He had been tempted to kiss her a hundred times since, but he had not. A man could not live in this condition, surely. He was aroused more often than not, haunted by erotic dreams, and his nerves had been stretched to the very limit. A dropped dish in the kitchen had sent him jumping out of his chair, just last night. Valerie's occasional twittering laughter made him want to shout for her to shut up, and Seymour's very presence made his fingers itch and his hands ball into fists.
Since he had not been sleeping well, he'd actually fallen asleep that afternoon, a book in his lap and a silk-scarf-clad Anya seated on the other side of the room. Her scarves were not sufficient lately to quiet his nerves. A voluminous tent made of wool dwarfing and disguising her body would not have been sufficient to quiet the passion that danced within him. She was more tempting now than she had been when she so blatantly tried to seduce him.
Waking and finding her gone was an unpleasant surprise. He had opened his eyes expecting to find her where she had been when he'd dozed off. No, not expecting. Anticipating. Julian slipped on his jacket and headed downstairs. He presumed he would find Anya in the
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