Sinful Confessions by Samantha Holt

turned them over in her lap, letting her
gaze fall to the third finger on her left hand. He waited silently, much as she
had two days ago. He intended to work a confession out of her with his silence.
It worked.
     “I
must tell you something,” she spilled out before she could lose her nerve. She
had to tell him everything of her. Every little sordid detail. After all he had
told her, all he had done for her, she owed him that much, surely?
    A
crease formed between his brows but he waited.
    “I
am not a virgin.”
    There.
The words were out there. The words that had followed her around for so long.
Ruined. Spoiled. Broken.
    Julian
did not move. Did not fling her out by her hair. But his jaw worked and he
waited.
    “I
was engaged when I was seventeen. My father had begun to amass his fortune and
it was a good connection to make. The gentleman was twenty-five years older
than me and charming. I thought myself in love with him.” She released a small
smile. “I am ruined you see? I let him coax me into bed and a few weeks later,
he broke off the engagement and went on to marry an older woman. I suspect he
didn’t really want a naive girl like me for a wife.”
    His
jaw continued to work. She heard his teeth grind even over the pop of the fire.
A coil of tension wound inside her. Would he think her foolish too? Her father
and brothers had declared it her fault. And of course, society blamed her too.
Rupert had gone on to enjoy a happy marriage and more success while she had
been left behind in the shadows of shame.
    “I’m
ruined. No one wants me.” Her voice cracked a little. For so long she had tried
to forget the humiliation. Marrying Julian would have given her so much. A new
life, a restored reputation. Finally her family could be proud of her.
    Before
any tears could spill, she leaped up from the chair and stalked away. She had
embarrassed herself in front of Julian enough as it was. She couldn’t let him
see yet more tears. Not to mention the one thing she feared most—seeing the
judgement in his gaze, the disappointment at knowing she had given herself away
so easily. That had been the one thing letters had shielded her from. He would
never have to know the full truth.
    Strong
fingers latched around her wrist before she could reach the door. He whirled
her around and drew her flat against him. The air vanished from her lungs,
partly from impact, partly from the sheer shock of having his body pressed to
hers.
    “I
want you.” His lips came down upon hers, firm and demanding.
    Viola
gasped and he pressed his fingers into her hair. She heard a few pins drop onto
the wooden floor and curls fell about her face. Thrown off balance, she
staggered until her back struck the bookcase not far from the door. She drew in
another sharp breath but Julian merely used it to push the kiss deeper. His
tongue twined with hers and explored a part of her mouth no other man had.
Never before had she been kissed like this.
    Panting,
he drew back. “You are worth so much,” he told her, gazing deep into her eyes
and holding her captive. “Your fiancé was an utter fool not to see it.”
    He
dragged up her skirts, inching them higher and higher. Taffeta skimmed the tops
of her thighs and fabric crunched. She sucked in a breath when warm fingertips touched
the sensitive skin just inside the hem of her drawers.
    “I
wish you were wearing a crinoline,” he muttered against her neck.
    Viola
drew in a shuddery breath while his lips traced a path over her sensitive skin.
He played his lips up and down her neck. Up and down, up and down, sketching a
trail between her ear and shoulder.
    “W-why?”
she asked, eyes closed. The sensations he summoned were unlike anything she’d
ever experienced. The overwhelming need to collapse in his arms and beg him to
do whatever he wished with her nearly consumed her.
    “It
would not make it so easy to touch you.” He drew back and she opened her eyes.
Their gazes connected as he slipped a hand