Unwrapping a Rogue: A Christmas Regency Boxset

by Samantha Holt

  The notion gave Vic pause. An infiltrator could have easily slipped in among the workers the palace sent up to the Hall for the house party. “I’ll have to check with Harry. He went over the details with Kit.” He stood. “I’m off to spend the rest of the afternoon with Charlotte.”

  “I’ll mention the situation to Phipps. Maybe he can be of help on the matter.”

  This whole anti-monarchist movement was driving him and his brothers to the brink. But to date, they hadn’t found the person behind the organization or the man behind the rash of murders. Five peers killed in two years was devastating.

  Hopefully the threat to Charlotte was just an empty one.

  Chapter Six

  Victor paced along the gravel path in front of Frost Lake Hall, a basket of surprises gripped in his hand. He couldn’t wait for Charlie to see what he’d had planned for their first afternoon alone at the Hall.

  “What do you have there?” Charlotte asked as she pranced from the house, a deep blue cape the same hue as her eyes, draped over her shoulders. Her gaze lingered on the basket in his hand while a smile graced her face and a bounce invigorated her step.

  “Care to guess?” He loved seeing Charlie relaxed and happy. Hopefully, it meant her mind wasn’t on that damn threat.

  “I’d like to say you’ve brought the components of a picnic, but not in this weather.”

  He offered a howl of laughter. “You’re correct on that, though I doubt the two of us would freeze, regardless of the temperature.”

  She slipped her arm around his. “Are you being a rogue, again, my prince?”

  “Always.”

  She leaned her head on his shoulder as they walked down the drive, a hint of violet scenting the air. “Maybe we should have a picnic.”

  “Would you like that?”

  “What I’d like would be to get warm with you. We used to do that very well before I broke things off between us.”

  Indeed they had. “And you say I am the rogue.” He tsked.

  “So what is in this mystery basket of yours?”

  “You’ll see soon enough.” He liked teasing her.

  They headed around the house and down a shoveled path just wide enough for the two of them to walk with ease.

  Charlotte stopped midstride.

  “What’s wrong?” He stared at her, saw a hint of worry cross her eyes.

  “What if my attacker is here? What if he’s watching us now?”

  Damnit, but he was going to have to try harder at easing Charlotte’s mind. He’d never allow a single soul to lay a finger on her. “I truly think the possibility of that happening is slim. Leopold assures me he can vouch for each and everyone of his staff, and the others who were brought in to help for the weekend are straight from the palace. They have all been carefully selected.”

  “Then if it’s not a guest and not a servant, then who threatened me? Someone knew I was going to be here with you this weekend.”

  Agony filled his veins as he saw true fright veil Charlie’s fine features. “I promise you, I will not let anything happen to you. I’ll stay with you every minute—day and night. Even sleep outside your door.”

  “I don’t know if that would be appropriate.”

  “To hell with propriety, Charlie. Your safety is all I care about.”

  A faint smile crossed her lips.

  Instincts told him Charlotte was trying to be blasé over the situation for his sake, but he saw the fear that lingered in her eyes. And he didn’t like the notion one bit.

  He led her off the path and into the snow.

  “Now I see why you insisted I wear boots and not slippers for our outing.” She walked carefully over the uneven terrain. The crunch of her steps echoed in the silent air. “But I’m still not sure what you are up to.”

  “The basket will reveal all.” Vic set the woven container down on the frozen ground and flipped the lid up.

  Charlie dipped her head. “Scarves, carrots, buttons, bits of coal and a top hat?” She quirked a brow. “I don’t understand.”

  “We’re going to build a man of snow.”

  She giggled. “That’s child’s play.”

  He came up behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist. “Play is play, my lady. And why not be a child for an hour?” He really did want her to forget her troubles.

  “I like the idea. Truly. But I assure you, the thoughts drumming through my head are most definitely not those of a girl.”

  He sucked in a deep breath and brought his mouth to Charlotte’s ear. “You’re a dangerous tease, Charlie.”

  She turned around in his grasp. “I’m not teasing. I’ve missed you, Vic. All of you.”

  His heartbeat kicked up a notch, spiked the heat in his veins to the point he barely needed his black frock coat. In truth, he wanted to take it all off, the velvet green trousers, the damn cravat, the shirt and waistcoat. He wanted to scoop Charlie into his arms, march back to the Hall, and take her straight to his bed. But they stood a good chance of being caught at this hour, and the last thing he cared to do was spend the rest of the day in the presence of a lecturing Mr. and Mrs. Appleton. The advantages of a princely title only went so far. And they most definitely did not include compromising a reputable lady. Or in his personal view, any lady. “I think we should build our man of snow, then maybe I can arrange a picnic indoors. With complete privacy.”

  “I’d like that, my rogue.”

  Letting her go, he grinned. Never did he think he’d find someone as well suited for him as was Charlie.

  “Do you need any help with rolling the snow, my prince?”

  “No. Why would you even ask?”

  “You’re just standing there, while I’m already at work.”

  “Minx.” From the corner of his eye, he watched her get down on her knees, the silk of her primrose gown gathering around her legs like bright rays of sun. Even in the midst of winter, Charlotte was all warmth and heat. How she’d managed to knock all cold from his body, just by being her, was a mystery to him.

  In no time, Charlotte had rolled three large balls of snow and stacked them one on top of the other. “My lady of snow is near finished and you only have one third of your man assembled.” She laughed.

  “It is not funny.”

  “Quite the contrary, Your Royal Highness.”

  “But I am at a disadvantage.”

  “How so?” Charlotte scooted over to the basket and sorted through the items.

  “I’ve been distracted by a beguiling woman.”

  She giggled. “Perhaps she is a witch.”

  “No doubt, as she does possess an unearthly charm. One that bewitched me the very first moment I laid eyes on her.”

  She jerked her head up. “Are you serious about that?”

  Damn, but he hadn’t meant for truth to slip out. Maybe Charlie was indeed a witch. He lifted the second of the three balls of snow he’d rolled and stacked it on the first. “Yes. Though if you tell so much as a single word of that sentence to Harry, I’ll deny it with all my heart.”

  “Right.”

  He added the head to the stack. “What the bloody hell does that mean?”

  “It means, sir, that I doubt you would deny me.”

  God, but she knew him well. Too well.

  Charlotte left the basket and returned to her snow lady with an armful of trinkets. With the collection, she managed to set in two coal eyes, a carrot nose, a mouth made of red buttons and a neck tied with a pink wool scarf. She then removed a hair clip from her curls and fitted it on to the head of her frozen sculpture.

  “Why are you sticking a hair pin in your snow woman?”

  “Because my prince did not think to bring a proper lady’s head covering. All you have in the basket is one of your old top hats.”

  “It’s not old and it’s not mine.”

  “Then whose is it?”

  “Harry’s.”

  She gasped. “You are worse than a rogue. How could you do that to your brother?”
>
  “Trust me. He deserves it for ruining my trousers last night.”

  More giggles rose up from Charlotte’s throat and Vic had to admit, he loved the sound. He never wanted her to be anything but as carefree and as happy as she was now.

  If only he could take away her troubles all the time.

  Charlotte stood and brushed off her glove-covered hands. “I won.”

  “I wasn’t aware this was a competition.”

  “Everything with you is a competition.”

  “Really?”

  “Always.” Walking away, Charlotte returned to the cleared path. “In truth, I believe it’s a problem with you as it sometimes consumes you.”

  He hadn’t been aware his need to win was that visible to Charlie. “I have my reasons.”

  “I’m sure you do as we all have reasons why we do or act in our own peculiar ways.”

  Such faults were never what he’d seen in her.

  “I dislike riding,” she said.

  “You never told me that.”

  “You never asked. Plus, you never invited me to go riding with you, so you’d have no reason to know.”

  He stepped away from the pile of snow he’d put together. “What bothers you about horses?”

  “It’s not the animal itself, but the fear of losing control. There’s only so much a rider can do and then it’s part up to the horse, and up to the world around the horse. The list of possible hazards of riding is near endless.”

  “Do you fear being in a carriage?”

  She slipped her arms inside her cape and shivered. “No. Though I don’t know why.”

  “Maybe I can help you ease your dread of riding, one day.”

  “I’d like that as I don’t appreciate fearing such a natural thing. Both my parents ride, and they don’t understand my dislike of the sport. Though it bothers my mother more so than my father.”

  Victor turned back to stare at the results of his fun in the snow. “I agree that you’ve won. My man doesn’t even yet have a face.”

  “You should in the least put the hat on him. If you truly want to irk Harry.”

  “You are indeed a witch, Miss Appleton.” He plucked Harrison’s top hat from the basket, then stomped over to the man of snow and tamped the hat down good. “By the time Harry realizes what I’ve done, this poor hat will be a mess.”

  Vic left the two snow figures, grabbed his basket and stepped back onto the shoveled walkway.

  Charlotte smiled at him. “I’ve enjoyed this little outing. Thank you for arranging it.”

  He loved pleasing her. “I’m glad.”

  She reached for his hand and entwined her glove-covered fingers with his. “Though I do have one complaint.”

  “What is that?”

  “You didn’t attempt, not even once, to warm me up.”

  Victor set the basket down in a snowbank, then pulled Charlotte close. “Then I vow to fix my mistake.” He kissed her, just a slight brush of his lips against hers.

  “Not even close, my prince.”

  “You are aware that we’re outside, no?”

  Heat flushed Charlotte’s cheeks. “Yes.”

  Vic brought his lips once again to Charlie’s mouth, this time taking her harder.

  She parted for him, allowed his tongue to tease hers. She also reached up and wrapped her cape around the two of them, then drew his right hand to her breast.

  Vic pulled back, breaking their kiss. “How cold are you?”

  “Very. And I need a stern warming up.”

  “Stern?” That was a new one from Charlotte.

  “I’ve been very bad, Your Royal Highness. I’ve been frolicking in the snow with a prince without a chaperone. I’ve been an accomplice to his thievery of yet another prince’s belongings. And I believe I must also be punished for having aided said prince in his stealing of carrots and coal from the kitchen.”

  His cock twitched. “Do not tease.” Vic rested his forehead against Charlotte’s. “I’ve missed you these three months. Last night had me craving you like never before, and I won’t go through another night of that agony.”

  “I don’t wish you to.”

  Charlie shivered.

  In one fell swoop, Victor lifted his bewitching hellion and carried her back into Frost Lake Hall, only this time he used the little-known private entrance that had been built into the house for the sole purpose of the original owner escorting his mistress into the dwelling.

  Vic took the narrow stairs two at a time. At the third-floor landing, he pushed against a well-hidden wall panel that doubled as a door. Once he was certain the corridor stood clear, he dashed for the comfort and security of his assigned bedroom.

  A BURST OF FRESH PINE mingled with hints of sandalwood as Victor laid Charlotte on the bed, her back cushioned by the body-hugging mattress. “The door,” she mumbled between darts of his tongue teasing her mouth.

  “Right.” Vic pulled away, taking the heat of his muscular form with him.

  She craved the prince’s warmth but took full advantage of the moment to shrug out of her cape, her fingers quickly undoing the braided fastener at the collar.

  A low thud sliced the scented air as the door closed, the click of its lock following mere seconds behind.

  “We now have all the privacy needed.” Vic commented as he walked back toward the bed.

  Flickering flames crackled in the fireplace across the room.

  “Phipps manages this house quite well,” Charlotte said, scooting off the bed to fully remove her cape and slip out of her boots. “It’s always a chore to keep the fires going at Appleton House.”

  “Yes, he’s very good.”

  She glanced at the large hearth with its carved mantle covered in sprigs of evergreen. In a million years, she’d never have imagined spending time leading up to this Christmas in Victor’s bedroom. All thoughts of anything shared with Vic had fallen to nothing more than fancy dreams thanks to that damn threat made against her.

  A pop crackled in the fireplace. The glowing, dim light blanketed the space with a sensual feel. Even without their picnic, this evening was turning into a very romantic escapade.

  Charlotte reached for the hem of her gown and lifted the garment over her head. “We’ll have to hurry if the two us are to make it back downstairs by dinner.”

  “Is that your plan?” Vic divested himself of his coat, waistcoat and cravat, though the neckerchief wasn’t dropped to the floor as were the others, but rather tossed to the small chest next to the bed. He shucked out of his boots and hose.

  “Not by desire, but I doubt we can get away with missing dinner. Mother alone will be a beast to handle if we failed to show up.”

  Victor chuckled. “Good, God, but I wouldn’t care to have to go through such a thing.”

  “Trust me. You truly would not.” Charlotte scooted around to the other side of the bed. She went straight for the fall on Victor’s trousers and started undoing the two rows of buttons.

  He grabbed her hand, a slight laugh falling from his lips.

  “Am I doing something wrong? It has been three months.”

  “No. But...” He pulled her close. “I don’t think we need to rush that much. Dinner will be a tad later tonight than it was last night.”

  She leaned her head on his shoulder. “It’s not just mother that has me going so fast.”

  “Then what else?”

  “I want to be with you. Is that truly so bad?”

  He glided his hand down her bare back.

  Goosebumps popped up along her arms. “I’ve missed you, Victor. Missed you more than anything.”

  “And I’ve missed you, love. The same.”

  She lifted her head.

  Vic brushed his lips against her neck. He moved lower and nipped at her shoulder, his teeth grazing her flesh.

  “Oh...”

  “Just like I remembered you to be,” he whispered, the hard length of him pressed up against her, the fabric of his trousers the only barrier shielding
him. “You’re more than a minx.”

  She was, and proud to be so. “I’m your minx.”

  With a sweep of his arm, Victor lifted Charlotte and returned her to the bed. He then reached for the discarded cravat on the chest. “Trust me?”

  “Of course.”

  He tied the cloth around her head, blocking her sight. “My rogue is back, I believe.”

  “Yes. But this time, I fear he is about to be more sinful than ever.”

  She gasped.

  “I might be off slightly with my timing,” he said. “As Christmas has not yet arrived, but you do the story of the twelve days of gifts? Yes?”

  What was her prince up to? “From the children’s book?”

  “Yes, but I assure you there is nothing childish about my version.” His lips brushed her earlobe. “Here are my twelve gifts to you.”

  Oh, she should not be wanting this as much as she was. But there she had it, her irreputable soul sinking even farther down to Hell thanks to the dashing prince she first laid eyes on last Christmas.

  Victor circled his fingers around her right nipple. “One,” he said, bringing his thumb up to strum her peak.

  She moaned.

  Her nipple puckered.

  “Two.” He pinched the now taught bud, rolling it between his fingers until it grew fully hard.

  Charlotte bucked her hips forward.

  “Three.” Vic licked her aching tip. Then he lowered his mouth to completely take her, sucking her at first in a slow, sensual manner, then shifting to a hard, almost biting grip.

  She wrapped her hands around his head and held him at her breast. A second moan rose in her throat.

  “Four,” he said, between sucks. His left hand graced her left breast. He palmed her, commanding her left nipple to rise on the instant under his warm flesh.

  The unruly bud did his bidding.

  “Vic...”

  He pulled away from her right tip, but kept his left hand working her other breast.

  Warmth shot through Charlotte’s core. She spread her legs, untangled her fingers from Victor’s hair and immediately sought his trousers. She finished unbuttoning the fall and sprung him free. Wrapping her fingers around his hard, thick shaft, she said, “This counts for five.”