by Anthology
She slapped her hand over his mouth. “Don’t make me add another way to kill you in my little book.”
He smiled against her fingertips, her very bare, cold fingertips, then slowly removed her hand and kissed the open palm. “Oh, I think you should. It amuses me greatly when you pretend you would rather kill me than kiss me, when we both know…” He leaned in so his mouth nearly brushed hers. “…you’ve been thinking about it for the past ten minutes. They say anticipation is the best part.”
“Oh, it is,” she said with fake sweetness. “For the kissing almost always falls flat.”
“Who the devil have you been kissing?”
“Frogs.” She smirked.
“Damn it.” He lifted her into his arms, she wrapped her legs around his waist; he steadied her against the icy wall as his mouth descended towards her warm neck. “I’m not a frog.”
“Then what, pray tell, are you?” She arched into his body. “A prince?”
He pulled back, his eyes searching hers. “I should think you’d know by now. I’m yours. I’ve always been yours.”
And then, he kissed her.
CHAPTER SIX
SARA SHOULD HAVE helped herself.
She should have slapped him in his perfect face.
She should have done a lot of things. Instead, she kissed him back, her hands giving his cravat a greedy tug as she jerked him forward until his masculine warmth crowded against her.
With a groan, he deepened the kiss, pressing his palms flat against hers, pining her against ice — his mouth was like fire, hot, aggressive, its tiny flames licking and swirling until she had no choice but to give in — to allow herself to be burned alive by his heat.
It seemed it was Jackson Mayford’s turn to set her on fire.
And it was so much better than she remembered.
He rocked his body against hers, greedily suckling her lower lip as he rained kisses down her neck, with one free hand keeping her steady while the other dipped into her bodice, the chill from his fingertips caused a sizzle of awareness to spread down her legs.
And then.
As luck would have it.
A throat, once again, cleared.
Jackson didn’t drop her this time, simply pulled back and barked out, “A little busy.” And kept kissing her! The arrogance! The… absolute… She answered him kiss for kiss, their mouths bruising under the desperate pleasure.
“Ahem.”
With a curse, Jack pulled back. “What?”
“What are your intentions?” Lucas Mayford, Earl of Ashbury did not sound pleased. Then again, he never sounded pleased when he caught Jack and Sara doing something they should not be doing.
But this was different.
Because as much as she wanted to run away for fear he would break her heart all over again…
She was on fire.
For him.
And if she would burn.
She would do it holding his hand.
By his side.
For as long as he’d allow it.
“Funny, I could have sworn I was just making my intentions known until I was rudely interrupted.” Jack smirked wickedly at his brother, earning a thunderous look and then the earl’s lips twitched into what looked to be a suppressed smile.
“Well then.” The earl nodded. “Best let you get on with it. I’ll distract Mother.”
“Thank God you’re in love and see reason,” Jack muttered.
“Yes well, it is Christmas.” Lucas smiled at Sara. “While kissing under mistletoe is encouraged with one’s soon-to-be-betrothed, I will be forced to put my foot down if I hear the creaky footsteps of this one sneaking into your bed chamber.”
“Damn it, I forgot about the third stair.” Jack snapped his fingers.
“And the seventh.” Sara nodded. “We mustn’t forget about the seventh.”
“The banister!” Jack said as though his brother did not even exist. “I believe we can manage it if we are very quiet.”
“I’m standing right here,” Lucas announced in a bored tone. “Good God, it’s as if the world’s worst hellions decided to join forces.” His face paled. “This may not be a good union.”
“It won’t be good.” Jack wrapped a possessive arm around Sara. “But it will be great.”
“God help us all,” Lucas swore then pointed an aggressive finger towards Jack, Sara took a step back, half expecting lightning to strike as the man made another threat. “I mean it, Jack, no sneaking around, we will discuss your intentions further after Christmas, the last thing we need is to give the Bright sisters a reason to turn on us again. And you, dear brother, have always been the tipping point. I rather like sleeping in a nice warm bed with—”
Sara scrunched up her nose while Lucas coughed into his hand.
“I’ll just be off then.” He nodded his head at both of them and marched in the direction of the house just as Sara slipped her hand into Jacksons, seeking its warmth, its familiarity.
“You know,” Jackson said once his brother was out of earshot. “I do believe it was a blind threat, like the one you give children with full knowledge that it floated into one ear and straight out the other waving goodbye on its way into forgetfulness.”
“I think you may have a point.” Sara warmed at the thought of spending the night with him, as they’d done in years past, only in years past, they’d been young. Even then it wasn’t to be done.
But they’d never really been the type of individuals to abide by any sort of rule.
“I find myself suddenly ready to retire.” Jack yawned behind his hand.
“The library,” Sara blurted before he left.” No squeaky stairs, they have a chaise, and a roaring fire, brandy…” Her voice trailed off as she lifted her one shoulder in a half shrug. “It would be a nice way to welcome Christmas.”
Jack’s eyes darkened. “I can think of many ways I’d like to welcome Christmas. They are all very vivid. Care for me to act one out?”
“Fifteen minutes.” She breathed out her answer. “Meet me there.”
“Yes.” He kissed her forcefully across the mouth before releasing her body. “Shall I bring the mistletoe?”
“What a silly question. Of course you bring the mistletoe.” She laughed. “We may need to use it as another excuse.”
“Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, my dear, but I highly doubt mistletoe will forgive the sin of nakedness. Still, to each his own, that’s what I always say.”
Warmth flooded Sara’s cheeks.
While Jack stared heatedly in her direction. “Better hurry. I’ve never been known for my patience.”
With a practiced curtsy, Sara lowered her eyes and then made her way back to the house, careful to use just the perfect amount of sway to her hips, knowing he would watch the entire way.
CHAPTER SEVEN
JACK STALKED AFTER HER like a hungry lion; he waited the allotted time, then made his way into the library and closed the door silently behind him.
The fire crackled in the hearth, spitting flames high into the chimney.
And Sara was standing in front of it, her fur shawl pooled at her slippered feet, leaving her in nothing but her white silk gown.
He took great pleasure in that very angle, the way the flames lit up the sides of her pale cheeks, her bow shaped pink lips, the way her blonde curls bounced near her jaw.
Damn it, she was beautiful.
How had he lasted three bloody years without that mouth on his? Without embracing that body?
Protecting that heart?
“I love you,” he announced boldly, taking a step towards her. “I loved you when I was six and you asked me to kiss you because you were afraid it would hurt.”
Sara hung her head, her long eyelashes kissing the tops of her cheeks.
“I loved you when you put sugar on my pillow for my birthday then ate every bite of cake in order to punish me for not saving you a birthday dance.”
Sara’s chest rose and fell with each announcement, h
er lips parted with a barely audible gasp.
Jack took another step, his gaze never wavering.
“I loved you three years ago, when I was finally brave enough to take you up on your offer and kiss you… I loved you then. I love you now,” he sighed. “I’ve loved you for an eternity, and it will take me twice as long, to earn you, but I’m willing to fight, willing to rage war, in order to say you’re mine. Say it, Sara, say you’ll be mine. For always.”
She was quiet.
His Sara? Quiet?
“Bloody hell.” He laughed nervously. “This is the part where you don’t leave the man hanging, but instead be quick about it before my useless heart thumps out of this pained chest and splatters itself all over your pretty feet.”
Sara’s lips quirked into a smile as she took a cautious step towards him and pressed her hand against his chest. “I paused a mere four seconds and look at you, already wide-eyed, panicked. Think you that I don’t return the same sentiments?”
“I would never presume to know a woman’s mind,” Jack said with a rasp in his voice, emotion threatened to bubble out of him again. If she kept touching him he might very well start weeping.
“Then I shall take it upon myself to clarify where I stand.”
Jack held his breath.
“You’re insufferable.”
Oh, this was going to end badly, wasn’t it?
“You are constantly weaseling your way into my affairs, you never listen, you think you know what’s best for everyone around you, and at times you can be cruel. You’re too intelligent for your own good, and sometimes it terrifies me to think God created such a creature and simply decided to let him loose upon society without thinking about the consequences.”
Jack’s lips twitched. She had him dead to rights on some of that. Well, most of it.
“But I love you. To a fault. And it is a fault, loving a man, who can so easily break the very heart he’s always held in the palm of his hand, but there it is.” Her lips trembled. “I am yours, I have never been anyone else’s, only yours…”
“Even when thinking of ways to murder me?”
“Even then.” She laughed. “I imagine I’ll be adding to that list for a very long time.”
“Lists are good for the soul, as long as we don’t act upon them.” His eyes narrowed. “Remember, my face is too pretty for the likes of violence.”
Sara wrapped her arms around his neck. “A little violence never hurt anybody.”
Jack let out a groan. “I’m going to seduce you now, as any good rake would, you’re welcome in advance, for the warning.”
“Thank you.”
“Such manners,” he teased. “I love you.”
“And I you.”
“Say it again.”
Sara brushed a kiss across his lips. “I love you, Jackson Mayford.”
“Damn it, I think my heart may have just flipped in my chest. Either that, or the stew was bad.” Jack grinned wickedly as he swept in for another kiss.
“Bad stew? Or an affliction of the heart?” Sara smacked him playfully in the chest. “Such romance, whatever am I to do?”
“I believe this is where I announce that I’m your cross to bear.”
“Lucky me.”
“Ah, I believe all the luck goes to me…” He grinned, tipping her chin up so he could bestow a kiss on her sweet lips. “And now, I must remove your clothes. It seems they have a tear.”
She frowned. “What? Where—?”
The sound of fabric ripping interrupted the hush in the room, and then part of her bodice fell to her waist as Jack held up a knife.
“Where the devil did you get a knife!” she gasped, holding the pieces of scraps in her fingertips.
“I’m a man,” he said, so matter of fact she could have laughed had she not been so shocked. “I was born with a knife in hand and the ability to shoot with my eyes closed.”
“Your mother must be so proud.”
“Do you know? I tell her that exact thing every day!”
“Jack.” Sara glanced down at her dress. “How am I supposed to make it back to my room naked?”
He shrugged, “You won’t. I’m sorry, I thought you understood my intentions. I’m seducing you. Compromising you. Making sure you don’t leave this room without being honor-bound to marry me. You may of course thank me as you see fit.”
“Impossible man!”
Jack winked, and then went to work slicing her stays. Her once beautiful silk dress cascaded to her feet in a waterfall of white, leaving her in nothing but her chemise and stockings.
“Hmm…” He frowned and slid his hands over her exposed arms then very carefully brought the knife near her shoulders and cut.
Her eyes closed as the last of the fabric fell to her waist, catching near her hips.
“My God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured reverently, taking her in his arms. “I believe, I will never go a single day without remembering this, the feel of your skin, the way you look at me… This is the way I always want you to look at me, even when I’m being an ass, please, never stop looking at me this way.”
Tears welled in Sara’s eyes as she reached for him.
“Never,” she whispered cupping his face. “I will never stop looking at you the way you deserve to be looked at — with complete and utter love and devotion.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
SARA HAD NEVER FELT more happy — or more vulnerable — in her life, and yet, secure all at once. It was Jack.
Jack.
Her nemesis.
Her friend.
Her soon-to-be husband.
Her lover.
And it made sense, that a man who had worn so many hats during their life together would put on yet another, one that would show the world who they were to each other and what they felt.
She leaned in for a kiss, just as they heard laughter down the hall. Panicked, she jerked back with wide eyes, while Jack muttered a curse, tugging her across the library and behind one of the shelves just as the doors burst open.
Hugh and Louisa stumbled into the room, laughter bubbling out of them both.
Louisa practically leapt into Hugh’s arms as their mouths collided in frenzied kisses.
Sara’s eyes widened just as Jack covered her eyes with his hand and shook his head. “Horrible influence,” he whispered.
She smacked his hand away and then looked down at her nakedness as if to say, oh really?
“Entirely different. I was ruining you. I am ruining you.” He paused. “And you still haven’t thanked me.”
“I’ll thank you plenty,” she whispered harshly. “Later tonight, when we don’t have an audience.”
“Doubt they’d even notice.” Jack’s eyebrows shot up and then his eyes narrowed. “Devil take me, didn’t know the man had it in him, with that angle and—”
“Let me see!” Sara tried peeking around the shelf but Jack blocked her view.
“It’s not for young eyes. Believe me.” He grinned wolfishly. “I think a later demonstration will have to do.”
“You’re—”
“Impossible, yes I know,” he sighed. “Well, it seems they’re just getting started, shall we sit?”
Sara sighed, “I would, but I have no dress!”
“Sit on me.” He smirked.
“You’d just love that wouldn’t you?”
“No?”
Rolling her eyes, she moved into his arms, he very quietly slid down the bookcase carrying her body with him. They landed with a small thud, Sara naked in his lap, nearly straddling him, completely improper, then again nothing about their situation was proper.
“This is ridiculous,” she hissed, “They’re stealing our moment!”
“We had a moment?”
She smacked him. “Be serious!”
“I’m always serious,” he said soberly. “After all, isn’t anticipation everything?” He kissed both her eyelids, and then kissed each cheek, finally brushing his lips across her mouth. “Damn, I
could lick your skin, and I mean that in a literal sense, you taste like heaven.”
Unable to help herself, she moaned.
Which only encouraged Jack further, as he slid his hands around her naked back and tugged her tighter against him — all of him. Too much of him, and, at the same time, not enough, not at all.
She moved closer as her body tightened with sensations she’d never experienced before.
He let out a curse, his hands imprinting themselves on her arms as he held her still. “Stop. Moving.”
“But—” She moved more. “It feels good. You feel good.”
“Bloody hell, you’ll be the death of me.” He captured her mouth in a heated kiss, his hands moving to her breasts as he sucked her lips harder and harder, his hands tangled in her hair, giving it a little tug as he assaulted her neck with his mouth.
“My, my, my, what have we here?” Came Hugh’s voice.
“Brothers,” Jack whispered, out of breath, against her neck. “I should have killed them both. At least left them at home.”
Louisa gasped. “Sara!”
Jack at least blocked part of her nakedness. “Erm, yes?”
“What do you think you’re doing?” Louisa demanded.
Sara shared a look with Jack. “What I’ve always done with Jack… breaking the rules… only this time, for good.”
“For good?” Hugh repeated. “Jack, she’s ruined!”
“Thank God for that.” Jack kissed her hungrily again. “Happy Christmas, future wife.”
Sara giggled. “Happy Christmas, Jack.”
CHAPTER NINE
One Year Later
JACK HAD SPENT YEARS lamenting the before, the afters… the because.
But today, on this Christmas, he was focusing on the now.
On Sara.
Because of Sara. He was going to be a father.
Because of Sara, he finally understood the true meaning of love and friendship.
Before Sara, he was nothing.
Before Sara, merely existing.
For Sara, he would climb mountains.
For Sara, he would be a man worthy of her affection.
“We must win,” Sara announced once she pulled her mittens over her fingers.”I hate losing.”
