Mistletoe Wishes

by Anna Campbell

  “She likes you, too,” Serena said, lining up for a quadrille. She wondered why she didn’t wish it was a waltz. Whirling around the room, clasped tight in Paul’s arms, had always been her definition of bliss.

  Until she’d kissed Giles…

  “I hope the whole family likes me.” Taking her hand to walk up the line, he sent her a meaningful look. “Including you.”

  “You know we all like you,” she said lightly, wondering why she wasn’t in alt to be his partner.

  This Christmas, she spent a cursed lot of time wondering, and she didn’t enjoy it one bit.

  “But do you like me in particular?” His tone indicated that there could only be one answer to that question.

  “Stop fishing for compliments, Paul.”

  She carried away the memory of his astonished expression, as they peeled apart and worked their way down the line of dancers. By the time they came back to one another, she’d had time to feel ashamed of her grumpiness—and to note that Giles was still talking to Letty Duggan.

  “I’m sorry.” She strove to come up with a reason for her sharpness. Apart from the fact that she’d obviously lost her mind.

  “Don’t apologize.” Paul smiled with the effortless charm so essential to him. “I deserved a set-down. This is neither the time nor place for the discussion I want to have.”

  Oh, dear. His graciousness made her feel small and mean. As small and mean as she felt for wanting to rip every rich red hair from Letty’s lovely head.

  “Let’s just enjoy the evening.” She hoped Paul didn’t hear the desperate note underlying her suggestion.

  “Excellent plan,” he said easily. “But did you hear what I said?”

  She tore her gaze from Giles, who appeared far too cheerful for a brooding loner, devil take him. “You apologized when you didn’t have to. I’m acting like a witch.”

  “Never.”

  “You’re too kind,” she said, with her first real smile since he’d joined her on the piano stool.

  Paul could be a little smug—a boy coddled by his late parents and generally lauded as a paragon of looks and behavior would hardly grow up to be anything else. But he had a good heart. He wasn’t spiteful, and he didn’t bear grudges. Even when her childish adoration had become an embarrassment to his adolescent self, he’d remained carelessly kind.

  His uncharacteristic seriousness persisted. “I have something important to say to you, Serena. I hope after Christmas, you’ll have time and attention to give me a hearing.”

  Her step faltered, and her stomach dropped about a mile. Not with excitement. “Paul…”

  She couldn’t mistake his meaning. After years of wanting Paul Garside to notice her, her prayers had been answered. She needed no snares and stratagems after all. Giles had been right. Her quarry was willing to come to her hand.

  And the thought made her feel sick.

  It was time to have a stern word with herself about constancy.

  Then she needed to fall on her knees to the Almighty and offer humble thanks for making all her dreams come true.

  But what on earth could she say now? Luckily, Paul’s unfailing self-confidence rescued her.

  “Cat got your tongue, Serena?” With a tender smile, he touched her cheek, despite the fact that they were surrounded with people. “That doesn’t often happen. I feel quite proud of myself.”

  “I…”

  Blast. She sounded a complete nitwit.

  His laugh conveyed the affection she’d never doubted. “As I said, this isn’t the right time. But wear a pretty dress on Boxing Day and don’t stray far from that impressive kissing bough. I have plans for it—and for you.”

  Before she could dredge up some response, it was their turn to separate again. Thank heaven for the dance’s complicated steps.

  The moment she left Paul’s side, Serena sucked in a deep breath, but nothing shifted the stubborn lump of dread lodged in her chest.

  Chapter 7

  Giles heard Serena’s quick step as he waited in the stable yard, holding the saddled horses. With the late winter sunrise, it was still dark, so the rendezvous held a delightfully clandestine air.

  “Giles, you’re ready for me.”

  For the life of him, he couldn’t tell whether she was pleased to see him or not, as she walked into the circle of light the lantern cast from above the stable doors. “It seemed unfair to disturb the grooms.”

  Although a groom had poked his head out from the rooms upstairs to check that nobody was stealing Sir George’s fine bloodstock at this unearthly hour. When he saw Giles, who had hung around the Talbot stables since boyhood, he’d grunted a greeting and shuffled back to bed.

  “Unfair, not to mention indiscreet.” They spoke in whispers, heightening the conspiratorial atmosphere. It was deathly cold, and their breath formed clouds before their mouths.

  “Well, yes.” This time he couldn’t mistake Serena’s sour tone. As he led her horse forward, he cast her a puzzled glance. His horse was well trained enough to stand waiting. “Would you rather we didn’t go?”

  She sighed. “I keep forgetting that you’re a rake, and intrigues like this are second nature to you.”

  He frowned. “You asked for my help because I’m a rake.”

  “That’s true. It’s unjust to criticize your worldliness when I’m taking advantage of it.”

  “Quite so.” He caught her around the waist, surprising a gasp out of her.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Good Lord, you’re skittish in the mornings.” Under his hands, she was as taut as a violin string. “I’m going to toss you up into the saddle. Or would you rather use the mounting block?” His voice lowered. “If you don’t want me to touch you, you’ve dragged me out of bed under false pretenses, which is dashed unsporting on such a cold morning.”

  She sidled away. “Shh.”

  “We’ve often ridden together. And our early start won’t be a secret, once the grooms see both horses are gone.”

  “I know.” In the flickering lamplight, her expression was difficult to read. “But we’ve never ridden alone. And we’ve never gone riding for the purpose of kisses.”

  Giles smiled. He liked the sound of that. He’d worried that her jumpiness meant she’d changed her mind. “They can’t read your thoughts, Serena.”

  “Which is a blessing,” she said fervently.

  Damn, that sounded even better.

  When she’d kissed him, he’d had a hard time remembering that she used him as a conduit to Paul. But last night in the library, he’d swear that her attention had belonged to him. At least for part of the time.

  Then she’d spent the rest of the night smiling at Garside as if the sun shone out of his arse.

  “So you want to do this?”

  “Yes,” she said. “Faint heart never won fair baronet.”

  Actually from what Giles had seen last night, Serena could stick Paul’s head over her mantelpiece as a trophy, he was so bloody won.

  “Then on we go.” Trying to sound as if he didn’t resent her devotion to Paul, he lifted her onto the black mare.

  He mounted his gray gelding, and they rode out of the yard together. She was a fine horsewoman, and the strengthening light allowed him to admire the fit of the forest green riding habit trimmed with black frogging.

  “In that get-up, you’re ready to launch a military campaign.”

  Beneath the curling brim of her stylish black hat with its jaunty green scarf, she looked fresh and lovely. The cold added an enchanting glow to her cheeks, and her eyes sparkled with excitement.

  Anticipation made his heart leap. Was she excited because she looked forward to his kisses?

  “Is there a compliment hidden somewhere there?”

  “You’re getting above yourself, Miss Talbot.”

  She laughed. “I’ll tell myself there was.”

  He took the path through the woods behind the house. He knew the Talbot estate better than he knew his own. It hadn�
�t taken him long to choose the location for the next installment in Serena’s sensual education.

  “I can guess where you’re taking me,” she said, over the crunch of hooves on the carpet of dead leaves.

  “I’m sure you can.”

  “I’m glad we’re not staying outside. It’s such a cold day.”

  The rising sun tinged the stark winter landscape with gold but little warmth. “Don’t worry, my pretty little miss.” The smile he gave her was full of exaggerated lust. “I’ll soon warm you up.”

  “Perhaps I’ll be the one to warm you up,” she retorted.

  As if one glance from her wasn’t enough to make him burn. This morning with kisses in the offing, his blood pumped with barely controlled impatience. But still he must play the game, for fear his urgency might terrify her into running away. “Reckless promises, Miss Talbot.”

  He couldn’t mistake the devilry in her eyes. “Not as reckless as I intend to be, my dear Lord Hallam.” She set her heels to her horse, and the mare broke into a canter.

  Giles gave a short laugh, as the heat inside him blazed high to defy the icy morning. He set off after Serena, and soon they were galloping through the trees. They were both breathless when she drew rein at a rustic Greek temple beside the silvery gray lake.

  She leaned down to pat her horse. “I guessed right?”

  “You did indeed. It will be more private than the church.”

  “Definitely in its favor.” She slid to the ground before he could dismount and help her. More was the pity. “You know, I almost had kittens when Paul tried the door.”

  “Kittens? That’s nothing. Mine were elephants and rhinos.” He jumped down and crossed to tie his horse to the railing beside the pretty little structure with its Corinthian columns and glass domed roof.

  “One would never guess.” Serena followed, leading her mare. “You handled him so cleverly.”

  Giles wasn’t so sure Paul believed his newfound interest in funerary monuments. “At least I kept you out of harm’s way.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You know, you’re a quick learner.” He turned to her. “If you kiss old Paul the way you kissed me, he’ll be putty in your hands. You can start choosing your bridesmaids.”

  Flicking her crop against her gloved palm, she studied him. “Are you trying to avoid another lesson?”

  No, he was trying to do the right thing. However belated. However halfhearted. “No. But I’m not sure Paul would see that all this is purely for his benefit.”

  Dear God, shut the hell up. He’d spent nearly twenty years, wanting to kiss Serena Talbot. Yesterday she’d taken him as close to heaven as he was likely to get. But he couldn’t bear to think she might regret what they did.

  “My conscience is clear.” She paused. “It would be different if Paul and I had reached an understanding. Then I’d be betraying a promise. But as things are, I’m as free to kiss you as Paul.”

  Giles frowned. There was some flaw in her reasoning. But every time she said the word “kiss,” she chipped away at his capacity for rational thought.

  “You’re thinking too much, Giles.” She took his gloved hand. “It’s a bad habit.”

  By God, it was. Here he was alone with Serena, and he wasted time worrying about his rival.

  He led her up the shallow steps into the temple. The building was open to the elements, and it was as cold inside as out. Perfect for a warm summer day. Perishing a few days before Christmas.

  She released his hand. “I’m willing to proceed with our lessons. Are you?”

  “I’m a man, my dear.” He swept off his hat and tossed it toward the stone bench encircling the octagonal room. He missed. Who cared? “I’m always ready to kiss a pretty girl.”

  “Does that include Letty?”

  He frowned. His brain really was slow today. “What in Hades has Miss Duggan to do with anything?”

  The winter dawn flooded the space with pallid light, revealing his beloved with breathtaking clarity. The pink in Serena’s cheeks deepened, as she took off her hat and set it and her crop on the black and white tiles. “You seemed to like her last night.”

  “She’s a nice girl, and a treat for the eye.” He frowned, still puzzled by the conversation’s turn, before he caught a flash of chagrin in Serena’s bright silver gaze.

  By God, she was jealous. Of Giles Farraday.

  Perhaps his case wasn’t as hopeless as he thought.

  Renewed optimism made him smile down at her with untrammeled delight. He’d chosen this devious course with the frail hope of diverting her interest in Paul. Jealousy was an encouraging sign. Very encouraging indeed.

  “Then perhaps you should kiss her instead,” Serena said sharply, putting the lie to her words by stripping off her gloves and tossing them down with visible vexation.

  Giles’s first impulse was to fling himself at her feet and declare that only one woman held his heart. But he hadn’t wasted his years in London, and he knew better than to discard the advantages this unexpected development brought. With a languor designed to taunt, he removed his own gloves and pushed them into his pocket. “She hasn’t asked for my kisses.”

  “I’m sure she will,” she sniped.

  “What a delightful prospect,” Giles drawled. “But something for future consideration. At present, you’re here, and Miss Duggan isn’t.”

  She didn’t look pleased. Which pleased him. Right now, Paul held no place in her thoughts. “You really are a rake.”

  He let his smile widen, become predatory, as he took her hand and drew her behind one of the square pillars framing the open doorway. Nowhere in the airy temple was private, but this provided some cover, and gave him a view of the clearing around the temple. Not that anyone was likely to intrude at this hour on a freezing morning.

  “Shall we begin?” He let her go.

  “I feel a little awkward.” She bit her lip in a way that made him want to kiss her until she forgot any nonsense about Letty Duggan. Hell, until she forgot the rest of the world. And she admitted the only man she wanted was Giles Farraday.

  “No need.” Maintaining his louche manner, he leaned back against the pillar and folded his arms. Yesterday a careless air had coaxed her into surrender. Would it work again today? “You did very well. For a beginner.”

  “Giles, must you tease?”

  Oh, no, she started to take his measure.

  “It establishes the right tone in the classroom.” When he set his hands on her waist, she didn’t jump. More progress. He fumbled in his pocket. “And I’ve brought the necessary equipment.”

  “Giles!” she gasped, looking shocked and intrigued at the same time. “For shame.”

  A low laugh escaped. “Serena, I’m shocked. A sweet young miss shouldn’t understand that joke.”

  She rolled her eyes. “As if I wouldn’t understand, after all those holidays with you and Paul and Frederick. For pity’s sake, you three spent every minute between the ages of eleven and sixteen sniggering—and drooling over the milkmaids.”

  “I’m sure we were charming.”

  She laughed. “I’m sure you weren’t. But you’ve all improved since, thank goodness.”

  “Well, that’s something.” He drew his hand from his pocket and opened it to reveal what lay on his palm. “And you mistake me. This is what I meant.”

  “Where did you get that?”

  “The kissing bough at the manor. I didn’t want to risk a refusal.”

  “As if I’d refuse.” She shot him an unimpressed glance. “I invited you, remember?”

  He lifted the mistletoe over her ruffled blond head and brushed a light kiss over her lips. The ride and the removal of her hat had made a delightful mess of this morning’s severe chignon. He loved to see her like this, sweet and ardent and disheveled.

  “Time to see what you remember from yesterday’s lessons.” He dropped the sprig and lashed his arms around her, drawing her up for a kiss that wasn’t light at all.

  Ch
apter 8

  Serena sank into the sultry darkness of Giles’s kiss. With an incoherent murmur of welcome, she opened to his heated exploration. The sweep of his tongue inside her mouth engulfed her in pleasure.

  And desire.

  Because today, she felt more than surprise and curiosity. Today she craved.

  Instinctively she sucked on his tongue, drawing him into her mouth. With a growl of approval, he bundled her closer to his powerful body.

  How had she missed what an impressive figure of a man Giles was? At Torver, he tended to allow Paul and Frederick to hold the limelight. But as her feverish hands stroked his shoulders and back, she couldn’t mistake the hard, vital muscle under her palms.

  How fascinating he turned out to be. The line of his jaw was hard and adamant, betraying a strength she’d never troubled to notice. His skin was smooth—she guessed he’d shaved before coming downstairs—but gave an intriguing hint of his beard.

  Sinful curiosity ate at her. What other marvels lay beneath his elegant dark blue coat and soft white shirt?

  When she twined her arms around his neck and her breasts met his chest, the sensation turned her knees to wet string. Yesterday’s kiss had been astonishing, a revelation. Today’s promised to change her forever. This heady delight was worth all the risk in the world.

  She flicked her tongue over his in a silent plea for more passion. Although a whisper at the back of her mind warned that she verged perilously close to folly.

  But folly was so warm and bright and beckoning. How could she say no?

  The kiss broke through into wildness. Giles’s touch turned demanding, and his lips plundered hers, giving no quarter to her innocence. She thrilled to every wanton, blazing caress. Dark temptation lured her to the edge of yielding everything, and she was helpless to resist.

  His hands touched her body, stroking her sides and her back, trailing sizzling heat down her hips. A forbidden moment when he cupped the curve of her backside. Then for an incandescent instant, his hand settled on her breast and squeezed. Excitement hot as a naked flame zigzagged through her.

  With a guttural groan that resonated in her bones, Giles wrenched his hands from her. “For God’s sake, Serena, forgive me.”