Mistletoe Wishes
Page 45
Still her eyes devoured him. When she licked her lips with an appreciation both innocent and salacious, he groaned.
Her brazen gaze focused between his legs, where he was hard and ready for her. “We need to go somewhere warm. Soon.”
“Italy is warm.” After a week in Devon, they set sail on his yacht for three blissful months in the Mediterranean.
“I may never come home.”
The playful conversation soothed her skittishness, he was glad to see. “You’re making me blush,” he said sardonically, and with absolute truth. “Your turn.”
To his delight, she accepted the challenge with alacrity. With a grace that set his pulses stuttering, she hauled the pretty nightdress over her head and tossed it away.
She was prettier than the nightdress. Much prettier. For years, he’d pictured her naked body. But the sight of her made imagination a beggar.
Every drop of moisture dried from his mouth as all the blood in his body rushed to his loins. “I was wrong,” he whispered.
Serena was blushing beautifully. Her hands fluttered up to cover herself, before she forced them down to her sides. He appreciated the unspoken trust in the action. “About what?”
“I’m not the luckiest man in England.”
“You’re not?” The pudding-headed girl sounded uncertain again. Didn’t she know she was the most glorious sight in Creation?
“No.” His excitement mounting, he completed a leisurely inspection of the woman he loved. “I’m the luckiest man in the entire universe. There’s no question.”
Her smile conveyed such pleasure, he wanted to hug her. “Thank you.” She paused. “If that’s true, why on earth are you standing all the way over there?”
“I’m admiring the view.”
And what a view it was. Her slim, white body and high, perfect breasts. The sweet little belly above a nest of dark gold curls. Graceful legs, crossed decorously at the ankles. As if such a blatantly sensual creature could have any truck with decorum.
Her fingers clenched in the sheets, but still she didn’t cover herself. “You could take a closer look.”
He stepped forward and leaned one knee on the bed, looming over her. “You make me so happy,” he said, moved when she tilted her face up for his kiss.
More trust. He swore on everything he held sacred that he’d prove himself worthy.
He slid one arm around her waist, loving the sensation of his skin moving on hers, and tugged her up and into his body. With his other hand, he brushed the heavy fall of hair back from her unforgettable face. For over half his life, her image had been carved in his heart, but tonight he couldn’t resist studying her features as if he saw her for the first time.
“I think you should kiss me,” she said shakily.
“I’m taking my time,” he said, tantalizing her. And himself.
Soon he’d be unable to hold out against desire’s command. But for now he lingered, etching every minute detail in his memory.
He’d been so sure he’d live out his days in solitude and disappointment. Since he’d won Serena’s love, the universe had turned bright with hope.
“Giles,” she said with a hint of complaint, “stop tormenting me. I’ve been waiting too long.”
He grinned. “You know nothing about waiting.”
She shot him a frown. “Are you going to make this a competition?”
He laughed and kissed her quickly. “No. Because whatever happens now, I won in the end.”
“So did I.” A determined light entered her eyes, and she slid her hand behind his head. “Now I want to enjoy my victory.”
She stretched up to press her lips to his, and he relinquished all thought of delay. He let her draw him down until he lay over her, their bodies twining together in sublime harmony.
By the time he rolled to his side to catch a breath, he admitted that the gradual approach had served its purpose. Her response showed no hint of hesitation.
Giles rose on one elbow and set out to explore the glorious landscape of Serena’s body. Those heated, rushed, frustrating interludes that punctuated their engagement had taught him a lot about what she liked. Now he intended to uncover every last carnal secret.
He cupped one luscious breast and took the beaded peak into his mouth, sucking and nipping and flicking his tongue until she writhed against the sheets. Then he paid the other breast the same attention. She tasted sweeter than wine. Her musky scent made his head reel.
Still kissing her breast, he traced designs across the dip of her stomach, venturing lower with every incursion until he tangled in the soft curls that hid her sex. Her fingers kneaded his head in a silent plea to continue. He stroked her, relishing the heat and sumptuous wetness he discovered.
Serena bucked under his caresses and bowed up to nip his shoulder. The bite delivered a spike of arousal. He lifted his head and kissed her hard, as he explored her delicate folds, inch by satiny inch. When she parted her legs to encourage him, he made an incoherent sound of satisfaction. One gentle finger penetrated her, and she clenched in immediate welcome.
“Giles?” she murmured against his lips, and he heard her surprise at this unfamiliar caress.
“You’ll like it.”
With purposeful rhythm, he began to stroke her. Soon she was shaking, and her hands formed claws on his shoulders. “That’s…wicked.”
“It is indeed,” he said, testing her with two fingers.
She was so exquisitely tight. A liquid surge rewarded him when he touched her deep inside. His thumb glanced across the hidden pearl, and she shuddered and cried out, clinging to him.
He rose above her, resting his weight on his elbows. She curled her arms around his back and stared up with glittering interest. “I want you.”
He kissed her neck, tasting her racing pulse against his tongue. “I love you.”
He’d never spoken those words to anyone before Serena. Now he couldn’t say them enough. Every time he did, her expression softened in a way that made him feel like a hero. This time, it was no different.
With all the poignant tenderness in his heart, he kissed her again and shifted between her slender thighs. “Tilt your hips toward me,” he murmured. “And bend your knees.”
Serena had always been willful and outspoken. During today’s ceremony, he’d hidden a wry smile when she promised to obey him. But now she immediately cooperated, offering herself with a lavish readiness that made his heart cramp with love.
Giles edged into her, caught between the primitive masculine urge to possess and his overwhelming need to cherish. Control won out. Just.
She shifted to take him deeper. She was trembling, and a fine sheen of sweat made her skin shine. The clasp of her body was the most glorious sensation he’d ever known. Until he tightened his hips and thrust.
She gave a ragged gasp, and her nails scored his shoulders. The sting added piquancy to the rush of exultation.
***
What he did hurt. Serena bit her lip, and tears sprang to her eyes.
“My darling, forgive me,” Giles muttered, pressing his hot face into her bare shoulder.
“I do,” she whispered as a marvelous fullness seeped through her. She felt every breath he took, each beat of his heart.
For a long time, they lay joined and unmoving. He raised his head and kissed her with a tenderness that went a long way toward making her forget the already fading pain. Gradually her body adjusted, so when at last he shifted, she discovered a stirring pleasure.
As he pulled back, a sigh of wonder escaped her. “Do that again.”
“I will.” Laughter warmed his deep voice. “For the next fifty years at least.”
“I mean…” She moved and delighted in the extraordinary barrage of impressions. The friction of his body. His rasping breath. The rich scent of their arousal. The warmth rising between them.
“I know what you mean, my love,” he said, and to prove it, he began to push in and out with a steady power that made her blood surge as
powerfully as the tide. She thrilled to the way the muscles across his back tensed and released with every movement.
When he’d touched her so shockingly, so blissfully between the legs, she’d felt a strange, hot flutter in her belly. But that had been a mere echo of the intense response coiling inside her now. The sensation, elusive, unearthly, made her whimper.
When she tilted her hips to meet him, he made a guttural sound of approval. His eyes were blind with animal hunger, and a flush darkened his skin.
Still the spiral tightened. She could hardly bear it, but the idea of stopping was unthinkable. Gasping for air, she clenched hard around him every time he plunged into her.
The tension reached an unendurable pitch. Giles’s thrusts turned wild, desperate, insistent. For a breathless instant, she teetered on the edge of some new world.
Then lightning zapped through her, and she was flying into space. Through the clamoring ecstasy, she heard him groan. His body jerked against hers, as he surrendered himself into her keeping.
When he slumped down onto her, Serena still quivered after that glorious release. The way he crushed her trembling body into the mattress became part of the pleasure. What an extraordinary experience. She’d had no idea.
With a surge of loving gratitude, she turned her head and kissed one of those slashing cheekbones. “I love you, Giles.”
“I love you, Serena,” he said in a raw whisper. He tightened his hold and rolled to the side, taking her with him.
When he tucked her into his chest, she basked in the intimate warmth of his embrace. She might have slept. She didn’t know. But when she opened her eyes, she lay sprawled against Giles in perfect peace.
While she wanted to stay like this all night, all year, something must have alerted him that she was awake. He shifted up on the pillows, his hold relaxing. “You’re a miracle, my lovely Lady Hallam.”
She drew back far enough to see his face. He appeared younger, more carefree, and the loneliness was at last absent from his eyes. Then and there, she vowed that she’d never let him be lonely again. “I have no words.”
Amusement lit his expression. “That’s not like you.”
She stretched luxuriantly, delighting in the glide of her skin against his. “You’ve made me a new woman.”
“I hope not.” He kissed her briefly, but urgently. “I adored your old self.”
She was sure she looked smug. She couldn’t help it. “You’ll adore the new me, too.”
“Will I indeed?”
“Oh, yes. Because if you make me feel like this when I’m a beginner, imagine what a bit of practice will achieve.”
He tilted an eyebrow. “Is that so?”
She cast him a searching glance. “Please don’t tell me it was like that with all those London hussies.”
To her surprise, instead of taking up her teasing, he seemed uncomfortable. “Serena, it’s bad form to ask about a man’s romantic past.”
She frowned. “So it was romantic?”
“No,” he said shortly. Tension hardened the arm around her shoulders.
“Paul was always talking about how the ladies wouldn’t leave you alone.”
The mention of Paul struck a discordant note. At the wedding, her former suitor had felt like a mere acquaintance, although she admired his courage in turning up to wish Giles and her well. Everyone in the congregation knew he’d hoped to marry her. Her love for Giles had swiftly revealed how childish her penchant for Paul Garside had been.
Exasperation tightened Giles’s lips. “Paul has a big mouth.”
She leaned on one elbow, so she could study her husband. Something happened here that she didn’t understand. “Perhaps.”
“You’re not worried about those other women, are you?” Giles reached to twine one hand in the fall of her hair. “You must know by now that I’ve always been yours.”
She did know that. Except…
He looked appalled. “By God, you are worried. Silly widgeon. Nobody can compare to you. Nobody. Until the day I die, I’ll love you with every breath I take.”
His fervent declaration banished the demons of insecurity that had chosen this moment to return. But she wasn’t yet prepared to let this issue go. She touched his cheek, feeling the bristle of his beard under her fingers. “It’s not fair to ask you to justify your past to me—especially when I spent all those years pie-eyed over Paul.”
“Not fair, but I can see you’re dwelling on it. On a night when I want you to be supremely happy.” His smile turned sheepish. “Very well. I may as well confess all. But I warn you, my love, that you’re going to find my rakish past a letdown.”
Oh, dear. That didn’t sound good. “Because you were so profligate?”
“Anything but.” Self-derision edged his laugh. “I’m afraid my exploits have been wildly exaggerated.”
“No women at all?” Puzzled, she tried to interpret his expression. “I can’t believe that.”
He shrugged. “Oh, it’s true that I went a little mad when I first entered society. I knew you’d never have me, so what did it matter what I did? I soon realized that I was using those women as stand-ins for the woman I really wanted. Once the pleasure was done, it always had a nasty kick. I haven’t shared my bed in four years.”
“So the ladies didn’t pursue you?” She could hardly credit this. But meeting his grave stare, how could she doubt him?
He took her hand and raised it to his lips for a kiss that was a beckoning whisper of bliss to come. “I suspect my lack of interest was the main attraction.”
“So it really has always been me?” She knew by now that he’d loved her for years, but he was still capable of astounding her with the strength and steadfastness of his devotion.
“Always.”
“I’m not worthy.” A lump of emotion clogged her throat, so the words emerged as a husky murmur.
The sweetness in his kiss melted her bones. “Of course you are, my darling.”
“I know I haven’t loved you as long as you’ve loved me,” she said, more choked up after that potent kiss. “But I promise I’ll catch up to you.”
“Now, that, my beloved, is an offer I’ll gladly accept.” Giles drew her close and kissed her with a passion that promised a lifetime of love and happiness to come.
The Christmas Stranger
A Regency Novella
By
Anna Campbell
Copyright © 2017, 2018 by Anna Campbell
annacampbell.com
Cover art by Hang Le
E-book Formatting by Web Crafters
www.webcraftersdesign.com
Dedication:
To Anna Sugden, with grateful thanks for her help at the inception of The Christmas Stranger
The Christmas Stranger
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Epilogue
As the wayfarer traverses these isolated Yorkshire valleys, he is oftentimes struck by the lucky survival of diverse quaint fancies that the common folk persist in holding true. One charming legend from Fraedale in the High Pennines relates that a stranger’s arrival during Advent signals a year of great good fortune ahead. Strangers being something of a rarity in these wild and remote corners of the realm, the good luck isn’t as widespread as perhaps it might prove in gentler parts of the country. So a traveler at Christmas always receives a warm welcome, which given the generally inhospitable nature of the landscape, especially in the harsh winters, he may very well need.
Travels Through the Kingdom of Britain (1787) by the Rev. Dr. Hector Chudleigh Quayle, M.A., D.D. (Oxon)
Prologue
Jesus College, Oxford, 1st December 1821
As a highly respected expert on ancient Athenian politics, Dr. Thomas Black devoted the bulk of his time to reading.
However the letter holding his attention, as he sat at his desk amidst the dusty jumble of his college rooms, didn’t date from the 5th century BC, but from last Thursday. Which was a pity. He’d much prefer to peruse a document from a couple of thousand years ago.
What did he know of the modern world? And frankly, what did he care?
He sighed, not for the first time, and aimed a longing glance at the thick report that had arrived from Dr. Albert this morning. Albert was a lucky dog, excavating in Greece for the entire winter. How Dr. Black itched to learn more of his recent discoveries.
But nobody could say that Thomas Black was completely lost to his duty.
Besides, he still harbored a soft spot for Kitty Hale. Although he’d spent the last thirty years thanking his Maker that, when he and his best friend pursued the lovely Miss Katherine Summers during that long ago London season, she’d chosen Cedric instead of him. He really wasn’t cut out to be a husband.
Now Kitty wrote to embroil him in a family matter, wanting him to interfere in her son’s life. Although Dr. Black supposed that given the young man in question was his godson, she had some right to enlist his assistance.
His eye fell once more on the offending lines.
Thomas, I’m at my wits’ end, and I would dearly love your help if you’re able to give it.
Joss is doing well in his career—you’ve probably heard of his success as an architect. Everyone in society is clamoring for him to rebuild their old houses in the fashionable gothic style.
Thomas vaguely recalled Kitty’s letter last Christmas. There had been something in that about his godson making a splash in the world. Or at least he thought so. He always got the news about the children mixed up. With seven Hale offspring to sort out in his mind, a lot of Kitty’s tattle went over his head. He hadn’t seen any of the family in the last twenty years, although they always invited him to visit for the Festive Season.