Mismatched Under the Mistletoe

by Michaels, Jess

  “A bargain like this must be sealed with a kiss,” he said, and tugged her a little closer.

  Her breath came out in a tiny cloud of heat against the cold, but she didn’t pull away. Instead she lifted her lips toward his and gave a muffled sigh when he took them.

  His arms came around her, he memorized the feel of her there, soft and warm and his, at least for a little while. Hopefully long enough to show her that a future was possible. And he let her go before she pushed back.

  “I would do more of that,” he explained, “But I believe that breaks your ‘not outside my chamber’ rule.”

  Her eyes were wide and glazed. “I suppose it does.”

  “Shall we ride back?” he asked, motioning to their mounts. “And see how the geese have recovered?”

  She blinked. “Blimey, I forgot all about the geese.”

  He laughed as he took her back to the animals and helped her seat herself. As he swung up on Hank, he said, “Then I’ve done my job.”

  “You always do,” she said as they turned back toward the house and trotted on. “Thank you. Thank you for always being…you.”

  He smiled, and the rest of the ride he forced himself to talk to her about topics with less emotional charge. He had won a battle today, though certainly not the war. But he’d seen a path to the conclusion he wished for.

  And taking the route through passion certainly wasn’t the worst way to convince a lady to fall in love.

  Chapter 9

  The final hours of the year were held in traditional fashion, gathered in Emily’s parlor, the guests telling stories of the months past, making shadow puppets on the wall and doing shadow portraits of each other. And in any normal circumstances, she would have considered it a success after the morning’s terrible start. No one had even mentioned the lack of geese a-laying and had only cooed and complimented her on her goose egg embroidery that now decorated the room.

  Cav’s idea, of course. And he’d been the first to point out the pieces and make a great fanfare about how they were the perfect celebration for the geese a-laying. He always knew how to come to her rescue, though. He had been doing it for a very long time. Even before Andrew’s death, Cav had been her friend and her protector.

  And now he wanted to be…more. Or at least, something different. Her lover, if only temporarily. She shivered at the thought and tracked him as he crossed the room to refill his glass with his favorite red wine. She always made sure she had bottles upon bottles of it on hand for his visits.

  He glanced at her, and when he found her staring, he gave her a little look. A rather heavy glance that spoke volumes without him having to say a word.

  You’re breaking your own rules, Emily. She could practically hear him saying that right against her ear as his big hands slid along her arms. That phantom voice wasn’t wrong, either. She had been the one to declare they ought not moon over each other in public, and yet she couldn’t take her eyes off him.

  He, on the other hand, seemed to have no trouble sticking to the boundaries she had staked out for herself. Aside from his pointed glance in her direction, he had hardly acknowledged her beyond what was needed for polite discourse since their return from their ride.

  Why that annoyed her when it was exactly what she wanted—no, needed—was a question, indeed.

  “That gown is stunning, Lady Rutledge.”

  Emily jolted, for she’d been so wrapped up in her musings over Cav she hadn’t even noticed that Prudence Mulberry had slipped up beside her.

  “Thank you.” She glanced down at the dress. It was a dark pink silk with a lace overlay and beaded sleeves and a beaded floral pattern along the hem. “It is one of my favorites.”

  She wrinkled her brow as she said it, because she realized Cav had said that exact thing, that the dress was his favorite, the last time she wore it. That had been a month ago in London when she had come to have supper with him and a few other friends.

  She cleared her throat. “Are you enjoying the party, Lady Prudence?”

  Prudence tilted her head. “How did you know it was me and not my sister?”

  Emily smiled. “I made note of the rings you and Lady Honoria wear. You wear yours on your right hand, she on her left.”

  Prudence blinked. “There are few who make such an effort to determine our identity. It is much appreciated.”

  Emily patted her hand. The twins had been removing themselves from so many activities, it was nice to connect to at least one of them.

  “To answer your question,” Prudence continued, this time with a little more friendliness to her tone. “I am enjoying the party. My sister and I are a quiet sort, I know. I would much rather be reading or sewing than doing such lively activities. But I suppose one must get used to such things. Our mother would very much like to see us wed, I think.”

  They both glanced across the room to where Lady Mulberry was standing with Cav and a few of the other gentlemen. There was no denying the look of the hunt in her sharp eyes. Prudence flinched.

  “Well, perhaps you’re on your way with this gathering,” Emily said gently. “There are a few days left still. Is there no gentleman who has caught your eye?”

  Prudence glanced again at where her mother stood. Lord Weatherall and Adrian Powell were the other men standing alongside Cav. Emily twisted her mouth. She’d seated Prudence next to Mr. Powell at a luncheon earlier in the week and she hadn’t seemed particularly interested. But Allington was a possibility. She’d matched him with Honoria, not Prudence, with no success.

  “Mr. Cavendish is a very handsome sort,” Prudence said.

  Emily blinked a few times. What an odd sensation rushed through her with those benign words. Like Prudence had shoved her under water and now everything sounded far away and tinny.

  “Mr. Cavendish,” she repeated. “Yes, he certainly is that.”

  She was struggling for something else to say, for some way to control the unexpected negative emotions that bubbled up in her at the idea that Prudence Mulberry would look at Cav and see a future. Jealousy. That’s what it felt like even though that couldn’t be right. She and Cav were friends, she wanted him to be happy. The fact that they’d become lovers couldn’t have possibly changed that.

  She was lucky that before she had to find the answers, Cringle appeared in the parlor door and rang a small bell. She nodded at him.

  “It seems it is almost time to welcome the new year!” she proclaimed with an apologetic smile for Prudence as she stepped away. “Let us make a circle and I will prepare to open the window to let the old out and the new in!”

  The crowd was playful, laughing as they joined hands in a circle in the middle of the large room. They watched the clock on the mantel together as the seconds ticked down. When only ten remained, they began the countdown.

  “Ten, nine, eight, seven, six…” She counted along with the group and found Cav in the crowd. He might have now been holding hands with Prudence Mulberry and her mother, but he was watching Emily. She flushed as she put her hand on the sash to open the window. “…three, two, one!”

  She threw open the window, and a blast of cold spun into the room as the group began to sing “Auld Lang Syne” together. She sang along, feeling every word about this song about the importance of friendship. But when Cav smiled at her, it wasn’t friendship she felt curling her toes in her slippers. It was desire.

  She pushed it away and finished the song, then swiftly shut the window and hustled to the fire to warm her hands there as the party toasted and went back to their games and drinks and conversations.

  She sighed as she watched the flames and tried to ignore Cav’s presence at her back. At last 1813 had come to an end. And 1814 had begun. A new year with new possibilities. And for the first time since Andrew’s death she found herself excited to see what a new year would hold for her.

  * * *

  Cav walked through the darkened halls toward his bedchamber. The party had broken up late, after three, and the rest had gone to
their beds. He had stayed up a few moments longer, finishing his whisky and staring out at the clear, cold, starry sky.

  A new year was always an exciting time. But this one thrilled and terrified him more than most. After all, he’d begun something new with Emily. He knew, just as she feared, that it would change everything between them. Watching her tonight in that gorgeous dark pink gown, smiling and laughing with her guests, bright and alive and beautiful…all the love had swelled in him, a prison and a gateway all at once.

  If only it were returned.

  He sighed as he reached his room and pushed open the door. It was so late, he hated to wake his valet, so he walked to the fire and tossed a log onto the flames to lift the light so he could undress. As he did so, he heard the sound of a throat being cleared from the direction of his bed.

  He turned slowly and found Emily sitting on the bench at the foot of the bed. She was watching him and as he moved toward her, she staggered to her feet.

  “Cav—” she began. She cut herself off and dug into her pocket. What she retrieved was a sprig of mistletoe. With a nervous smile, she lifted it over her head. “I thought we might—”

  He caught her words with his lips.

  As the mistletoe fluttered to the floor behind him, she wrapped her arms around his neck, lifting into his chest with a muffled moan that seemed to wend into his bloodstream and go straight into his cock.

  She pulled her mouth from his just a fraction, just a breath and whispered, “Happy New Year.”

  He smiled, drinking in the sight of her in the firelight. “Happy New Year.”

  Then he dipped his mouth and kissed her again as his fingers found the back of her gown. They were quiet except for the sounds of their mouths meeting as he unfastened her, careful with the pretty dress as he lowered it down her arms, her hips. He gathered it up as it pooled around her feet and stepped away just long enough to drape it over the back of a chair.

  She laughed as he returned to her, but the laughter faded as he let his gaze slide over her. Her underthings were pink like the dress. The fabric was so delicate it was almost sheer, and he saw the shadow of her hard nipples, the triangle of her pubic hair beneath the satin. He reached for her, cupping her hips, letting his fingers slide with just the thin layer between them as she reached back to grip the edge of his bed for purchase.

  “Cav,” she whispered. It was a plea. It was a demand.

  He tugged her flush against him and lifted her up on the high bed, stepping between her legs. She was no longer shorter than he was now that she sat up on the edge. Their mouths were even and he took advantage, kissing her as he pulled the strap of her chemise down to her elbow. The fabric dropped forward and he groaned his approval as he looked down at the beautiful breast he had just revealed.

  He bent his head, swirling his tongue around impossibly soft flesh, tugging her hard nipple between his teeth as she threw her head back with a cry.

  He sucked harder, harder, loving how her hips lifted against his, grinding to find the release he would give. The fact that she was eager as he was made his heart sing and his body throb.

  He pulled the other strap down and dragged his mouth across her chest. She dug her fingers into his hair, demanding pleasure as her nails raked his scalp. He acquiesced, laving her opposite nipple with as much focus as he had the first.

  Her chemise drooped around her waist, and she lifted her backside so he could pull it free. He tossed it over his shoulder and stepped back. Great God, but this woman. She was so intensely beautiful with her full curves and blonde hair half fallen from the pretty style she’d worn earlier in the evening. Her lips were pink from kissing. He wanted to make her entire body that same color from his tongue and stubble and hands. He wanted to taste every inch of her.

  She pushed herself back on the bed and lounged on his pillows as she watched him through a hooded gaze. “Undress, Cavendish. I want to see you.”

  Cav had read the term knees went weak in many a book he’d shared with Emily over the years. She loved a romantic tale, after all, and he indulged her and enjoyed those stories as much as she did. But he’d never experienced the sensation until this very moment. She gave that calm, almost casual order, and his knees trembled.

  “Yes, my lady. At your service,” he said with a small salute before he shrugged out of his jacket and then unwound his cravat slowly.

  When he tugged his shirt over his head, all her pretense of being bored and unaffected went away. She sat up on her elbows and reached for him. He moved closer and hissed out a breath as her fingers dragged down his chest.

  She lifted her gaze to him. “You like when I touch you.”

  “Very much,” he agreed.

  She leaned closer, pushing up on her knees and pressed her lips to the wings of his collarbone. Her tongue traced there, then she dragged lower, over his pectoral, across to the other, teasing him like he had teased her. The reaction was the same. He grunted her name, trying to remember anything else in the world beyond the pleasure of her touch. If he only focused on that, he might spend before he buried himself in her, and that wasn’t the way to start a new year.

  He unfastened his fall front as she licked his chest, dragged her mouth down his abdomen. Her eyes widened as he freed his cock and pushed his trousers away. She caught his length and stroked him, her face tantalizingly close. Then she looked up at him with a wickedness he’d never seen in her before.

  “Could I make you lose control, Cav?” she whispered. “Do I have that power?”

  He nodded slowly, for there was no denying the truth. “You do.”

  She bent her head and nuzzled his cock with her cheek. He jolted at the spike of pleasure that drove upward into his balls, edging to the point of pain, to the place where his vision blurred. He fought for purchase, tried to remember how to speak so he could say her name, but before he could, she darted out her tongue and traced the head of him.

  “Fuck,” he grunted, hating himself for exposing her to such bawdy language but unable to keep the curse from escaping his lips.

  She chuckled as she sucked him between her lips, and the vibration made him push even farther into the wet, hot cavern of her mouth. She took him without resistance, without hesitation, swirling her tongue around him once, twice. She stroked him, taking him deeper with every thrust.

  Some ladies didn’t like this act. But she seemed to revel in it. She glanced up at him as she pleasured him, watching his face, her blue eyes glittering in the firelight as she drove him toward the edge of reason.

  He didn’t want to fall over that edge before he dragged her with him. And it was only because of that thought that he managed to pull from her lips. He tumbled her backward across the bed. He caught her calves, dragging her to the edge of the mattress, and then he dropped his mouth to her sex, tormenting her as she had tormented him.

  She tasted so sweet. So perfect. He never wanted any flavor but hers on his lips until the day he drew his last breath. He licked and sucked and felt her quicken beneath him as she moaned and whispered his name and ground up against him in a torrent of unleashed desire that overwhelmed him and made him hope.

  He ignored the hope. It was too dangerous now. He dove into the desire instead. The pleasure of feeling the waves of her release begin against his tongue. She lifted into him with a cry and he drew her through it, feeling the ripples against his tongue as she thrashed. And just as the waves subsided, he pushed her legs wider, stood to his full height and slid his cock into her to the hilt.

  She gasped and the ripples of her release increased. She milked him as he thrust, devouring her mouth as he had devoured her sex. All the mattered in that moment was the joining of their bodies, the mingling of their sweat, the way she dug her nails into his shoulders as she came in a gasping, gripping crescendo.

  It was too much for him. It was everything. He shut his eyes, focusing only on the feel of her around him, the tightening of his balls as he neared release.

  When it overtook him, he wit
hdrew from her, sucking her tongue so he wouldn’t declare his love for her as he came between them and then collapsed over her.

  He waited for her to speak. Emily always had something to say. But she didn’t. She just curled herself into him, letting him wrap his arms around her as she settled her head into his shoulder.

  “Don’t let me stay too long,” she whispered into his neck.

  He nodded. “I’ll stay awake,” he promised.

  And he meant it. There would be no way he’d sleep now as he held her, a fantasy come true. He didn’t want to sleep. This was the dream and he was living it. He would take it as long as he could.

  So as she drifted off to sleep, her hand fisted against his heart, he pressed a kiss to her temple and reveled in this moment. He could only hope there would be more of them. And that this new year would mean a new beginning for them together.

  Chapter 10

  Seven Swans A-Swimming

  Emily stood on the bridge overlooking the lake and smiled at her party in the distance. They were ice skating today, gliding over the frozen waters and occasionally startling the swans that represented their seventh day of Christmas.

  It was the perfect moment, something out of a painting. And yet she did not feel at ease. Cav had woken her just before dawn from a sleep better than any she’d had since Andrew’s death. He’d made love to her slowly and gently and then sent her on her way. She’d paced her room the rest of the morning, reliving every touch, every moment they’d shared.

  And hating herself for wanting more and more and more of those moments. She glanced down. Her gloves were so fitted, she could see the circle of her ring beneath the leather.

  She flinched and brushed the raised ridge with her thumb as she found Cav in the crowd. His greatcoat flapped around his toned calves as he managed an awkward spin that made the rest of the group clap and whoop with support. He was smiling, and she found herself doing the same.