by Olivia Drake
He gave Sarah a fierce and unfathomable look. She met his gaze squarely. Whatever unfinished business lay between them, they would settle. The prospect of being alone with the man she loved made her sway with giddiness. The moment they walked out of the drawing room, a brilliant bubble seemed to enclose them in the promise of joys to come.
Wreathed in dreamlike anticipation, she waited as he wrapped the cloak around her, clapped a fond hand on Bromley’s shoulder, and walked outside. Icy snowflakes pricked her face, yet the cold invigorated her. Damien slid his arm around her waist, as if he couldn’t bear to be separated from her.
He ushered her into a hansom cab at the curb, spoke briefly to the high-seated driver, then climbed in beside her. The small interior formed a private cocoon. The scent of leather and snow blended with his unique male essence. The carriage rocked and started down the street.
Their eyes met and married. Their bodies surged together. Against her breast, his heart thudded in harmony with hers like the mesmeric beating of drums. He brushed back her hood and cradled his cool hands around her neck. His thumbs traced the dainty line of her jaw. His brown eyes, alight with flecks of gold, seemed to absorb her into himself. “Saraswati,” he murmured. “How I’ve missed you.”
The pet name brought back radiant memories of making love beneath the hot Indian sun. On a sigh of joy, she twined her arms around his neck and lifted her mouth to his cold, snow-kissed lips. A delicious shiver passed through her, and the chill swiftly transformed into a searing flame. Abandoning herself to sensual pleasures long denied, she slipped her arms inside his greatcoat and relearned the hardness of muscles and the smooth, tapering strength of his chest. The bold familiarity of his caresses ringed her in enchantment.
“Oh, Damien,” she murmured against the pulse thrumming in his throat, “I never imagined I’d find you again. You’re the finest Christmas gift I could ever wish for.”
He drew back. Their breaths mingled in a tiny cloud, and the jolting of the carriage matched the tremor of excitement in her blood. Vulnerability blazed in his eyes. “Sweet Sarah,” he said on a husky note of yearning. “You do still want me, then?”
She tilted her head in surprise. “Of course. Why would you ever doubt my feelings?”
“I saw how close you and Reginald have grown. You’ve spent the past couple of months with him. If the two of you have come to an agreement...”
She couldn’t help a teasing smile. “We have, indeed.”
Beneath her fingers, his chest tensed. “And?”
“Dear me, I don’t quite know how to say this.”
“Dammit, Sarah, don’t torture me.”
She kissed his furrowed brow. “There’s no need to use foul language, darling. Reginald and I have agreed to be friends.”
Damien blew out a breath. “I’ll never be a gentleman like him,” he warned.
“Thank heaven,” she said, moving her lips to the faint black stubble on his cheek. “I prefer a scoundrel who’ll ravish me in an erotic shrine.”
Tenderness softened the hard curve of his mouth. He cocked a black eyebrow. “Suppose I’m not a scoundrel anymore? Suppose I decide to settle down and take a wife?”
Her heart melted into a puddle of yearning. “Did you have a particular woman in mind?”
“Since you ask...yes.” As he spoke, he rained kisses over her face. “She’s clever enough to write a book. She’s brave enough to trek through a country at war. She’s patient enough to forgive a man’s sins and make him see his own strengths. And in addition to the admirable qualities of her character, she has the body of a goddess.”
Sarah’s pulse beat in her throat. “I am vexed. Where will you find such a model of womanhood?”
“Right here, praise God.” Damien rubbed his thumbs over the tendrils of hair at her temples. He looked into her eyes, his own eyes dark with longing. His voice deepening to a gruff pitch, he murmured, “Sarah, will you be my wife?”
Her soul soared at the words she’d never thought to hear him speak. “Yes. Yes, I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Tears prickled her eyes. “Oh, Damien. You once said you were incapable of love.”
“You make me capable of anything. I had a lot of time to think during those dark hours when the fakir held me captive—”
“It’s a miracle you didn’t die in the fire,” she said in an outburst of emotion. “You faced down your worst fear to save me and Kit. I knew then now much honor and love you hid in your heart.”
“Because you taught me how to love.” A deep current of mingled adoration and desire flowed from him. “Sarah, my greatest wish is to have a family with you. I want our home to ring with laughter. I want us to have children together, brothers and sisters for Kit.”
Smiling, she settled his large palm over her belly. “Your wish will be granted sooner than you think.”
The clatter of hooves filled the cab. A wondering glint entered his gaze. “Do you mean...?”
“Yes. Our last time together, we created a baby. We’ll have a son or daughter come summer.”
His fiercely noble features gentled, and he looked at her with his heart in his eyes. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her palm. “Now you’ve given me the finest Christmas gift.”
“At last you’ll have the chance to see how close and happy a family can be.” The thought of his lonely childhood sobered her. “I was proud of how you stood up to your mother. You didn’t let her demons swallow you. You showed her what a fine, good man you are.”
“Now I can see she’s more to be pitied than feared. Thanks to you, I can visit my brother without feeling ashamed.” He kissed Sarah on the nose. “My lovely crusader. You stood at my side and gave me confidence.”
“Mm.” With a sultry sigh, she pressed herself to his lean body. Her fingers curved around the bulge in his trousers. “I hope I inspire more than confidence in you.”
He sucked in a breath. His hand enclosed hers, his scars smooth and firm as he gently shaped her fingers around him. “Sarah...Sarah...it’s been so long...”
She rubbed the length of him. “It’s always rather long,” she teased, her own loins alive with a sweet, unbearable ache.
“Imp.” He grinned even as his jaw flexed with the effort to retain control. “I’ll make you pay for vexing me so.”
“Will you?” she dared. “Do tell me how.”
“First, I’m going to take off all your clothes...” The cab swayed to a halt. He kissed her forehead. “Hold that thought.”
Reluctantly she banked the fires within herself. Damien helped her down to the curbstone in front of a town house built of honey-colored stone. Snowflakes drifted thickly from the gray sky. As he paid the driver, she stood huddled in her cloak and wrapped in the warmth of Damien’s love.
He took her hand and drew her up the marble steps to a door bright with brass fittings and adorned with a great Christmas wreath. Without knocking, he ushered her inside.
Candles in wall sconces lit an airy foyer. The scents of evergreen, beeswax, and gingerbread enriched the air. To one side stretched a drawing room decorated in warm blues and creams, and to the other, a library filled with comfortable chairs and shelves of books.
“Whose house is this?” she asked.
“Mine. I wanted to bring you to a real home.”
She looked at Damien with amazed awe. “How long have you been in London?”
He grinned. “Two days. Money and position can be assets. You convinced me of that.”
She took a long breath and released it. “I’m glad you’ve stopped running from your past.”
“The only place I want to run,” he said, scooping her into his arms, “is upstairs, to the master’s suite.”
His powerful muscles flexed around her. Sarah caught a dizzying glimpse of gilt-framed pictures and a rich mahogany balustrade. She clung to his neck and pressed her cheek to the firm strength of his chest. His quick footfalls echoed the eager beating of her heart. S
he felt as if she were floating on air, buoyed by magic.
At the head of the stairs, he shouldered open a door and carried her into a cozy chamber. A tiger-skin rug lay before the hearth, where a fire leaped merrily. Candlelight lent an intimate aura to the cane furniture and exotic wall hangings. Brass vases and ivory carvings abounded. Beside a tester bed draped in indigo silk, Damien let her down, her breasts sliding against his chest, her feet meeting the thick Kashmiri carpet.
“You’ve re-created India,” she breathed.
“Do you like it?”
She twirled. “It’s wonderful.”
“Stand still.” His arms came around her from behind. Without further ado, he unfastened her cloak and tossed it over a chair. Then he set to work on the pearl buttons down the back of her gown. “I much preferred you in a sari,” he grumbled. “All this trussing is hell on a hungry man.”
She laughed. “It’s hell on a famished woman, too.”
“Good God,” he muttered. “Now you’re cursing like me. I really have led you astray.”
“Mm,” she sighed as he kissed the nape of her neck. “Astray into the garden of paradise.”
He tugged off her gown, and his palms cupped her corseted breasts, his warmth seeping through the boned material. Her loins flooded with heat, and she burned with need for the man who had at last found the courage to open his scarred heart to her. Turning, she met his kiss with her own and then fumbled with the unfamiliar garb of a gentleman. Laughing, they took turns stripping each other of corset and jacket, chemise and waistcoat, underdrawers and trousers. At last he lay beside her on the bed, the silk cool to her fevered flesh.
With murmurs and sighs of delight, they rediscovered the joys of an idyll begun in the Himalayan hills. She touched his magnificent naked form, found the thin scar left by a mutineer’s knife, let her hands roam over skin bronzed by the Indian sun. He combed his fingers through tawny hair once dyed black, caressed features once hidden by a gossamer veil, let his hand slide over her abdomen, where their child thrived.
“Love me,” Damien whispered.
“Always,” Sarah murmured.
She opened herself to him with abandon. Passion brought them surging together, their bodies melding in perfect rhythm, their lips joining in a heartfelt kiss as they celebrated a love that had arisen from the ashes of a bloody mutiny, a love that had brought them halfway around the globe. The splendor burst upon them, raining them in perfect pleasure, blazing as bright as fire across the firmament.
As the sweet-sharp pulsebeats faded, Sarah relaxed. His body covered hers, and she felt their heartbeats slow. His mouth warm against her ear, he murmured, “Ananda...”
“Perfect bliss,” she translated. She moved sinuously beneath him. “My sentiments precisely.”
Damien propped himself on his elbow and smiled. “Damn. And to think I once believed you prudish.”
“I was.” She tracked her fingertips up his furred chest. “Until I met a rogue who forced me out of the trappings of a lady.”
A wicked twinkle gleamed in his eyes. “Ah, so you admit I corrupted you.”
“Opened my eyes is more to the point. You unveiled the passionate woman inside me. You showed me that love is more precious than girlish dreams and ladylike behavior.”
“And you taught me that my emotional armor was more prison than protection.” Damien laced their fingers, his scarred and long, hers smooth and dainty. “Now I can give you your dream, Sarah. A loving husband, a big family, a secure home.”
“I know you can.”
“Of course, if you don’t like this house, we’ll choose another.”
His desire to please touched her heart; his willingness to give up his own dreams washed her in tenderness. “But what about your work?” she asked. “What about the photographs you still need to take for our book?
“I can make do with what I have. I love you, Sarah. You’re a ray of sunshine in my life. Our happiness and our being together matter more to me than anything else.”
A joyous laugh bubbled from her. “Then make me happy. Let’s return to India. I want to travel with you, raise our children in exotic places, go on great adventures with the man I love.”
His dark features lit with yearning. “Are you sure you don’t need a proper home?”
Misty-eyed, she hugged him. “Oh, Damien. We can make a home anywhere so long as we’re together.”
Also by Olivia Drake
Unlikely Duchesses Series
The Duke I Once Knew
* * *
Cinderella Sisterhood Series
If the Slipper Fits
Stroke of Midnight
Abducted by a Prince
Bella and the Beast
His Wicked Wish
The Scandalous Flirt
* * *
An Heiress in London Series
Seducing the Heiress
Never Trust a Rogue
Scandal of the Year
* * *
Single Title Romance
Dream Spinner
Silver Splendor
* * *
Writing as Barbara Dawson Smith, reissues published as Olivia Drake
Fire on the Wind
Fire at Midnight
Never A Lady
A Glimpse of Heaven
Romancing the Rogue
Tempt Me Twice
With All My Heart
The Wedding Night
Countess Confidential
The Rogue Report
About the Author
Olivia Drake has experienced two different kinds of Christmases: the traditional white holiday of her native Michigan and the balmy Decembers of her present home in Houston, Texas, where she lives with her husband and two cats. Both of her daughters are now grown, but they come back whenever they crave a home-cooked meal!
Besides traveling and collecting antiques, Olivia enjoys researching 19th century England, a period which gave us many of our favorite Yuletide customs. Candle in the Snow takes place soon after the introduction of the Christmas tree in 1840 and Dickens’s A Christmas Carol in 1843.
A winner of both the Golden Heart Award and the coveted RITA Award, Olivia Drake has published over thirty historical romance novels, some under the name Barbara Dawson Smith. Olivia’s latest book from St. Martin’s Press is The Duke I Once Knew, a January 2019 release, and the first in her new “Unlikely Duchesses” series.
