Page 31 of A Mountain Man Christmas

His words made her heart beat faster. A smile tugged at her lips. “I suppose what I’m trying to say is that I feel lucky to have met you. You’re the only reason I’m still alive. There’s a part of me that finds it hard to believe you tried to kill me the other night.”

He laid a hand on her arm, and her breathing quickened as his warmth settled gently into her body.

“We…” She struggled to find words. “We’ll have to come up with a solution to your curse. But I’m happy you’re getting help. It’s a good thing your sister agreed to take us in.”

He was silent for a moment. Then he said, “I feel lucky to have met you, too, Lyla. You’re not at all bad to look at.”

“You’re not such a terrible sight, either,” she replied with a chuckle.

Looking back on it, it was hard to believe she’d ever mistaken this man for Theophilus Hill. Okay, it was not that hard, but when she first laid eyes on him and struck him with that stick—which had been pretty epic, now that she thought about it—she hadn’t figured things would turn out with them sharing anything more than a loathing for each other or that the feeling of him lying with his body pressed against hers would leave her feelingso restless. It was taking every fiber of her willpower to keep from twisting and turning on the small rug.

“I should try to get some sleep,” she told him.

She did try to sleep, but closing her eyes and counting sheep just wasn’t enough, not with Tristan’s breath on her neck, not with his hand still on her shoulder. After what felt like hours, she gave up trying. She turned to face Tristan.

He was still wide awake, his eyes open and focused on her.

They lay facing each other, nose to nose, her labored breaths mingling with his. In the dim firelight, his eyes flickered with desire, then uncertainty. His lips parted at the same time hers did. Her breasts were crushed against his solid chest, heaving with each breath. Lyla wondered if he could feel her heart thudding inside her ribcage.

“Tristan?” she said weakly.

“Lyla?” came the whispered reply.

“I…I can’t sleep.”

“Me, neither.” The uncertainty had vanished from his eyes, replaced by firm resolve as he inched his mouth toward hers.

Before Lyla could utter another world, his lips crashed over hers, and what was left of her willpower shattered.

***

Tristan knew there was no coming back once he’d crossed the line.

He also didn’t care.

His mouth crushed against hers, his lips parting hers in a kiss that was equally hot and deep and wet. To his excitement, Lyla responded just as fervently, moaning and sighing into the kiss. He let his hand roam then, caressing her smooth skin before settling on her breast, plucking at the distended nipple so that she moaned again into the kiss and went almost pliant against him.

Between the sweet taste of her lips and the feel of her soft body against his, he could feel himself hardening. And she did, too, shifting her hips against his erection in a torturous rhythm that drove him wild with desire. A growl rose in his throat, and their kiss grew deeper.

Hungrier.

It was a hunger he’d ignored since the day he’d met her. A hunger he could no longer put aside. He wanted this woman, and he wanted her right here, right now. Thank goodness for stone walls. He doubted anyone could hear much from outside this room. It was the most privacy they’d had in a while.

Lust and need and raw hunger collided inside him, clawing at his chest, and he broke the kiss, bringing his lips to her jawline. He paused to brush her curls aside and planted a kiss on her collarbone. She shivered against him, curling and uncurling her fingers on his chest. Her hand traveled lower, settling at his groin, and she gripped his pulsating erection.

“Tristan…” she breathed.

He kissed her collarbone through her top. “Lyla?”

“I…” She drew a breath. “I…”

“Are you uncomfortable?” He froze all of a sudden. “Worried about…the curse?”

He held his breath as he waited for her answer.

She shook her head. “I trust you.”

No three other words could have sounded so musical to his ears. He brought his lips back to hers, kissing her long and hard and deep. He turned so that he was on top of her, his hands lifting her top off, baring her breasts to him. In the dim firelight, they were aglow, rock-hard tips pointing tantalizingly up at him.

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