Page 94 of A Merry Mountain Christmas

He surprises me by leaning in and kissing me with cold lips, which instantly warm when they’re pressed to mine.

I’m struck with the knowledge that he’s still halfway out the window.

“Rowan, come in,” I say, fear twining around me. “I don’t want you to fall.”

“I thought maybe you’d want to come out, instead,” he says with shining eyes.

“Come out?” I ask in shock.

“I have something planned for us.”

My heart beats faster. He has something planned for us. He wants us to leave the house, together.I get to leave.

“What if we’re caught?” I ask haltingly, because even though Rowan is the boy who never followed the rules, the boy who never had any, I’ve never been like that. Yes, I balked myparents’ expectations by taking the job I wanted instead of becoming a socialite, but he’s talking about the sort of rule-breaking that might get us in trouble.

“Harry promised to create a distraction,” he tells me with a grin so radiant I feel it in my toes. This is no exaggeration, theycurl.

“I need to get changed,” I say, tugging on the collar of his coat. He climbs into the room with the practiced movements of a rulebreaker and sits in my chair, bending to pet Jester as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. The sight of them together gushes warmth through my chest, but I don’t say anything for a moment. I just soak it in. “What should I wear?” I ask.

“Nothing fancy, Princess,” he says. “This is Highland Hills, after all, and I want you to be comfortable.”

“But what if someone notices me?” I ask. My photo was released to the press earlier this week, so I can no longer expect to be fully anonymous. Rowan knows this, not because he saw the press release—I imagine he actively avoids such things—but because I told him the other night.

He snaps his fingers, then pulls a bag out of his jacket, handing it to me.

I look inside and see a red wig, a pair of eyeglasses, and some bright makeup that I would never normally wear.

“Where’d you get this?”

“Ivy,” he says. “She says she dresses up while she’s researching different fields for her writing. I’d rather not overthink it. I guess the glasses are non-prescription.”

“It’ll take me a minute,” I warn.

“It won’t feel like long if I’m in here petting Jester,” he tells me. “But I won’t be following you into the bathroom to keep you company. If I watch you change, I’m going to get ideas, and we have a schedule.”

“We do?” I ask with delight. Rowan’s not really a schedule kind of guy. He told me that’s why he prefers the work he does—it’s different every day.

“For you, we have a schedule,” he says, and I can’t help it, I lean in and kiss him, just once, but I make it count.

“There you go again, giving me ideas,” he says with a grin. “But I won’t be distracted. This is happening.”

“Well, all right, sir,” I say, and he groans.

“I think that’s the first time anyone’s ever called me that, and I like it more than I thought I would.”

I’m laughing as I make my way to the bathroom.

It’s fun, changing into someone else. I decide my name is Daphne. Nanny Rose used to play old cartoons for me when I was a kid, even though my mother insisted I should only be allowed to watch educational programs, andScooby Doowas my favorite. I look different. Ifeeldifferent.

When I come out to put on my shoes and grab my winter coat, Jester’s lying on his back in Rowan’s lap, and Rowan’s petting his tummy, saying, “You’re a good boy.” The feeling of love and abundance in my chest surges.

“You’rea good boy,” I tell him.

He smirks at me. “Huh. I didn’t know I had a praise kink.”

“And I don’t know what a praise kink is, but if it involves me telling you when you do good things, I’m all about it.” I smile. “Also, I should introduce myself. My name is Daphne, and my biggest personality flaw is that I prefer slow jazz to any other sound.”

He sets Jester down, watching me, and then says, “You look fucking hot, but you don’t look like you. I like it for tonight, but I like you as yourself best of all.”

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