Page 51 of Christmas with Holly

“If that’s your best offer.”

Staring at him, Maggie saw the glint of laughter deep in his eyes. “You’re jerking my chain,” she said.

“No more than you’re jerking mine.”

“You don’t think I’ll go through with it, do you?”

“No,” he said gently, “I don’t.”

Maggie was too worked up to be able to sort through the entire tangle of emotions inside her. There was indignation, fear, alarm, even a touch of amusement…but none of that was responsible for the vibrant, shivery heat that had begun to pump through her entire body. The sensation collected in places that deepened her flush and made her awareness of him unbearable. She wanted him, right then, with a stomach-lifting, heart-pounding, dizzying need.

Maggie was dimly amazed that her voice was steady as she asked, “Where’s your bedroom?”

She had the satisfaction of seeing his eyes widen, the glint of amusement vanishing.

Mark led the way upstairs, glancing at her at intervals as if to make certain she was still with him. They went into his room, clean and sparely furnished, the walls painted a neutral color that was indistinguishable in the weak December daylight.

Before she could lose her nerve, Maggie stepped out of her shoes and stripped off her sweater and jeans. The cool air of the bedroom made her shiver as she stood there in her underwear. Mark approached her, and she lifted her head to see that he had taken off his sweater and T-shirt, his upper half bare and muscular and beautiful. His movements were careful, gentle, as if he was trying not to startle her. She could almost feel his gaze as it slid over her, coming to rest on her face.

“How beautiful you are,” he whispered, letting one hand caress her shoulder. It seemed he took forever to finish undressing her, kissing every new inch of skin that was revealed.

Finally she lay naked on the bed, reaching up for him blindly. He dragged off his jeans and took her against him, his skin fever-hot beneath her exploring hands. He kissed her, his mouth artfully searching, then demanding, and she opened to him, yielding everything.

New sensations unfolded, pleasure surging in response to the clever explorations of his mouth, his gentle hands, the heat nearly overcoming her.

Bracing his weight over her, Mark smoothed her hair back from her perspiring face. “Did you really think it could be less than this?” he asked gently.

Maggie stared up at him, shaken to the depths of her soul. For them there could be nothing less than love, nothing less than forever. The truth was there in the mutual velocity of their pulses, the shocks of desire that resonated between them. She couldn’t deny it any longer.

“Love me,” she whispered, needing him, longing to possess him at last.

“Always. Maggie, love…” He entered her, a hot pressure that filled her in an inexorable slide. He was so strong, inside her, over her. She felt the waves of pleasure rising higher, tipping back slightly, then forward again, higher, until she cried out in wonder. Her hands groped over his back, the sweat-slicked muscles bunching hard beneath her palms. He followed her, finding his own release in the sweet, strong harbor of her embrace.

Afterward they lay together in transcendent silence, their bodies pressed intimately close.

There were more questions that would be asked, answers that would have to be found. But for now all that could wait, while she lay steeped in a sense of newness and possibility. And hope.

Fourteen

Christmas Eve

Some of the wrapped presents had to be moved while Alex and Sam set up the electric train to circle around the Christmas tree. Holly crowed in delight, running around in her red flannel pajamas to follow the train’s progress. Renfield crept forward and watched suspiciously.

It had been agreed that Holly could open one present on Christmas Eve, and the rest would wait until the morning. Naturally she had chosen the largest box, which had turned out to be the train set. Another box, still neatly wrapped, contained a fairy house that Maggie had started for her, along with paint, bags of dried moss and flowers, a jar of glitter glue, and other materials for Holly to decorate it with.

Mark sat on the sofa next to Maggie, who was straightening a pile of Christmas books they had read aloud.

“It’s getting late,” Maggie murmured. “I should be going soon.” Her nerves prickled pleasantly as he leaned over to speak quietly into her ear.

“Spend the night here with me.”

Maggie smiled. “I thought there was a no-sleepover rule,” she whispered.

“Yes, but there’s an exception: A guest can sleep over if you’re going to marry her.”

She gave him an admonishing glance. “You’re being pushy again, Nolan.”

“Do you think so? Then you’re probably not going to like one of the presents I’m giving you tomorrow morning.”

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