Page 34 of Tempt

But the present is entirely within my control.

I take a hard-fought deep breath and breathe in Sam’s now very familiar scent. “So I really ruined our third date, huh?”

“It was pretty rocky, yeah.” He kisses my temple. “Took me a decade to get a fourth one, and I needed an ice demon’s help.”

“You’re counting the train as our fourth date,” I whisper.

“From the second you introduced yourself as Aibhlin. You engaged me in a flirtatious role-play.”

“Your place is date five, breakfast is date six, and this trip is date seven.” I don’t know what to say next. “Sam…”

“Seven dates is plenty, Hazel.” My heart slams against my chest. I’d once imagined Sam saying something along those lines—one date is enough, Hazel—but not like this. Not this softly, or sweetly. Not this lovingly. “I will grant you a fair amount ofwho-knows-how-we’ll-end-updoubt over the first three dates, because they weren’t really dates, not in the proper way. I was young and stupid and lacked sufficient hubris to be your partner. But I knew on date four. I knew on the train that I wouldn’t want to say goodbye again.”

My chest is tight. My skin is tight. My mouth is dry.

But my heart. Oh, my heart. It’s so soft right now, so squishy. “What are you saying, Sam?”

His fingers wrap around mine, and his gaze stays locked on my face. “It turns out, I’ve missed you all these years. I’ve had quite the rocky ride, and I’m damn glad you weren’t around for that. I needed to go through all of that mess on my own and come out the other side of it a man who might just be worthy of you. I’m saying I want an eighth date. A ninth and a tenth, and then I want to just start seeing you all the time. I’ll come to Stratford. We can meet on the train. If you have any reason to come to the city—”

I cut him off with my mouth, with my hands tight around his. A squeeze. Adon’t-ever-let-gokind of grab, and he takes the hint. His arms wrap all the way around me now, sweeping me into an epic hug where I end up sprawled in his lap and it feels perfect. He’s warm and lovely, and beneath my bottom, he’s growing hard.

“Yes, I’ll go on at least three more dates with you,” I whisper against the skin on his neck.

Then I lick him.

Because seven dates were plenty for me, too.

10

Sam

I would have saidthat Christmas Eve peaked mid-afternoon, when Hazel and I confessed just how long we’ve wanted each other.

But then the day gets better, and better, and better.

It’s our last night in this winter wonderland. We’re checking out in the morning, heading back to the city.

Back to reality.

And maybe it’s because this is going to end that each moment feels sweeter than the last. Fucking magical, if I’m being honest.

When it comes to Hazel, to this gift of a holiday in the snow, I won’t risk anything but the truth. To myself, to her.

I’ve been a liar. A cheat. An asshole, a bastard, a fucking fool.

I won’t do that again.

We go snowshoeing until Hazel’s nose is pink and her eyes are bright, then we head back inside and dress for dinner. She wears a touchable white sweater shot through with silver sparkles that sways low across the tops of her breasts, showing the edge of a snug black tank top. It’s distractingly festive.

On the way to the dining room, I tell Hazel to head in ahead of me, because I need to hit the little boys’ room. But instead I dodge back to the lobby, to the gift shop we’ve looked in a few times, and buy her a necklace.

The seventh date is a perfectly acceptable point to start gifting jewellery.

She’d talked about buying a stone loon sculpture for her desk, so I choose a necklace from the same artist. A loon in flight, polished smooth, hanging on a thin gold chain.

“Can you wrap that for me?”

“Oui, monsieur, of course.” The clerk smiles. “A last-minute Christmas gift?”

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