Page 145 of Ten Lords for the Holidays

“Every day,” she whispered. “But mostly at Christmastide. She loved it so much. And I did, too. I still do, I think. But — it just hasn’t been the same without her. I haven’t felt like celebrating it since she passed.”

“But your birthday, surely that is cause for celebration?”

Holly shrugged, her eyes trained firmly on the table.

“Not really. At least, not to me. We’re only having this silly party because Grandmama wanted it. I think it ridiculous.”

“Surely, you don’t mean that you’ve never celebrated your birthday?”

“Not overly much,” she answered softly. “At first, I was just too sad. And then as time went on it just didn’t seem right. To celebrate my life when we had lost hers so suddenly. Grandmama always marked the occasion in some small way. Papa just did as he was told.” She smiled, but it felt forced.

Suddenly, he was there. On his haunches before her and forcing her gaze up to his.

“Though I would usually agree that any and all festivities are rather ridiculous—” He grinned wryly. “I cannot agree that celebratingyouis the same. In fact,” he continued, his eyes softening as he watched her face. “Your birthday, your presence in the world – I can’t think of a single thing worth celebrating more.”

A warmth stole over Holly at his wonderful words, and she could only imagine how furiously she was blushing.

Evan lifted a hand and smoothed a thumb over her cheek.

“I so enjoy making you blush,” he laughed. “I hope I can always do so.”

His eyes flew back to Holly’s at his words, and her heart thudded painfully.

Always?

He couldn’t actually mean that, could he?

Was it possible that he was as foolish as she when it came to the heart? Because she knew with a certainty that she couldn’t quite explain, that her heart now belonged to the man crouched in front of her.

She loved him. Perhaps she’d fallen in love with him that first time she’d spotted him across a ballroom in London when his handsomeness had stolen her breath.

But to think he felt the same? It was just foolish.

He was a man of the world. Sophisticated. Experienced. Well used to dalliances with ladies, she was sure.

Pretty words were the language he spoke, and to think otherwise would lead to heartache.

“What is that busy mind thinking?” he quipped as he watched her intently. “I know that it’s something quite serious. I can see the wheels turning, but I don’t think I’m in trouble. The fire hasn’t lit your eyes. Yet.”

Holly frowned at him.

“What do you mean?” She tried to sound nonchalant, but her voice came out as little more than a tremble. “You don’t even know me.”

His smile was positively wolfish, and a wicked heat unfurled inside of her in response to that expression.

“Oh, I do,” he answered. “Not as well as I’d like to, but I do.”

She couldn’t swallow past the lump in her throat as the heat slid along her veins.

“I know that you miss your mother. I know that you love your grandmother, enough to put up with all of this for her.”

Holly thought distractedly that his legs were likely growing tired, but he didn’t seem to notice or mind.

“I know that even though you’re beautiful enough to send a man cross-eyed, you don’t really care about such things. I know that you enjoy riding because of the freedom it gives you, and you ride astride because you don’t care about silly rules and following them no matter what.”

Holly was frozen by his words.

How was it possible that he knew so much about her true self in such a short space of time?

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