Page 214 of Ten Lords for the Holidays

Something cool and soft landed against her cheek, just below the edge of her mask.

“Make a wish,” Count Nikolai said. “Quickly, before it melts.”

“I wish—”

He set his finger to her lips, the heat of his touch like fire against her mouth. Startled, she glanced up at him.

“Don’t speak it aloud, or it won’t come true. Hurry.” Count Nikolai removed his finger from her mouth. The sensation of his touch lingered, like a drop of brandy burning on her lips.

I wish I might find someone who loves me, Eliana, for who I could be and not who they assume I am. She put all the recent fierce longing of her soul into the wish.

His gaze still fixed on her face, his eyes widened. “That looked like a fearsome wish, indeed. I would not want to be your enemy.”

The blush heating her cheeks surely must have melted the snowflake. “It was not that kind of wish.”

Even behind the mask, she could see his brows rise. “In that case, I think I would want to be your friend.”

“It wasn’tthatkind of a wish, either,” she said tartly. Though perhaps it was. Not that it was any of his business. “Aren’t you going to wish for something?”

“What makes you think I didn’t?”

She pulled her cloak closer about her shoulders. “What good is this game if you don’t know what the other person wished for?”

He let out a breath, a puff of white in the snowflake-crowded air. “Very well. I’ll tell you mine, but then it will not come true.”

“You can’t know that. Wishes are magic.” The snow gently swirling about them seemed to dance in agreement.

“You’ll see I’m right.” A self-deprecating tilt to his lips, he leaned forward and lowered his voice. “I wished to kiss you.”

She should bid him a curt good evening and whisk herself back into the house. Miss Eliana Banning would certainly do so. But she was weary of being the vivacious yet proper Miss Banning. For just this night, this moment, she could be Mademoiselle Red.

She could be daring, and serious, and a tiny bit wicked.

The bouquet of young ladies had gone back into the house, and the few other people in the garden were blurred shapes, concealed by the thickly falling snow.

She took a step forward, until she could feel the heat of his body brushing against hers. Oh, she was reckless, but she didn’t care.

“I told you, wishes are magic,” she said, tilting her face up. “I grant your wish.”

He sucked in his breath, as if he might argue. Then, before either of them could reconsider, he bent and pressed his lips to hers.

Her hands went to his shoulders and she leaned in, her senses whirling like the snowflakes. Gently, she parted her lips, and his tongue dipped inside. She tasted cloves and oranges, heat and desire.

In a sudden movement, he gathered her close against him. The nose of his mask bumped against the side of her face, but she didn’t mind. It was a small nuisance balanced against the extraordinary sensation of his kiss.

Sparks raced through her, flaming mirror-images of the snow falling around them, but contained—barely—within her body. Fire, and the taste of his tongue, and a dizzying whirl inside her head that made her clutch his shoulders for balance.

He was kissing her.Her. Not merry, pretty, sometimes shallow Eliana Banning, but the girl inside. The one who was now emerging, who wanted to make her own decisions instead of going along with Society’s expectations.

The one who had spent the best evening of her life dancing and conversing with a masked man who didn’t even know her name.

He held her tightly against him, and every inch of her saidyes, over and over, lost in his arms. Their breaths mingled, and their hearts seemed to settle into the same rhythm. Nothing else mattered but this endless moment, a perfect rushing of heat and cold, of light and dark, of man and woman.

They could have stood there, kissing, until they were covered with snow, until the night wore into dawn and the last invisible stars set. But the door opened, loudly disgorging Lord Whitcomb and his boisterous group of friends into the garden.

Count Nikolai pulled back, and the rush of cold air against her lips made Eliana want to weep with a sudden sense of loss. His mask was dislodged, and she caught a glimpse of his handsome face; the planes of his cheeks descending to a strong jaw.

“Have we met, sir?” she asked, peering up at him through a sudden flurry. “You look familiar.”

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