Page 17 of The Grand Mistletoe Assembly
Low voices murmured in the distance, and leaves shuffled nearby, reminding him of the consequences of being found alone in each other’s company. Much less kissing.
“Perhaps I am a bit tipsy. You should lighten up, Sir Nicholas the Cold. The holidays are for seizing magical moments, don’t you know?”
Nicholas the Cold? Was that what she thought of him? And did she plan on making more memories tonight? With whom? Him? Or someone else? In a more rational moment, it might have occurred to him that there was something off with his line of reasoning. But this was not a rational moment, and he was not dealing with a rational girl.
“How much did you have to drink?”
“Only a little.” She motioned with her thumb and forefinger. “Well, I’m off to find Nancy! See you later!”
“Dammit, Pippa, wait.” He grabbed her wrist. “You can’t kiss me and just run off like that.”
“Why not? It’s only a kiss. Pretend it never happened.”
Nicholas’s jaw went slack.Only a kiss? Pretend it never happened?Impossible. It happened. It could notunhappen. The probability of him forgetting this incident was absolutely zero.
Nicholas scowled. “What if I demand you take responsibility?”
She chuckled. “What are you saying? I was just teasing you. Do not take it so personally. In any case, I didn’t mean for it to be you. It’s just when I saw you—”
Nicholas’s heart nearly exploded in anger. “I beg your pardon. It wasn’tmeantto be me? Who the hell was your kiss meant for, then?”
Her eyes widened in her pretty heart-shaped face, as though she had carelessly revealed a crown secret. She froze, a little creature who’d caught the scent of a predator. And he was the predator, one that had been caged for too long and finally managed to break out.
Then her laughter rang out, catching him off guard. A familiar melody he had heard countless times before, yet somehow felt as if it were the first time he’d heard this particular laugh from Pippa. Mystical, almost.
His pulse leaped. Actuallyleaped.
Christ above.
Not to say anything about her, but what the devil was wrong withhim? She was the last female on earth who should set his pulse leaping. The woman had spent years perfecting the art of trouncing on his boundary line. He ought to be used to her little tricks. Not to mention, there were some lines brothers should never cross.
As if her laughter hadn’t already confused the hell out of him, she then did the most confounding thing—she lifted a finger to her lips and smiled. The most maddening smile Nicholas had ever had the misfortune of receiving. Not because it was smug. But because it made him rock hard. The kind of reaction he had spent years mastering to suppress whenever she gave him such a soft smile.
He watched her dart off to the ballroom.
What the hell had just happened?
CHAPTER 3
Never blame the wine.
—From the Diary of Lillian Wright
Pippa had lost her mind.
Yes, that was it. How else to explain her behavior? She had thought she’d have the last laugh; after all, she considered herself an expert when it came to teasing the Earl of Chatteris. However, something had gone devastatingly wrong. She ought to feel over the moon. Pleased as punch. Triumphant, even. After all, she’d known Chatteris for ten years, and never had she been able to shock him as she had done tonight.
However, she had startled herself into a befuddlement! In fact, she felt a bit perplexed. A touch beside herself.
That kiss …
No, no, no. The kiss most certainly was not the reason she felt a touch beside herself. It should be the punch. Her hand must have slipped when she poured the brandy.
She let out a short breath and touched her lips.
They still tingled …
Lord Almighty!
