Page 20 of The Grand Mistletoe Assembly
He raised his hand to touch his lips with the tip of his finger. He’d wanted to do that all night but refrained. He could not rid himself of the impact of the kiss; the sensation had engraved too deeply.
That Pippa Averly recklessly seized and savored moments was not news to him. That he had become a moment she had seized … That irked him beyond reason. He, Nicholas Byrne, Earl of Chatteris, was not just another moment to collect.
The mere notion sat wretchedly in his heart.
Seizing moments? The woman courted ruin.
His determination firmed.
Pippa needed to be taught a lesson, and he needed to take back the control she’d so carelessly stolen. Kissing her served this dual purpose. She would learn that a woman cannot kiss a man carelessly without consequencesandthey would be even. She kissed him. He kissed her. That would be the end of it.
A splendid plan.
Nicholas ignored that there might be something off with his line of reasoning. Nothing about this night and its sequence of events was rational. A man needed to be crafty when dealing with a crafty woman.
At the very least, a dark voice inside him argued, he would have a chance to taste her again.
Nicholas poured another brandy.
How many rules had he broken tonight alone? Rules he had set up exactly so thatthiswould never happen. This spiral in his mental state. From the first moment he’d met Pippa, he’d known, deep in his bones, she would etch herself there if he did not put personal stipulations in place.
Rightfully so.
She hadn’t seemed to be all that fond of him and found his character too stiff. Nicholas hadn’t wanted to risk anything that might ruin Nancy’s friendship. After all, desires were fleeting, but the value of family was worth more than its weight in treasure.
Now, with one kiss, Pippa had cast him into a void of confusion.
He swallowed the brandy in one go.
What good did those rules do in the end?
Pippa had already firmly lodged under his skin.
CHAPTER 4
If you cannot get over a gentleman’s kiss, kiss a rogue.
—From the Diary of Lillian Wright
Pippa banged her head on one of the fluffy pillows scattered across her bed. Just how much punch had she drunk to steal a kiss fromhim!
Nicholas Byrne.
What had she been thinking?
Of course, that was the problem. She hadn’t been thinking … She’d been seizing!
In the past, Pippa had gotten into all sorts of scrapes with her unwavering philosophy. A grumpy cat had scratched her hand. She’d fallen into an ice-cold river after an attempt at fishing. Thorns had prickled her feet when she’d run barefoot across a country field.
But kissing Nicholas …
This was beyond any moment she had ever seized.
The touch of Nicholas’s lips against hers. The soft scent of pine that clung to his coat. Large hands encircling her waist. These were infinitely more dangerous than any previous consequences that had arisen from seizing a moment. Because they were so much more than that. They were gentle enticements. Little snares. And she had an alarming suspicion she’d been caught in their toils.
Pippa, Pippa, Pippa.
She’d gone and done it now.
