Page 44 of Meet Me Under the Mistletoe
“What I said is true, we are encouraged not to get involved with guests. Lord Abercrombie doesn’t want the staff behaving like Ibiza holiday reps—his words, not mine. But I don’t think that would apply to you and I.”
“Then what?” Nory pressed.
“Thom,” said Isaac.
“Thom,” she repeated dully. “My brother is stopping you from pursuing whatever this is? How exactly?”
“He’s asked me, as a friend, not to get involved with you.”
“Wow!” She was going to kill Thomas. At the very least, maim him. And she was going to fill his desk drawers with slugs. And she was going to tell Shelley! “Can I ask why?”
“He wasn’t specific. He just said he could tell that I liked you, and as a favor to him, could I refrain from pursuing anything with you. You’re his little sister and I’m his mate, and he doesn’t want things to get awkward. I guess he’s protective of you.”
Nory blew out a huff that was distinctly raspberry-ish. “Oh, protective my arse! The man’s a megalomaniac.”
Isaac laughed. “So, you see my predicament. I am trapped between honor and desire.”
Isaac was moving closer to her again. Too close. Too close for someone who wasn’t going to kiss her. She could feel the warmth of his breath as he moved his face near to hers, their cold nosestouching, lips so tantalizingly close she could almost taste them. Arrrghhhh! She was so angry! But also very, very turned on. What cruel torture was this?
“Believe me, there is nothing I would like more at this moment than to kiss you.” Isaac’s voice was low, almost a whisper; their heads were still pressed together. “I have barely thought of anything else since hauling you out of that wheelbarrow. But Thomas is my friend.”
“Right.”
Isaac took her hand in his. “Nory, I am very attracted to you.”
“Right.”
“Say something other than ‘right.’ ”
“Okay?”
Isaac smiled and leaned in to lay a single kiss on her neck, which Nory felt reverberate through every nerve in her body.Damn stupid, horny body! You’re supposed to be angry and aloof!
“I promise you,” he whispered into her neck, his breath a delightful warm agony on her skin. “I want to kiss you.” He stood back and smiled at her. “I’ll see you in the morning,” he said, before turning and walking away.
Nory watched him go. When his figure had been consumed by the night, she texted her brother.Stay out of my life!
You stay out of mine!came the response.
She sighed and went up to bed. Propped up against multiple pillows on her four-poster, Nory cheered her soul by trawling through vintage-book websites, searching for the perfect midwinter books for her January displays. By 3:00 a.m., she’d sourced several first-edition classic crime novels set in large country houses and a vintage copy ofMurder on the Orient Express, just the ticket to soothe the post-Christmas blues.
The book search had consumed her energies and she was nowtoo tired to be annoyed at Thomas. She liked Isaac. She really liked him. She hadn’t felt this way about anyone in, well, she couldn’t even remember in how long. Why was her brother being such a poo brain? She sighed. He was a poop head even when they were kids—except when he was being the best brother in the world, of course. And that was what made their relationship so complex.
She batted Thomas out of her thoughts and closed her eyes, letting Isaac fill her mind. Good grief he was gorgeous. All the promise of handsome he’d had about him when he was a teenager had been fulfilled and then some. She pictured his long, slender hands, imagining them on her body, and found herself biting her lip.
When sleep finally took her, her last enduring thought was that she wasn’t prepared to back away from Isaac and whatever this spark was between them; she’d take her chances and hang the consequences.
Thirteen
The party traipsed out into the crisp morning air, their breath clouding above their heads, and last night’s snow had all but gone. Still, the grass was silvered with frost and a misty shroud hung over the land as the winter sun warmed the frozen earth.
Charles and Guy of course wore traditional tweed coats and matching trousers tucked into Wellington boots and tweed flatcaps.
“Have you ever seen them look morelord of the manorthan they do right now?” Ameerah asked as they followed them out to the waiting Land Rovers.
“I’d say I found it rather sexy if Charles didn’t already fancy himself so much,” Jenna added dryly.
Camille sniggered.
