Page 63 of The Mistletoe Countess
The snow had thickened, falling with impressive heaviness. Another roar boomed above their heads, louder than all the others. She released his hand and took up her skirt to move faster. “Strawberries, ice cream, ladybugs.”
“Ladybugs?” He stumbled and then caught up with her. “What are you doing?”
“Distracting myself with happy thoughts.” The house garden came into view, and another swell of thunder rolled close by. “Puppies, horses, babies’ feet, children’s laughter.”
The entire situation struck an alarming mixture of humor and sym-pathy, but the humor was slowly winning as she continued her list.
“The smell of books, Christmas trees, cobblestone streets.” Grace’s hair had come completely loose and fell about her shoulders in damp ringlets.
Thunder rolled again, louder, quickening her voice pitch. “Chocolate pastries, amber scents.” She turned with almost a smile on her pale face as he opened the side door of the house for her and Zeus. “Your kisses are a new one to add to my list.”
And he grinned as if God had hand delivered an early Christmas gift to him directly in the middle of a winter thunderstorm. He pulled Grace against him and turned her kissing talk into action. She gasped against his lips at another round of thunder but didn’t pull away. Instead, her hands slid up into his hair and held him in place. His wife was a fast and enthusiastic learner. A definite benefit for what he had in mind.
With a gentle break in their contact, he ushered her into the house.
“Oh that was wonderfully distracting. Could we do it again?”
“I have every hope we shall, but in a more private venue.” He placed his hands on her shoulders as she moved in for another kiss. “Can you find your way to your bedroom? I’ll be up directly.”
Those fascinating blue eyes rounded as if wounded.
“I promise, darling. I need to speak with Brandon, and then I will come to you.”
She nodded, her bottom lip wobbling before she started toward the grand staircase at almost a run. “Kisses, hugs, laughter, more kisses.”
Frederick turned in time to see Brandon beside him, staring at Grace’s retreating form, both brows raised to nearly touch the man’s hairline. Frederick couldn’t tame his grin. “She’s terrified of thunder.”
Brandon turned his attention slowly to Frederick. “I see, sir.”
“With that in mind, Brandon, would you please inform the servants that Lady Astley and I wish not to be disturbed this afternoon.”
His brows rose again, and he lowered his gaze. “Yes, sir.”
“And once the snow has cleared, would you have someone ride out to the ruins to have a look about? Even hire a couple more men for the grounds, if you will.” Frederick surged toward the stairway. “I’d like some extra eyes around the estate.”
“Yes, sir.”
Frederick bounded up the stairs, intent on providing a thorough distraction for his lovely wife. He could hear her frantic singing from outside the closed bedroom door and struggled to keep his laughter in check before entering. Why, oh why had he been afraid to give his heart to this authentically beautiful creature?
Her hair spun in wet ringlets around her face, and she’d already shed her gloves, taken off her wet coat, and even removed her shoes and stockings.
That made his job much easier.
As he entered, another burst of thunder sounded, and Grace ran directly into his arms, burying her head in his shoulder. “Do you think thunder snow is worse than regular thunder? What a horrible combination of two very different things. Snow is so lovely. Thunder is…” She shuddered and pushed her head into the crook of his neck.
With a gentle touch to her chin, he tipped her face up and took her mouth with his. She groaned into him, inciting his pulse and determination. His hand glided down her back, noting the placement of her buttons. Too many.
His palm slid up her arm and over her neck, before taking a slow detour down the side of her body.
She gasped. The thunder shook again. Her fingers dug into his shirt, fisting with more fervency, her breath a quiet whimper.
She needed something to do.
“Grace, darling, would you do me a favor?”
She looked up at him, half confused, half terrified, her azure eyes so close.
“My shirt is damp. Do you think you could unbutton it for me while I help you with yours?”
