Page 38 of A Sinful Viscount's Mistletoe Affair
She followed him through the trees, her breath quickening as the woodland became thicker. They would be very unlikely to be seen here, she thought, allowing her mind to wander a little.
She wondered what it would be like for her back to be pressed against the hard bark of a tree and for Sebastian to kiss her fiercely, pushing his body against hers. She remembered the hardness of his chest and the way her body had responded to his touch like it was on fire. She felt something in her knees weaken a little at the thought, and a soft gasp emitted from her lips.
“Are you quite alright, Lady Isabella?” Sebastian asked, looking at her a little strangely.
She smiled. “Quite alright,” she replied, feeling a little embarrassed at the thoughts that would not leave her mind. But it was so hard to look at him and not to think of these things. She was not sure she could bear it much longer if he did not kiss her again.
***
Sebastian led Isabella through the woods, wondering what they might find at the end of the path. Clearly she knew the land much better than he did, having been brought up here, but the snow made it difficult to see the path. He allowed himself to imagine what might happen if they got lost, out here in the rather remote woodland, where hardly any people were around.
He knew they had to be careful, though. It was not as if they were completely alone. Any of the other couples participating in the hunt could emerge through the trees at any moment. He could not deny, though, that the chance of discovery made it all the more enticing.
He was finding it very difficult not to think about the kiss they had shared the previous night and how hard it had been to hold back. The softness of her lips had astonished him, and the sensation of her slim body in his arms had filled him with a desire stronger than he had ever known.
The path rounded a corner now, and he saw in front of them a wooden gazebo in the middle of a small clearing.
“I have four legs but cannot walk,” he murmured, then chuckled. “It is the gazebo itself that is the clue! Come on, let us go inside.”
They moved underneath the structure and looked around. He saw that around the edges, hanging from the wooden beams, an ornate lacework of snow and icicles was hanging down.
Next to him, Isabella let out a soft sigh. “It is almost too beautiful to be real,” she whispered.
He stared at her, thinking he could say the same thing about her. Out here in the fresh winter air, her cheeks were pink with cold, and snowflakes were in her hair. He could see his breath clouding in the air in front of him. It seemed almost to billow towards her as if the very essence of him, everything that emitted from him, was being drawn in her direction.
It was as if the outside world had faded into nothing, and all that existed was the two of them here, cocooned away in the secluded hiding place of the gazebo.
He took a step towards her, his heart rate increasing. He did not think he could resist her pull, no matter how hard he tried. But his vendetta against her father was what mattered; he tried to remind himself. That was why he was here; that was what he should be focusing on. And yet, the more he looked at her, the more reality seemed to slip away.
Her eyes were wide and glistening as she looked at him. Was she anticipating his kiss? Or was she feeling uncertain about whether they should be here together? He could not quite sense her emotions, but when her rosy lips parted, he could bear it no longer. His feelings rampaged around inside him like a storm. He moved in towards her, reaching out, a little tentatively at first, to brush a snowflake from her cheek.
He sensed her moving towards him, their faces drawing closer. Their resistance was waning once again, he could tell. The tension crackled between them, as they again gave way to their passion.
He pressed his lips against hers and kissed her softly, then wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer, feeling her soft body melding towards his. He moved his lips gently and felt her respond. She let out a soft moan, and the sound of it made his passion rise even further.
He deepened his kiss and felt her arms tighten around him, pushing herself closer to him. She felt almost as if she might fall; the swoon was so strong, and he held her up with strong arms, kissing her even more deeply, his tongue probing the hotness of her mouth.
Before he gave way to his desires entirely, he pulled away and felt her sigh as she stared at him.
“We should look for the clue, Isabella,” he whispered.
She nodded with a smile that made everything inside him melt. He was not sure how much longer he would be able to control himself if they stayed here alone. Her fervent response to his passion ignited feelings inside him that he had never experienced before, and he knew they were in dangerous territory.
Chapter 18
Felicity was not sure if she could bear it any longer. The treasure hunt trail had led them back indoors, and now she felt rather hot and uncomfortable, having been outside in the cold for such a long time.
What she really wanted to do was sit down and have a rest, but the duke would not hear of it.
“Don’t you want to win, Miss Harrow?” he kept on saying, in a rather demanding tone, until she was ready to reply that she didn’t give a fig about winning, and all she wanted was five minutes’ peace. But, of course, she would never be so uncouth, to speak to a duke in such a way.
“Your Grace, I am sure we are in the lead,” she said, trying again as they entered the library. “Do you not think we could pause just for a moment? My feet are hurting.”
She saw, once they entered the room, that they were not in the lead at all, as Lady Daphne and Mr Sterling had reached the library before them. They were standing in a corner, heads close together, whispering and giggling.
Felicity felt a pang of envy as she watched them. Clearly the pair of them were kindred spirits and had fallen into the kind of easy relationship she could only dream of. He had seen how Mr Sterling looked at Daphne, and she knew full well that no one had ever looked at her like that in all her life.
She allowed herself to reflect, perhaps rather cattily, that if she had the same size fortune as Lady Daphne, then perhaps young gentlemen would find her more attractive. Well, if she had any fortune at all. But the truth was that she had scarcely any dowry, and her own personal attractions were unlikely ever to be sufficient to secure her a good match.
