Page 67 of Sleigh Bells and Snowstorms
“Oh yes, millions. But I have a theory about Archer. I don’t think he does it for the money. Maybe he did at first, but now I think he does it for the challenge.” I took a drink. “Speaking of thieves, we still have work to do here.”
Her eyes lit up. “You’re right, we do. I want to know more about Julian.”
“As do I. I’d love to get a look inside his house.”
“You aren’t planning to break in, are you?”
“No. Not yet, at least. Usually, I’d contrive a way to be invited, but I suspect that isn’t going to work. It’s possible he recognized me.”
“You think he knows who you are?”
“I can’t be certain. But it’s why I thought he might have gotten to you.”
She shook her head. “I haven’t seen him.”
“We’ll have to do some reconnaissance.”
“Do you mean spy on him?”
I lifted a shoulder in a slight shrug. “Essentially. But only if you’re feeling up to it. You need to rest.”
“I’ll be fine. Although if it involves running to make a quick getaway, I might have regrets.”
“We’ll see how you feel tomorrow. How’s that?”
“Probably smart. Although I don’t want to hold you up.”
“Don’t worry about that. I’m not in a hurry to leave. Besides, I made a certain little girl a promise I’d be here for Christmas.”
“About that. The pinky promise is a big deal in our family. Annabel’s going to take that very seriously.”
“It’s a good thing I plan to keep it.”
She smiled. “You’re very good with kids.”
My brow furrowed. “Am I?”
“Yeah, you’re so sweet with Annabel. Doesn’t it come naturally?”
“Not at all. Until my niece was born, I’d never really been around children.”
“Well, it seems very natural. The Santa hats were a nice touch.”
I grinned. “I’m glad you approve.”
“At the risk of stroking your ego, tonight was probably the best date I’ve ever been on.”
Normally, I would have said something like,“Of course it was, darling, it was with me.”But the cocky retort died on my lips. It was the strangest thing. Hearing that felt good, but not because I was pleased with myself. I liked that I’d made her happy.
Instead of ruining the moment with a stupid line—or worse, by giving words to the inexplicable feelings trying to work their way to the surface—I put our wineglasses on the coffee table and leaned in to kiss her.
That first kiss in the hospital had awoken a craving—an insatiable hunger for more. I’d been holding back all evening, but alone in the flat, I could finally indulge.
Careful not to hurt her, I ran my fingers through her hair as my tongue slid into her mouth. She tasted like red wine and smelled like vanilla and sugar—like Christmas cookies. Delicious. I kissed her deep and slow, savoring her like a good meal. Enjoying the softness of her lips and the warm wetness of her mouth tangled with mine.
She shifted closer, and I gently pulled her into my lap, her legs straddling me.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” I said between kisses.
