Page 17 of The Mistletoe Temptation

“No.” The response was there before she could temper it.

He glanced at her curiously, that soft smile on his beautiful lips again.

“We’ve only just walked out so it would be a pity to go back so soon. We are not made of salt, and it doesn’t look as though the rain will set in.”

“Let’s walk under the trees. I’ll be in trouble with your mother if you catch cold.”

A good point. A large raindrop hit her nose. And she would miss walking with him if she became ill. Though maybe he’d be allowed to come and read to her, which wouldn’t be so bad. Better to be outside, away from prying eyes and ears though. She glanced around, but there was no one within sight.

“Shall we run?”

This made him grin. “A race. Or I’ll give you a head start and chase.”

She widened her eyes in mock fear, grasped her skirts and ran. His laughter followed her and then besides her own heavy breathing and the rain and the slap of her feet, she heard his boots, rhythmically pounding behind her, then just as they entered the trees and she slowed, his arms came around her.

“Got you,” he said softly and stroked her waist. She ought not to have been able to feel the warmth of his hands through her thick woolen pelisse, but she could. They paused, watching one another, the copper-brown leaves of the beech tree sheltering them from the worst of the rain.

“Here.” He leaned down so his face was level with hers and she could see the raindrops on his cheeks, his eyelashes, his lips. She could kiss each one off.

With careful fingers he adjusted her bonnet, which she belatedly realized had come loose while running. But instead of lingering on retying the ribbon as he’d done sometimes before, he set about his task with neat efficiency. And where a month ago he’d have lazily examined her face with hooded eyes as he fixed the ribbons, today he watched her mouth for only a second before declaring her once again perfect.

He wasn’t trying to tempt her.

Why not? And why did it bother her so much that he wasn’t?

CHAPTER8

21 December1817

“This is our first Christmas together,”Gina commented. She and Emmett were walking along the river by her family’s country estate in Wiltshire, on their now habitual morning constitutional.

“And our last.” He caught her arm as she stumbled over her own feet at his words.

She hadn’t thought of that. Being with Emmett had become as easy as breathing. Easier, actually, since breathing in his presence had become an increasing problem over the last six months.

He was wearing a greatcoat that covered his figure entirely, and she’d found as the days had drawn in she’d become nostalgic for the summer when he’d been wrapped in fewer layers. He’d become more serious too. The constant questions and suggestive comments had settled into considerate inquiries about her plans and activities. Usually that was planning a trip she intended to take after she came into her inheritance. He rarely talked about himself unless asked, and Gina had started prying further and further into his business and life, wanting to know more, even as he seemed to withdraw.

At first it had been a point of honor to resist his every advance, but they’d been coming less and less frequently. So when he handed her over the flat stone slab of a stile without pulling her close like he had in the summer, the question she’d been withholding for weeks now slipped out.

“You don’t try to tempt me to kiss you anymore.” She brushed off her skirts as though she were only mentioning this in passing.

“I don’t,” he agreed. “Do you miss it?”

“I…” She rather thought she might. But she couldn’t say that. “Why did you stop?”

“Ah, Gina.” He clasped his hands behind his back, so tightly that his knuckles whitened and continued walking. “When I tempt you, I tempt myself as well.”

“What do you mean?” He was usually straightforward, but that made no sense.

“I promised I wouldn’t kiss you. That was our bargain. I wouldn’t kiss you; you wouldn’t lie to me.”

Her lie about liking embroidery echoed in her head, but she shook it away.

“It was a blackmail, not a bargain. But I still don’t understand.” What did their bargain have to do with him tempting her? He’d said touching was allowed, and that she could kiss him. She had begun to wonder recently if perhaps she would like kissing him. Purely as a matter of inquiry. An adventure.

“I’m just a man, Gina. There’s only so much temptation I can take.” His voice was rough. “Even when I’m the one inflicting it.”

“You wanted to kiss me?”

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