Page 15 of Christmas at Hart's Ridge

Heat flared in his eyes, like the inner flame of a candle. “Go home, Bethany.”

Frustration welled within me. He was too arrogant, too gorgeous, too insufferably male. I wanted to pound my fists on his hard chest, which I knew from recent experience would not give an inch. Plus I had a feeling throwing a tantrum would only confirm his belief that I was a child. And a bratty one, at that.

“You are not the boss of me,” I snapped, ignoring the sudden swoosh in my belly that told me I might like him being the boss of me a little too much. “I am not going home. It is nine o’clock and I am a twenty-something woman who doesn’t have to be up early tomorrow. Ishouldbe at a bar, flirting with a guy I’ll never see again. That’s the whole point of your twenties.”

So I’d been told, anyway. In New York, unless I had a show or an event, I was home by seven and in bed by nine. My grueling schedule was only possible with adequate rest. But now, here, I had a month where ballet was on the peripheral and I could just benormal. I wasn’t going to let Luke take that from me.

I faced him with renewed determination. “I’m going into that bar, Luke. I’m going to flirt. Hopefully I’m going to kiss somebody. If that’s not going to be you, get out of my way.”

Luke

I stared down at Bethany in disbelief.

I had to take a moment. Take a breath. Give my eyes time to adjust to everything that little Bethany Albright had become. Because right now, it was too much. Her skin was too glowy, her hair too fiery, her curves toothere. The woman standing in front of me, staring me down with a furor that made my dick twitch with interest, was in no way a child. I needed to come to terms with that.

And then shove it deep, deep down where I never had to look at that feeling again.

Because I should not be reacting to her like this. She wasn’t a child anymore, maybe I could accept that, but she was still Ethan’s. My first instinct was to toss her over my shoulder caveman style and carry her out of there because hell no was I going to allow her to waltz intomy own goddamn barand subject my little brother to the heartbreaking spectacle of watching the love of his life kiss another man.

No. Hell no.

Whatever was going on between Bethany and Ethan, I had no clue. Maybe they’d had an argument or something. Whatever it was, whatever Ethan had done to put Bethany in this mood, it wasn’t enough. No one deserved what she had planned for him. Looking down at Bethany’s upturned face, I was hit by a tidal wave of helpless outrage at the thought of her with another man. I wanted to roar with it. Throw something. Preferably, every man in my bar who had given her a second glance. ForEthan. Not myself.

I would do anything to spare Ethan from feeling what I was feeling now. That was my job, as his older brother. To protect him.

Even if it meant kissing her myself.

The argument made sense in my head. It made sense as I crowded into her space, hooking her around the waist with one arm to keep her where I wanted her. It made sense as I lowered my mouth to hers.

And then my lips met hers and nothing made sense. Nothing at all in the whole wide world. Because she shouldn’t feel this good. Thisright. She made a shocked sound, which was interesting, because to me, there was nothing shocking about it. It felt inevitable. Like it was always going to come to this.

Her hands trembled as she touched my abdomen, tentatively, like she wasn’t sure what she meant to do there. I half hoped, half feared she would push me away. But when she clenched my shirt in her fists, pulling me closer, all I felt wasyes, finally.

Because now she was kissing me back, and my whole world exploded with it.

Our height difference meant that it was a long way down to her mouth and since I had no intention of stopping anytime soon, I hauled her off her feet, wrapped her legs around my waist, and braced her back against the wall.

I didn’t ease into it. I wasn’t sweet or careful. I didn’t go slow. She wanted a kiss? Fine. I was the man for the job and I meant to do it so thoroughly that there wouldn’t be anything left for someone else. Like hell was some random guy going to touch her.

I leaned into her, keeping her pinned to the wall, my erection flush against her. With every stroke of my tongue, I took the kiss deeper, hotter, more carnal. She made a noise in the back of her throat. I struggled through the haze of lust to interpret the sound. Was it shock or approval? But then her hand went from gripping my shoulder to taking a fistful of my hair and that clarified things considerably.

She was fierce and greedy with her mouth. It made me desperate. And, fuck, that wasn’t the plan at all. I was sure of that, although right now, with Bethany’s tongue touching mine, I was having a hell of a time remembering what the plan actually was.

I slid my hand upward from her hip until I cupped her breast in my palm, then dragged my thumb across the neckline of her tank top, just barely grazing the curve of satiny skin.

She ripped her mouth from mine with a gasp. “I—I can’t—”

That was when I remembered she had been determined to do this with another man, and it was my responsibility—myduty—to show her how wrongheaded that was.

“You can’t what?” I asked, mercilessly keeping her pinned in place between the hardness of my erection and the hardness of the wall behind her.

Her hazel eyes, a kaleidoscope of blues and greens and golds, were unfocused as she gazed at me. I doubted she had any idea how tempting she looked right then, with her lips damp and swollen from our kiss, her hair tousled by my hands, and her cheeks flushed with heat. She let out a long, shuddery breath. I didn’t understand why that affected me the way it did. It made me want to hold her close, stroke her hair, tell her it was all okay.

And that wasn’t okay at all. She needed to know that.

“Men are not toys,” I said roughly.

Her gaze snapped into focus. “I beg your pardon?”

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