“I suppose I might have,” she said, coming to stand beside him. Her heart beat faster and her stomach began turning over once more. Now that the moment had come, every nerve within her danced about until she feared she might be ill. Best get it over with then.
She made an attempt at innocent surprise as she glanced up toward the ceiling. “Oh, look. Mistletoe.”
Honestly, she wanted to smack herself in the head. Never before had any young woman sounded as daft as she. But at least the fact was now out there. They were beneath the mistletoe and if tradition could be relied upon, kissing would logically follow.
“Hmm. So we are,” Mr. Townsend mused.
Unfortunately, he made no move to sweep her into his arms as she had hoped he might do. Instead, he tilted his head and studied her with an unnerving degree of scrutiny. “If I didn’t know any better, I would believe you deliberately maneuvered me into this interesting situation.”
“Well, I–”
“Emma?”
“Yes?”
“What’s going on?”
It was as if that one question defeated her completely. She felt her shoulders sag as she blew out a breath. “The truth is, Jane dared me to kiss you, and you know what would happen to me if I failed.”
A sympathetic smile played about his lips. “Well, you probably ought to get on with it then. Unless of course you’d rather serve as her maid for a week and give up one month’s allowance.”
A little taken aback by his lack of shock or outrage in the face of her somewhat scandalous confession, Emma glanced around, just to be certain they were completely alone. When her gaze came to rest upon his face once more, she was met by a welcoming kindness and a poised expression suggestive of tightly strung control.
She shook herself. What utter nonsense. This was Benedict for heaven’s sake – the same man who’d all but ignored her existence since her coming out.
Swallowing, she gave a quick nod. “All right. If you could maybe lean forward a bit so I can reach?”
The edge of his mouth curved with humor as he answered her request. Emma cleared her throat, took a deep breath for fortification, and placed a swift kiss on his lips before adding distance once more. “There.”
He gave her a funny look. “That’s it?”
“Yes.”
“Hmm…”
“What?” She knew he hadn’t wanted her kiss, and yet he now acted as if her attempt was less than mediocre.
“It’s just not very convincing, Emma. I mean, I’m not sure if you kissed me or bumped into me. And if Jane asks, I’m not certain I’ll be convincing in my description of it.”
Emma’s jaw dropped. “Are you serious?”
“Perfectly so,” he murmured.
She huffed. “Very well. Lean forward again if you would.”
“Only if you agree to come closer. As it is I’m in danger of toppling over and crashing into the floor head first.” He held out his hand and she instinctively took it.
Benedict curled his fingers around Emma’s hand and drew her nearer. Blood thundered in his ears as expectation stampeded through him. He was with Emma, alone in the library, and she was about to kiss him again. Because of a dare.
When she’d pressed her lips to his moments earlier, every thought of pretending indifference had vanished. The split second caress had stirred his senses like nothing else, and he wanted more. Indeed, he would have more.
Soon.
Especially since her confession regarding her reason for bringing him here had made one thing clear. If Emma hadn’t wanted to kiss him, she would have suffered all the repercussions of not going through with the dare. Which meant she did want to kiss him, even if she lacked the courage to offer more than the briefest peck.
Immensely pleased with this revelation, he slowly lowered his head and gave up control. She needed to instigate this. What happened after was up to him.
With the sort of measured movements that were sure to drive him mad, she rose onto her tiptoes and pressed her mouth to his once more. His heart knocked wildly against his chest as he breathed in her cherry blossom fragrance. This was surely heavenly bliss. Yet he knew there could be more, and now that he’d had a sample, he wanted that so desperately it boggled his mind.
So when she began leaning back, he swept his arms around her and hauled her against him. When she gasped in response, he pressed his cheek to hers and whispered in her ear, “I’d like to kiss you again, but if you don’t want that, you need only say so.”
Her ensuing silence accompanied by the feel of her arms looping round his neck was all the encouragement he needed. Meeting her mouth once more, he kissed her with focus, with intent, and with all the love he harbored for her. It was firmer than her attempts, hungrier in its effort to coax a more primal response.
To his immense satisfaction it didn’t take long for her to relax in his arms and follow his lead, and when she parted her lips and granted him entry, he was lost – lost in the sweetness of Emma. Hugging her to him, he let himself drown in her essence, savoring every slide of her lips, every playful nibble and touch of her hands.
Breathing raggedly, he scattered kisses upon her cheek, along the edge of her jaw, and down the side of her neck. “Lord have mercy, you can’t know how long I’ve dreamed about this.”
“I’ve dreamed of it too. Endlessly. For over a year. I just never thought…” Her words dissolved in a sigh of pleasure, the confession she’d made so thoroughly enticing it made him want to do all sorts of wicked things with her right here, right now.
Damn.
He had to resist until the most practical matters were taken care of. So he raised his head with great regret and gazed down into her upturned face. Her lips dark and swollen from kissing and her eyes glazed with desire put his self–control to the utmost of tests.
Still he resisted, and spoke the words that had been contained for so long in his heart. “I love you, Emma. I have done so longer than I can remember but didn’t think you felt the same. If you do, then marry me. Please. Make me the luckiest man in the world by becoming my bride, my wife, and–”
“I love you too, Mr. Townsend.” She gazed at him in wonder. “Benedict.”
The sound of his name on her lips was like tonic, so he kissed her again, kissed the sweetness of her existence, and thanked the Lord for Jane, a sister whose meddling would lead to the happily ever after he yearned for with Emma much sooner than either of them could have managed alone.
Counting his blessings, he held Emma close while the flames in the fireplace bathed them with warmth. This was the gift of Christmas – finding joy in a cozy room on a cold winter’s night with the woman he loved. And all of the memories yet to be made.
December 17
A Secret Christmas Rendezvous
Snow had begun to fall the afternoon of Christmas Eve. Heavy flakes still drifted lazily toward the ground when Claire awoke on Christmas morning. With her bed wedged against the wall, she could easily sit up, draw the curtains, and peer out at the white winter landscape. Frost glazed the beveled glass of her bedchamber window with sharply defined crystal flowers.
Pulling her blanket up over her shoulders, Claire blew on the glass, fogging it. A smile teased her lips as she painted a series of hearts along with her and George’s initials. She was to meet him at the folly this afternoon so they could, as he’d put it, discuss their future.