Theodore smiled, coming closer as Lauren instinctively retreated. She didn’t realize how serious his pursuit was until her shoulder blades came in contact with one of the large windows at the room’s northern end. The glass pane was icy-cold, chilling her through the layers of her clothes.
It was darker here, the sconces’ light barely illuminating the shadows. Trapped by Theodore’s elegantly muscled body, she was caged in place. Held hostage by a memory of melting the first time this man kissed her. How frightening it was because it seemed her soul was no longer her own. It had felt from that moment as though she belonged irrevocably to him and no one else.
How she detested the fact she had missed him.
“My lovely girl, I’ve no need for your inheritance.” Theodore trailed a finger over Lauren’s cheek. “I never held any intention of using it as a means of restoring what my irresponsible father squandered.”
Theodore’s icy blue eyes bore into her own grey ones, searching, probing. Lauren swallowed, wanting to look away but unable to do so. Her gaze locked on his firm mouth, which looked as kissable as ever, the lower lip full and lush and utterly sinful.
“The contract died with our fathers,” Lauren whispered. “Nothing binds us together now.”
“The contract still exists, although I’d never force you to honor it.”
“I don’t understand what you want from me, Hawthorne.”
“I did not want you because of your inheritance. I agreed to marry you because I fell in love with you.” Theodore leaned closer, brushing his nose along her ear, inhaling her scent. “I’m still in love with you.”
“You barely know me,” Lauren replied shakily. The three blissful months of their engagement before she learned of his deception also taught her a valuable lesson. Time could not reveal every nuance of a man’s character.
Yes, he barely knew her, and she certainly hadn’t known him.
Theodore shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. The moment I laid eyes on you, I knew you were meant to be mine. You knew it, too. The first time I kissed you, you kissed me back.” He tucked a stray lock of hair back into her updo and tilted her chin up with his finger. “Tell me you did not feel it too, Lauren. Tell me you did not know my heart belonged to you, and yours belonged to me.”
The intensity of his gaze could not be escaped. “Your father—”
“Is dead. As is yours. What’s left is between us. I want you, Lauren. I want you to be my wife. I want the opportunity to prove we should be together.”
“I’ve no wish to be a wife.” Lauren turned her head, dislodging his finger. “I want to control my own funds, make my own decisions…”
“And so you shall,” Theodore agreed with cryptic smoothness. “Shielding you from fortune hunters, knowing you would become a countess, my countess, was your father’s greatest motivation. He trusted I would take care of you for the rest of your life. Had my father not lost nearly every penny of our estates, he would never have asked Lord Kendall to consider a marriage between us. Had I not been struck by the lightning of your smile, your father would have never considered me for your husband.” Theodore’s head tilted, his eyes gleaming. “Tell me, Lauren. Have you not thought of me during these many months apart?”
“No.”
“Liar. Your voice is trembling. You’re trembling.”
“I’m cold,” she protested.
“That’s not why you are shaking in my arms. Shall I tell you how often I think of you, Lauren? Every day. You are in my thoughts when I wake. When I retire for the evening. When I have my morning tea. When I work. When I ride my estate grounds. When I walk the gardens. Even when I sleep, I dream of you.”
His head dipped toward hers until his hair tumbled into his eyes. It was a glossy, dark chestnut hue, and so thickly luxurious it resembled mink fur. Lauren’s fingers twitched with the sudden urge to brush it back from his brow. To smooth the strands into order and kiss his temples as she did so.
“Look at me, Lauren,” Theodore commanded softly. “Look at me, because I have a proposition for you.”
Their eyes should have clashed, hers hard with wariness, his bright with challenge. Instead, Theodore’s gaze was so warm and caring, Lauren melted just a little.
“What is it?”
“For every bit of mistletoe I find you beneath, I ask that you grant me a kiss, a favor, or a truth. By Christmas, I will have changed your mind about us.”
“There isn’t enough mistletoe in all of England to accomplish that,” she breathed.
Theodore grinned. “If I haven’t convinced you by the end of Christmas Day that our marriage is precisely what you need, then I shall bother you no more. But I have overwhelming confidence in my plan.”
“You are incredibly pompous.”
“Without a doubt. Now, do you agree to the terms? Yes? Good. We begin.”
“No. We do not begin, you ruffian,” Lauren bristled, attempting to push away from the glass window and out of the cage his arms created.
She may not have agreed to his proposal, but her own words indicated compliance. There was no understanding the irresistible pull she experienced with this man. It was irrational and dangerous.
Theodore blocked her escape simply by shifting his body. Once again, he placed a finger beneath her chin, tilting until her head fell back enough to see the bow of greenery above them. Decorating the high arch of the window’s frame, it filled the space between the opened draperies.
A large ball of mistletoe hung from the garland’s ribbon-bedecked center. In the shadows, the plant’s white berries glowed like tiny, bright stars.
“This one doesn’t count, Hawthorne,” Lauren choked out in alarm. Her heart accelerated, galloping twice its normal speed.
Theodore chuckled darkly, fingers sliding into her coiffure, his palm cupping her jawbone. “Oh, sweetheart. This first one counts far more than any of the others to follow. Do you even understand why you will change your mind and open your heart to me again?”
Lauren shook her head in a fractional gesture, frozen as Theodore’s mouth hovered over hers. There was such an agonizing, delicious hesitancy in the gesture that a whimper of longing snagged in her throat. His hands made her dizzy. Made her remember how wonderful it felt being in his arms. How warm it made her when he smiled at her.
Forgetting he once only wanted her for her inheritance was incredibly easy. Remembering that might not have changed was even harder. Had he truly recovered his fortunes?
Theodore’s winter blue eyes burned her, dark lashes shielding his true thoughts as he stroked her skin.
“It’s very simple, my sweet, lonely, future wife. You need me as much as I need you. To fill the void of emptiness. To settle the restlessness in your soul. To quiet and free your desires. Give yourself to me, Lauren, and in return, I’ll give you everything you never knew you wanted.”
Chapter 3
Theodore hadn’t forgotten how sweet she always smelled, like roses and vanilla. How her body curved against his own hard form as though crafted for him, her skin soft and warm as velvet.
But when his lips touched Lauren’s, slanting at an angle which allowed greater access to the depths of her mouth, he realized memories paled in comparison with reality.