Page 5 of A Hellion’s Christmas Kiss (Connected By a Kiss #8)

Four

R osella and Lucian carefully strung the boughs of holly along the banister of the grand staircase. They worked mostly in silence, and Rosella struggled to find a way to encourage him to speak. She ought to be grateful they were not bickering, but mere peaceful accord was not enough. Rosella longed for more—much more. She wanted to be the love of his life, though she realized with a pang that such a wish might never come to fruition.

“I believe we have secured everything,” Lucian said, stepping back to inspect their work.

“It appears so,” she agreed, taking a step back as well.

The banister looked lovely with the boughs of holly elegantly draped along the sides. Rosella admired their handiwork but could not shake the wistful thought that her life could not be fixed as easily as a string of greenery. Why couldn’t life be simpler? She sighed, the weight of her unspoken feelings pressing on her chest.

“Do you think they expect us to create more decorations?” Lucian asked, breaking the silence.

Rosella shrugged. “I am not sure. We could, though I doubt anyone has noticed we left the sitting room.”

“They did seem quite keen on this project, yet they have not bothered to check on our progress,” Lucian mused, a slight frown creasing his brow.

“It’s probably best not to concern yourself with their motives,” Rosella said carefully. “I suspect we might not like what they hoped to achieve.”

“Oh?” He lifted an inquisitive brow. “And what do you think they are trying to accomplish?”

Rosella hesitated. She suspected her mother was orchestrating some grand scheme, but she did not want to voice her suspicions. Revealing her mother’s potential matchmaking efforts might embarrass him—or worse, make him retreat entirely. “I could not say for certain,” she finally replied, keeping her tone light. “But considering how often we have bickered in the past…”

“They might be hoping we will learn to interact more civilly.” He frowned again. “Though we did not need a decorating scheme to accomplish that. We have already settled things between us.”

Rosella smiled faintly. “We know that, but they are not privy to our truce.”

Lucian tilted his head, his expression thoughtful. “True enough. If that was their intent, at least we have given them no cause for worry. We have not argued once.”

Why did that make her feel sad? Did she actually miss their bickering? Perhaps a little. At least when they argued, there had been a spark—a semblance of passion. Now, there was a stilted distance between them, a void she could not seem to cross. She was close to him, but at the same time, impossibly far away. It was maddening. “If that is the measure of success, they have nothing to fret over,” she said, an idea sparking in her mind. “Why don’t we leave off the decorating and find something else to occupy ourselves with?”

“And what do you suggest we do instead?” he asked, his curiosity piqued.

“We could play a game,” she offered. “That sounds far more entertaining than stringing more holly.”

Lucian tapped his chin thoughtfully, then smiled. “Do you have a particular game in mind?”

Her planning hadn’t extended that far, and she hesitated. “Not exactly,” she admitted. “But that’s part of the fun, isn’t it? Let’s see what the game room has to offer. I doubt anyone else is in there right now.”

He nodded. “Very well. Let’s go.” He motioned for her to lead the way, then fell into step beside her. When they reached the game room, he pushed the door open and held it for her. “Now that we are here, what are our options?”

“There is always billiards,” she suggested.

“A fine choice,” he said, his lips twitching into a smile. “Do you know how to play?”

“A little,” she confessed. “Asher taught me, but I am not very good. I have hardly practiced and can’t shoot with much accuracy.”

“I can help with that,” he offered. “If you are willing to let me show you.”

Rosella’s heart fluttered. She would do anything if it meant spending more time with him. If Lucian wanted to teach her, she would gladly learn. “All right,” she agreed. “Let’s play.”

Lucian moved to the table and began gathering the items they needed to play. He retrieved the necessary balls—two white and one red—and chose a cue stick from the rack. Handing it to her, he asked, “I trust you know the basic rules?”

“I do,” she confirmed.

“Good,” he said, motioning toward the table. “We will start with something simple. Try to hit the red ball into a pocket without committing a hazard.”

Rosella leaned over the table, aligning her cue stick as best she could. Drawing back, she struck the white ball, but it spun miserably, missing the red ball entirely and rolling straight into a pocket. She sighed, straightening. “I told you I was terrible.”

“And that is why I am here,” he said with a grin. “To help you improve.”

He reset the balls on the table, his movements calm and deliberate. “Line it up as you did before,” he instructed, “but do not take the shot until I say.”

Rosella complied, leaning over the table once more. Her breath caught when Lucian stepped behind her, placing his hands over hers to guide her grip. His body pressed lightly against hers, and warmth flooded her cheeks. This was…scandalous. And yet, she could not bring herself to care.

“What are you doing?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Helping you,” he murmured, his tone low and smooth. “Hold steady, darling. I’ve got you.”

Her heart raced as he prepared to guide her movements. For a fleeting moment, the game of billiards became utterly irrelevant. All that mattered was Lucian—his nearness, his touch, and the hope that perhaps, just perhaps, he felt the same longing she did. Still she did not move. He had not told her to strike the ball, and she feared even when he did she would be unable to comply. She was that riveted by him, and the potential for something far more than a mere game of billiards could offer her.

Lucian took a deep breath, drawing in her delicate scent. His body stirred, and he feared she might feel the evidence of his arousal if he pressed too close. The last thing he wanted was to frighten her. But he wanted her—desperately. Leaning down, he whispered near her ear, his voice low and rough. “I am going to guide your stroke so you can feel the proper movement.” He barely cared about the billiards game. This was for her—an excuse to be near her, to hold her in the only way he dared. “Do not fight me. Just let it happen.”

He wondered if he was asking too much.

“All right,” she said, her voice slightly breathless.

Placing his hands over hers, Lucian slowly guided the cue stick back, then slid it forward across the table. The white ball rolled smoothly, striking the red ball and sending it into the pocket. “There,” he said, stepping back reluctantly. Already, he mourned the loss of her warmth against him and wished he had an excuse to pull her close again. He retrieved the balls and reset them on the table. “Now, try it again on your own.”

Rosella approached the table with renewed confidence. She leaned over, focused intently, and took her shot. The white ball glided across the table and struck the red ball, which dropped cleanly into the pocket. She grinned triumphantly. “I did it!”

“You did, darling,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. He swallowed hard, suppressing a groan as his desire for her swelled.

Lucian was impressed by her quick progress, though a small part of him was disappointed. He had hoped she might require more of his assistance—more moments of closeness. “How did you not learn this already?” he asked, his tone teasing. “I thought you said your brother taught you.”

“He did,” she replied with a shrug. “But clearly, he is not as good a teacher as you.”

He chuckled. “Do you want to play a full game, or would you prefer more lessons?” He secretly hoped she would choose the latter. He relished the excuse to remain close to her.

“I think we can play,” she said, her lips curving into a soft smile. “I know the rules, and the only way I will improve is to practice.”

“Are you certain?” His tone held a hint of persuasion. “I do not mind taking more time to show you the finer points.” Truthfully, he longed to teach her far more than billiards. He wanted to strip away the layers of propriety between them, to kiss every inch of her soft, enticing skin, and make her his. Thoughts of her consumed him day and night, tormenting him with unfulfilled desire.

“I am certain,” she said, her smile deepening. “Perhaps we could make it more interesting. Do you feel like placing a wager?”

“No,” he replied firmly. “I am not about to take advantage of your inexperience. That would not be very sporting.” His lips twitched as he fought a smile. As tempting as it was to wager for a kiss, Lucian could not bring himself to exploit her lack of skill.

“Fair enough,” she agreed. “What shall we play to?”

“We will keep it simple—first to six points wins,” he suggested. “It is more of a practice game.”

“That sounds reasonable,” she said, nodding. “Perhaps we can play for a higher total another time.” There was a wistfulness in her expression, and he longed to know her thoughts. What was going on in that beautiful head of hers? Did she wish for more between them as he did?

“You may go first,” he offered, confident in his own abilities. Letting her start gave her a slight advantage.

Rosella leaned over the table, her cue stick poised to strike. The white ball rolled forward, hitting the red ball cleanly and sinking it into the pocket. She beamed. “I did it!”

“You did, darling,” he said softly, barely containing his longing.

They took turns, the game proceeding far more slowly than he anticipated. Neither of them managed to reach six points quickly. Lucian currently had two points, but his focus was elsewhere—on her. Her presence distracted him so thoroughly that he could not muster his usual skill. Her beauty, her laughter, the graceful curve of her neck—everything about her captivated him. He breathed a sigh of relief when he managed a difficult shot, earning another two points.

Rosella stepped up to the table, her cue stick in hand. She needed three points to win. Her shot sent the white ball rolling toward the red, but the hit lacked power. The red ball spun aimlessly before coming to a stop. She sighed in frustration. “Oh dear. That is not what I intended at all.”

Lucian smiled warmly. “It is all right, darling,” he said, his voice gentle. “You will improve in time.” He reached for her cue stick, placing it back on the rack. The game no longer interested him—not when he was so close to her, craving her attention. “Let’s call it a draw.”

“A draw?” she echoed. “What shall we do now?”

He had a few ideas—each one involving her in his arms, her lips on his, and a bed nearby. But he could not voice such scandalous thoughts. Instead, he forced a smile and said, “Perhaps we should return to our chambers to prepare for dinner. The others will be waiting for us.”

The words tasted bitter on his tongue. He had wanted to confess his feelings, to lay his heart bare. But the timing was not right. Not yet. Slowly, Rosella nodded, and they left the game room together in silence.

Lucian’s mind swirled with emotions as they walked. Before this Christmastide gathering ended, he would tell her the truth. He could only hope she would receive his confession with an open heart and that, by some miracle, she might love him in return, but he had to prepare himself for the possibility of heartbreak…