Page 35 of A Shop Girl’s Christmas (Pennington’s Department Store #3)

The moment Stephen’s lips touched Cornelia’s, a rush of possessiveness came over him. Her lips were hot and inviting, her sexual allure potent. Somehow, he managed to keep his feet on the ground and his hands on her waist. Never in his life had he felt such an instant, intoxicating power. He pulled her closer and she tilted her head to deepen their kiss.

Did she feel it, too? The strength that rippled between them? The understanding?

Christ, was he losing his mind?

He abruptly pulled back and her eyes were wide with worry as she stared at him.

‘What is it?’ She looked left and right. ‘Did someone come in?’

Trying and failing to turn away from her wonderful blue eyes, Stephen stepped back and pushed his hand into his hair. ‘I have no idea what just happened.’

She smiled. ‘If there’s a need to explain, then you have no business kissing a woman that way.’

His heart slowed. ‘You know what I mean. I didn’t think… I presumed…’ He shook his head, feeling like an inarticulate fool. ‘I’m not sure kissing you was such a good idea.’

The light in her eyes dimmed as her smile dissolved. ‘Oh, I see.’

The soft disappointment in her voice hit him like a punch to the gut and he quickly took her hand. ‘Cornelia—’

‘It’s fine. You need not explain yourself.’ She pulled her hand from his, fire sparking once more in her eyes. ‘But I’m glad you kissed me. If nothing else, it’s proved what I’ve thought true for a while.’

He swallowed, itching to touch her, caress her, feel her. ‘Which is?’

‘That you came to Pennington’s for a reason. I met you for a reason.’

That was it exactly.

And now his life had been turned on its axis.

He was a man of commitment, loyalty and integrity. Cornelia mattered to him. To her family. And now to Elizabeth and Joseph Carter.

Stepping closer, he brushed a fallen curl from her cheek, moved his thumb across her soft, bottom lip. ‘I don’t regret kissing you.’ He dipped his head and kissed her lightly, the air burning with intent and purpose. ‘I regret I’m not the man you need. The man who can give you all you deserve. I’m a security watchman, Cornelia. A man who may be asked to leave the police force permanently.’

‘Why?’ She cupped his jaw, sympathy shining in her eyes. ‘What happened, Stephen?’

His pulse thudded in his ears, the glass around them seeming to crack and splinter to let in the cold, night air. How could he tell her about the murders? How could he bear to see the disappointment in her eyes?

He clenched his jaw. ‘I’m not the right man for you, even if you were to ever come to want me. Believe that, please.’

‘But—’

‘My life is not the same as yours. The things I’ve seen. The things I’ve done…’ He shook his head, sickness coiling in the pit of his stomach. To hold and kiss her and then let her go was agony, but he had to, lest he lose the fragile hold he had on any chance of making a new life. A life free from responsibility. Culpability. ‘It’s too much to expect—’

‘Don’t.’

The sharpness of her tone silenced him.

Her eyes blazed with determination, her cheeks aflame with irritation. ‘Don’t make choices for me. Don’t tell me what I need or what I want. This is my life, Stephen. Mine. And I intend to live it just as I want from now on. No rules from anyone but my children.’

He closed his eyes. ‘I apologise. The last thing I wanted was for you to think—’

‘How will you be spending Christmas?’

Surprised by her question, he frowned and stepped back. ‘Most likely alone. My mother has been invited to her closest friend’s, which is good. I’d rather be on my own.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I am better off that way.’

‘Is that so?’

‘Yes.’

She crossed her arms. ‘Well, I’m sorry, but I refuse to accept that and ask that you consider spending Christmas with me and my family. In Oxfordshire.’

Panic and claustrophobia rose on a wave inside him. ‘But we barely know one another.’

‘Which is exactly why I want you to come. It’s just for a few days. Lawrence has invited Elizabeth and Joseph Carter to join us, too. It will be the perfect opportunity for us to get to know each other, to get to know them. Wouldn’t it help if you could gain Joseph and Elizabeth’s trust so you could look for Lillian’s killer in your own way? On your own terms?’ Her eyes softened. ‘Won’t you at least think about it?’

Indecision wracked him. Was she really only asking because of Elizabeth Pennington and Carter? Was the memory of how their lips fused so easily, the fire that was so effortlessly ignited between them, not branded in her mind, as it was in his?

Of course, it wasn’t. She had been married, had children. He needed no further proof that her bastard of an ex-husband had made love to her. No doubt there was time when she was admired and courted all over the city as a young and beautiful woman.

Everything was about the case. Anything else he’d seen in her eyes was his own imagining… his own hoping.

He turned away from her and paced a circle.

Yet, he couldn’t think of anyone he’d rather spend Christmas with. But he wouldn’t be alone with Cornelia. He’d be with her family, her extended family, and his employers.

A dangerous energy slowly hummed deep inside him. What did he have to lose by spending Christmas with the Carters? He could study them, find out more about Lillian. If he was at Culford Manor, there was little chance of Joseph Carter escaping Stephen’s notice to disappear and do something foolish.

She stared at him, eyebrows arched. ‘Well?’

‘It seems madness to even consider—’

‘What did you discover when you went to Pulteney Bridge?’ She lowered her voice and led him to a settee at the side of the glasshouse. ‘Are you any closer to finding who might have been responsible for Lillian’s death?’

Stephen sat and gripped his hands, staring at the patch of carpet between his feet. How much did he tell her? He was aware that she was a woman on a mission to prove herself. A mission inspired by an ex-husband who had no appreciation of just how strong a woman he had married.

He met her intense stare. All amiability and desire had vanished from her eyes, leaving only curiosity.

‘My contact took me to where the possible suspect can often be found. He’s sleeping rough by the river edge. I don’t have a name or anything more than hearsay, but my informant told me that Lillian Carter wasn’t the only woman killed around those parts.’

‘There have been more murders? My God.’

‘I was shocked, too. I’ve decided to speak to my old inspector at Scotland Yard and ask if he’d be willing to do some digging for me. If we can find more links between Lillian’s death and the others, then we may know more about the type of person we’re looking for.’ He rubbed his jaw. ‘I hope to God it doesn’t turn out to be someone who has killed multiple times. I’m worried about what we’ve got ourselves involved in, but it’s too late for me to turn back now. Joseph Carter needs to know that I’ll see this through to the end.’

‘I agree. Do you still think it’s fair for us to keep any progress from him and Elizabeth?’ She looked towards the door as though the Carters might appear at any moment. ‘I’m sure neither of them know about the other murders. One of them would’ve given that information to you if they’d known. I’m convinced Esther invited the Carters to spend Christmas with us to keep Joseph away from Bath for a few days. Elizabeth is desperate for him to be happy. For them to try for a family.’

Stephen shook his head. ‘If the look in his eyes when he talks about Lillian is anything to go by, I can’t see that being a possibility anytime soon. It’s clear how much he loves Elizabeth, but the man is suffering. Deeply.’

She entwined her fingers in his, holding them tight. ‘Come to Culford Manor. Spend Christmas with me. With Elizabeth and Joseph.’

He scrambled for an excuse, any excuse, not to go, but… he wanted to be with her.

Slowly, he nodded, lifted her hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. ‘Christmas at Culford, it is.’