Page 15 of His Wicked Little Christmas
Then he would be free to marry without worry he’d left anyone behind, and she would be free to never marry again.
For a potentially life-changing event, this dinner party wasn’t any better than the last.
The lady was lovely. Excellent teeth and nice hair. Lavinia, Dex silently asked and sent a frowning glance into his wineglass. Lydia? Not that he could address her this casually even if they were appraising each other like horses at auction. He wouldn’t be surprised if Viscount Lindley asked to see his molars. Dex threaded his fingers through his hair and gave the strands an exasperated tug.Lord, he was surviving on little sleep and too many damn questions he couldn’t answer. Dex thought of his father rapidly failing in his massive tester bed at Markham Manor and realized the solution to his Twelfth Night promise did not reside in Georgie’s leased dining room.
Unless you counted Georgie, and Dex didn’t think he could.
She seemed anxious for this match to take.
The veranda door opened, and he stumbled back into the shadows, a rough smack against chilled stone.
“Dexter Reed Munro, you’d better come out right now!” Georgie said in an angry hiss.
Dex finished his wine, placing the glass on the ledge at his side. When Georgie stalked past him, he slipped his arm around her waist and tugged her into the darkened alcove. “Don’t scream,” he said in her ear, his body moving in to protect her from the fierce wind. “It’s me.”
Her breath caught, her arms clenching. “I’m going to murder you.” She tipped her head, gazing at him from a circle of fox fur and gold trim. “A disappearing marquess is not reassuring, Dex. She’ll think you don’t want her.”
“I don’t.”
Her curse was one he was surprised she knew.
“You’re wearing the cape,” he mumbled like a man waking from a dream. His world dissolved into shades of blue and silver, a winter wonderland. “This was the real Christmas present, a little early. The stone was an impulsive gesture.”
Her mouth kicked, just the one side, so delightful a response his knees weakened.
“I don’t want her,” he echoed on a rushed breath, knowing he might as well be honest since Georgie was already mad about the entire evening. “I’m sorry. I know I must let my father know by Twelfth Night, and I’m running out of time, but Lydia wasn’t the one for me.”
“Letitia.” With a sigh, she let her head fall against the stone, her eyes drifting closed. Her breath fogged the air, tepid gusts melting over his skin. “I told them you received a note about your father and had to rush home. Apologies were made, ones befitting a duke.”
“It seems I’m not ready for polite society. Better with a pickax and a pile of rocks, as you said. Beneath the titles, there lies a humble geologist, though no one wants to believe it.”
“I don’t think I can help you with this,” she whispered and lowered her gaze. “Your search for a duchess.”
“Because I’m making it difficult?”
She paused for so long his ears started to sting from the cold. He had to get them inside before they froze to death.
“I would call it a conflict of interest,” she finally murmured.
Blowing out a dumbfounded breath, Dex grabbed Georgie’s hand and tugged her behind him through the slush, back into the house and into the first vacant room, which happened to be a crampedlinen closet. Pushing her inside, he closed the door and leaned against it, darkness swallowing them. “We’re not leaving this cupboard until you explain your comment.”
“You said you wanted me.” He heard her swallow, throat clicking. She exhaled softly, licked her lips if he wasn’t mistaken. “The other day, by the carriage.”
Like he didn’t remember slicing a vein and bleeding in front of her?
He walked forward, bumping her back into the shelves. Grasping her hips, he drew her against his body, where it wasveryapparent he wanted her. A flash decision, he resolved to quit hiding the way he felt about her. He only had pride to lose, which wasn’t much when compared to losing her. “I remember. I did. Ido.”
She gasped at the blatant feel of him, arching her back, a languid abrasion which made everything worse. “I can’t think when you’re touching me like this.”
“And your point is…?” His hands curled around her waist as he pulled her deeper into the curve of his body. She wiggled with a staccato sound of pleasure, silky softness settling against his pulsing hardness. Regrettably, he was fast losing his focus.Take her, his body shouted while his mind grappled with more sensible options. “Hold a sec. I’ve forgotten my question.”
“Oh bloody fine, Dex,” she whispered, bounced up on her toes and slanted her lips over his.
They staggered into each other, seeking, awkward, off-balance. Then he lifted his hands to cradle her head, tipped his and…suddenly it was perfect. She moaned when they found the fit, and he drew the rushing cry into his mouth, because even ten seconds out, he’d never experienced a kiss like it. Hand sliding to the back of her neck, he bent over her, deepening the exchange, his tongue circling, mating, engaging. His other arm went low, where he lifted her from her slippers and against him. Her body strained, seeking. Closeness, closure. The scent of lavender and starched linen and Georgie wove a silken web around his awareness until he felt unattached, floating in space.
She shoved his chest, pushing him away from her and into the door. “A deal, Dex,” she said, her breathlessness pleasing him to no end. “A pact. We make it here, agreed upon…by both parties.”
He dropped his hands to her shoulders, slid them down her arms. Linking their fingers, he pulled her into him, whispered against her lips, “Do I need my solicitor for this negotiation?”