Page 8 of Lady Elizabeth’s Winter Stranger

The hot chestnuts were welcome. Elizabeth hadn’t stopped to eat before she left the Lorimer Square house in such a temper.

And it was a long time since her bread and cheese in the coach early this morning.

Even more welcome was the heat radiating from the chestnut seller’s cart.

Elizabeth was dressed for the weather, but that didn’t mean she said no to extending her hands toward a nice warm brazier.

“That was lovely. Thank you.” She stretched her booted feet out on the snow in front of her, appreciating her thick woolen stockings.

They’d finished their chestnuts sitting on a bench in a sheltered corner of the park.

Tom had cleared the snow from the seat and dried it off with his handkerchief.

Elizabeth’s cape, gown and petticoats saved her from feeling the chill of the wood beneath her.

“I’ve become a regular customer since I came back to London a few days ago.

” Tom plucked the crumpled paper from her fingers and crushed it into the pocket of his greatcoat.

He took off his hat and set it on the bench beside him.

The gesture expressed a purposefulness that she couldn’t mistake. A thrill coiled down her backbone.

“You’ve been away?” she asked, before she remembered that if she refused to tell him about herself, it hardly seemed fair to interrogate him.

“Yes,” he said with a contented sigh, sliding his arm around her as if he’d been doing it for years. “I’d forgotten how charming old England can be. Or at least some of its citizens.”

Elizabeth tried to tell herself that she relaxed back into his embrace because it was cold and he was alluringly warm. But that explanation smacked of odious coyness. She snuggled up to Tom because she wanted to be close to him. Odd that a stranger should make her feel so safe and cherished.

“This has turned out to be a lovely Christmas,” he murmured.

“Yes, it has.” Which was something that she hadn’t expected to be saying a couple of hours ago.

For a delightful interval, they sat in silence.

This secluded bower provided appealing privacy, as if they inhabited a magic bubble separate from the world and its concerns.

While that might be an illusion, it was a devilish appealing one.

Every so often, people passed behind the holly hedge that concealed them from the rest of the park.

A robin in search of lunch fluttered around them.

She released a sigh even more extended than Tom’s. Was her situation quite as dire as her initial panic made it seem? She wasn’t beaten yet. Life offered Elizabeth Tierney more than inept suitors and temperamental great-aunts. In fact, right now, life was overflowing with tantalizing possibilities.

“Feeling better?” Tom asked softly.

She turned to regard him. When they’d met, he’d noticed how upset she was, but he’d been tactful enough not to pry after she’d brushed off his questions. “Yes, I do.”

He ran one gloved finger down the side of her face. The gesture conveyed tenderness rather than predatory intentions. That vulnerable place inside her went squidgy with delight. He really had the most bizarre effect on her internal organs.

“When we met, you looked ready to pitch yourself headfirst into the Serpentine.”

So far, they hadn’t ventured toward the lake in that part of the park. “I suspect it’s frozen over.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I’d just had some unwelcome news.” What a wishy-washy way to describe a letter that threatened to turn her life upside down.

“I’m sorry. That’s tough at Christmas.”

Her lips tightened. “It would be tough whenever it arrived.”

“Can I help?”

“You have already.” She summoned up a smile. “I’m glad you came to my rescue.”

“So am I.”

For a long moment, she stared into silvery eyes that held a whole world of feeling. Warmth. Empathy. Interest. Interest that sharpened into sudden intent in the time it took him to blink.

Without rushing, he angled toward her and his hold around her shoulders firmed. In spite of his unmistakable desire, he remained tactful. He gave her time to pull away if she wanted to. She appreciated his consideration, but right now, she hungered for the touch of his lips.

Anyway, another, more thorough kiss had loomed ever since that unsatisfying peck before he’d rescued Cyril. It was as inevitable as tomorrow’s sunrise.

So Elizabeth tilted her head up and closed her eyes, as she leaned into that powerful chest.

On a hum of approval, he brushed his lips across hers. It was akin to the chaste kiss that he’d given her under the oak tree. Over in a second. The difference was that this time, the kiss asked a question. An inquiry as to whether she wanted more.

She did.

When he shifted away far too soon, a muffled murmur of frustration escaped her. Tom reached out to cradle the side of her face in one gloved hand.

Before his head descended once more, she had a chance to snatch a breath. At last his lips clung, summoning the most glorious sensations. When his mouth touched hers, her whole body dissolved into a puddle of delight.

He sucked gently at her upper lip and grazed his teeth against the lower one.

A shiver of pleasure rippled through her.

That delicious masculine scent overwhelmed her senses.

A smoky trace of roast chestnuts flavored his kiss.

Chestnuts and something that was all Tom.

Heat pooled in the pit of her stomach, set up a restless swirl in her blood.

Elizabeth murmured encouragement as the pressure deepened. Wanting more, she slid one hand up his woolen greatcoat to clasp his shoulder. She moved her lips against his, pursing them to intensify the contact.

When he pulled away, she released a sigh of disappointment and opened her eyes. “Why did you stop?”

His lips, sleek from the contact with hers, curved in a smile that conveyed endless pleasure in her. “I don’t want to make assumptions.”

“You may assume that I want to kiss you.”

His gaze narrowed on her lips. “Then I’m blessed among men.”

His dry remark evoked a huff of amusement that faded against his lips.

This time, he kissed her with more intent.

Nibbling along the seam of her lips, using his tongue to tease the corners.

When his teeth grazed her again, she gasped and his tongue slipped into her mouth on a foray that felt like another question.

Arousal stirred her blood and made her nestle closer. The second time his tongue slid between her lips, he lingered to luxuriate in her taste.

She took longer to come back to reality from that kiss. Her eyelids felt weighted down, as she slowly opened them and pulled away far enough to focus on his features. He, too, looked lost in wonder, as if during the last few minutes, the earth beneath them had moved on its axis.

“That was…nice,” she said. The scale of that understatement was farcical. “Nice” was a word one used for a tasty lunch or a sunny day. Tom’s kiss had shaken her world.

“It was indeed.” The corners of Tom’s lips deepened in amusement. “Can I do more to keep you from the cold, cold snow?”

She stiffened. “I don’t—”

Fondness braided his laugh in a way that made her pulses dance. “I know you aren’t committing to more than kisses.” He paused. “Anyway it’s too cold for seduction.”

Her brief spurt of fear drained away. “I don’t feel cold when you kiss me,” she admitted.

His eyes brightened as he stroked her hair. “Then it’s my Christian duty to kiss you again.”

This time, she laughed. “And it’s Christmas as well.”

“Yes, by all means, let’s blame Christmas.”

This time, his kiss was more commanding. He held her closer and after her lips opened to his, the kiss caught fire. When his tongue tangled with hers, she responded. For an immeasurable interval, the sensual duel continued.

Elizabeth was breathless when he raised his head to pepper her face with a rain of little kisses.

Kisses across her chin and cheeks and brow and nose.

Each sparking a delight that stoked the heat flaring inside her.

Her heart was pounding, and she’d never felt so alive.

Every sense worked at full stretch to capture this extraordinary experience.

She’d been kissed before. When she was sixteen, she and Alexander Comerford had conducted a secret flirtation that involved far too many torrid embraces in the woods at Sander Hall.

But once that summer was done, her ardor for the future Lord Lumsden was done as well.

Her adolescent passion left only a friendly interest behind.

A good thing, given Alexander was now married to one of her best friends.

In the years since, a couple of men had defied propriety and kissed her. Some with her cooperation, some without. When she’d cooperated, she found the experience pleasant, but nothing more. None of those kisses came near to igniting the heat that Alexander had. Until now. Until Tom.

Tom’s kisses swept her into a new universe, conjured up sensations that she had no idea existed. When his lips touched hers, her soul took flight.

The moment that his lips returned to hers, she melted against him and her hands raked through his thick, black hair. Her bosom swelled against her bodice, while a heavy weight settled in the pit of her stomach. An aching, longing, hungry weight.

It was a huge, unprecedented reaction to a kiss. Goodness, imagine if he set out to seduce her. She’d be helpless against his attractions.

He shifted along the seat away from her. In visible torment, he shut his eyes and ran a shaking hand through his messy hair. “Don’t look at me like that.”

Elizabeth blushed, guessing that her expression must betray the wanton direction of her thoughts. “We should stop.”