Page 82 of Mistletoe and Christmas Kisses

Tanner stepped back, his gaze dropping to his feet. He slipped his arm from his sling and stooped, extricating the silver frames from the dirt. The wind lifted his hair, whipped it against his face.

“Tell me you didn’t come out the back door,” she said, disturbed to find her voice shaking as much as her body.

He cocked a brow, paused while cleaning her spectacles against his sleeve. “How else do you think I got out here?”

Dear God, she wanted to hurt him. Wipe that taunting smirk from his lips; lower his hitched brow with her fist. Before she’d met him, she never once imagined hitting a man, kicking him...well, in the nether region. “My mother, did you see my mother?” Though it made her feel like a recalcitrant child, Kate nonetheless implored: say no, please say no.

“See her? Why, she’s holding my cheroot for me.”

Fury ripped through Kate. “I hate you,” she screamed and rushed at him, slamming her fist into his shoulder. She heard his grunt of pain as they stumbled to the ground. Pummeling his chest, she closed in on his neck, teeth bared and snapping. She gasped for breath and flailed. He captured her legs between his, halting her struggles. As black began to spot her vision, she dropped her head to his shoulder and tried to draw whatever air her corset would allow into her lungs.

“Easy, Kat. Easy, sweetheart. Jesus, I was only joking,” she thought he said.

The air worked its magic, confusion flowing out, awareness flowing in. Awareness of his body pressing into hers from knee to chest. His warm breath cuffing her cheek, his solid heartbeat drumming against her own. She turned her face into the grass, smelled dirt and winter and him. “I hate you,” she said, voice breaking for real this time.

His arms tensed, his chest hitched, mid-breath. “Sometimes” —his voice broke and he tried again— “sometimes I hate you, too, you little bitch.”

She bit the inside of her cheek and tasted blood, concentrated on it. Finally, this pain outweighed any other. Outweighed the sensation of him lying atop her; but it was not enough to obliterate the desire spiraling through her body. “Get off me.”

Tanner sighed and finally, his weight lifted. Kate rolled her head and blinked as sunlight spilled into her eyes. He was poised above her, elbows braced, gaze fixed on her face. She dug her backbone into the ground to escape. A moist chill seeped through wool, and she shivered.

“What’s wrong with you? Running out in the cold in this skimpy getup?” His chest rose and fell, air surging from his lips. “Are you truly this distressed to find you let a better prospect than your beloved Crawford get away?”

“Where did you get the idiotic idea I let you go? Your duplicity forced us apart.”

“Well, you didn’t grieve for long.”

Grieve? For months, every time she closed her eyes, images of Tanner were there. Riding through the downtown streets, his hair gleaming as richly as his sorrel’s dark coat. Daring her to make love in a field of wildflowers along the banks of the James River. Teaching her to play chess and grinning with delight the first time she beat him. Winking at her across a crowded ballroom, a circle of admirers surrounding him, the gentle pleasure curving his lips reserved for her.

Or so she had believed.

Foolish belief. Foolish woman.

She jerked beneath him, placed her hands against his chest, and shoved. “Get off me, Tanner. Now.”

He shook his head and shifted, settling between her thighs.

Long and hard…and hot.

“I understand your objective, Mr. Barkley,” she whispered.

“Hmm, do you, Kat?” Another devastating shift of his body.

“You want to remind me.” She chewed at her bottom lip to keep from pressing her mouth to the pulse in his neck. Oh, to sink her teeth in—

He followed the movement, lids slipping low, masking the gleam in his eyes.

No, she thought, hunger sweeping her. A raw, incorrigible hunger she did not want to experience again. Had not expected to experience again. A rapid pulse began, in her stomach, and lower, between her legs. While she waited for him to move, the pulse steadied into an appallingly even rhythm. Desperate, she rolled her hips, bucked once, twice.

Tanner stayed, steadfast and as hard as a rock.

Dipping his head, he said near her ear, “Remember the first time I kissed you?” He laughed, his breath warming her cheek. “The vacant storeroom at the Governor’s Ball.” He nipped at the edge of her jaw. “We slipped away, into that darkened corner.” Sucking her skin between his teeth, a groan slipped from his throat. “That was when I realized how tall you were. An astonishing realization.” He ground his hips against hers. “We fit well together, Kat. A perfect fit.”

She expelled a sigh. “I forgot you two years ago. I forgot everything.”

He lifted his head, his eyes glowing like sapphires. "Forgotten?” Angry now, his hands tangled in her hair, turning her head as he fit his mouth to hers.

Dear God, if only she had forgotten. And even if she had, his touch awakened the world. He nudged her thighs apart, searching for grooves he’d chiseled long ago. “Open for me, Princess. I want to kiss you, really kiss you. God, I’ve missed this. Missed you.”