Page 14 of One Naughty Christmas Night

Opening her mouth to reply, she hesitated. Closing it again, she laid her head on his chest and drifted off to his heartbeat in her ear.

Heath lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling. His mind, however, wasn’t in his room. It was in Victoria’s. In her bed. Entangled with her, his fingers bringing her pleasure.

He waited until Victoria was sleeping, tucking her in. Then he left the room.

He rushed back to his room to relieve himself, his body still rock hard from their encounter, the fact that he’d done so the last two days not lost on him.

A curse slipped past his lips.

What the hell do you think you’re doing?

“Losing my mind apparently,” he said.

Why would he promise to show her the meaning of passion?

Was it simply because of their friendship? That he wanted to protect her from other men?

Victoria’s face appeared on the ceiling, her green eyes dark with desire as they stared back at him.

Deep down, he did want to protect her from having any bad experiences, but he felt like he failed with Lord Bastion.

Uttering a curse, he tossed the covers to the side and got out of bed.

Heading to the armoire, he gathered his outfit to wear for the day.

Satisfied with his choice, he checked himself once more in the mirror before he left the room and headed down for breakfast.

He arrived downstairs a few minutes later, all the parents at the table already.

“Good morning Heath,” his mother said, reaching out for a hug.

“Good morning, Mother,” he said, giving her a quick hug, then heading for the sideboard.

“Heath, have you seen Victoria this morning?” Lady Louisa Murray, Victoria’s mother, asked him.

“I haven’t, but I’m sure she’ll be down soon,” he replied.

“And here I am,” Victoria stated, coming through the door.

Her lips widened into a smile at the appearance of her daughter.

He gave Louisa a quick hug, and she patted his cheek. He removed himself from her mother’s embrace and went back to breakfast.

“Good morning, Victoria.”

“Good morning, Mama,” she replied, directing a small curtsy to his parents before heading to get breakfast.

Victoria wore a blush-colored morning dress, the color a complement to her soft pink skin.

The image of her beneath him, writhing in desire flashed in his mind, and he coughed, a strangled sound wrenched from him.

“Heath, are you all right?” his father asked, clapping him on the back.

The food dislodged, and he swallowed.

“Heath, are you all right, dear?” his mother asked.

“I’m fine, Mother,” he replied, taking a few sips of his tea.