Page 147 of Snowbound Surrender

But his gaze quickly traveled upward, and his heart seemed to stop as he took her in from her toes to the top of her head.

She was extraordinary. Breathtaking. He had known it before, of course, but there was something about her at this moment that he couldn’t put a finger on.

Her green dress was wide around her shoulders, the gold embroidered edges bordering her delicate collarbones, joining together at the bodice in the middle, a gold tucker covering most of her breasts, the tops of the tiny mounds showing just enough to tempt him as his eyes rested upon her. A gold braid emphasized her narrow waist, from where the green of her skirts billowed out to wave around her ankles, a gold petticoat peeking out from underneath.

As beautiful as her dress was, it was her face that held him. Her chestnut hair with its highlights of cinnamon was piled high on her head, with pieces falling softly around her face, drawing his attention to her sculpted cheekbones and the hazel eyes that held his. She bit her full bottom lip, the rosy red of it beckoning him to run up the stairs as fast as he was able and take them under his. He held himself back, however, as he felt the presence of servants gathering behind him.

“Beautiful,” he heard Spicer breathe, and if Hunter were able to tear his eyes away from his wife, he would have glared at him with all of the jealousy and possessiveness of a man in love.

For he was. He loved her. Despite the wall of ice she had built around herself, he had come to know this woman over the past couple of days — which was foolish in itself, to fall in love with someone after a two-day acquaintance. And yet, he had. Any frostiness remaining around her was simply there to protect herself. Warmth was what truly emanated from her, was part of her very soul. The few times she had bestowed upon him a glimpse into the woman underneath, she stirred something within him that he had never known was there.

She finally resumed her slow march down the stairs toward him, her eyes never leaving his until she was a step above him.

“You look beautiful,” he finally breathed, and she simply smiled up at him.

“Hunter green.” He heard the whisper behind him, and he turned his head to see Scarlett’s lady’s maid had joined them in the entryway. Did she just wink at him? No, he shook his head. Surely, she wouldn’t. But he certainly didn’t miss the impish smile on her face as she took the hand of his valet and led him out of the room.

“You look beautiful this evening, my lady,” Mrs. Shepherd finally said, breaking the silence, and his butler nodded as well, holding out his arm, upon which their cloaks were draped.

“You best be going or you’ll miss the service,” he said. “We will be along shortly behind you. Your sister awaits in the sleigh in the drive. I know she has invited you for dinner, but if you choose to return home — because of the weather of course — Cook has promised to have a fine Christmas meal prepared.”

“We will be home,” Hunter said, his voice thick.

“Very good, my lord!” His butler and housekeeper looked thrilled, though why they cared, he wasn’t sure.

“What?” Scarlett asked, surprise registering on her face.

“I said we will be home after mass,” he repeated as he steered her out the door. No more games, no more visitors, no more intrusions.

Tonight, his wife would become his.

Scarlett kept stealingglances at her husband throughout the church service. She had been to the village church every Sunday morning without fail since she took up residence at Wintervale, but tonight, the church had been transformed. The copper brick walls had turned a dusky amber with the glow of the candlelight from the sconces that lined the building. The choir’s tones werehushed and melodic, celebrating the joy of the baby born so many years ago, the air filled with the smell of straw upon which a porcelain collection of shepherds, wise men, livestock, and Mary and Joseph themselves gathered around the baby Jesus.

But for Scarlett, it was more than the warm, cheerful atmosphere that surrounded her. It was the man beside her. Something had changed within Hunter, though she wasn’t sure what it was or what had caused it. His usual nonchalant air was gone, replaced by a man with determination written all over his face. His jaw was tight, his cheekbones pronounced, his eyebrows drawn together.

One thingwascertain — she had never seen a more handsome man in her entire life. He may not have celebrated many Christmases before, but he certainly knew how to dress for one.

When she had walked down the stairs of Stone Hall toward him, his blue-green eyes had turned from their usual warmth to a shade darker somehow as they focused so intensely upon her. If only she knew what he was thinking. She wanted to ask, but for once in her life, she was too nervous. For his answer could change everything between them, and she wasn’t altogether sure she wanted that.

In fact, she thought as the congregation rose for the mass to begin, she had no idea what she wanted any longer. A multitude of emotions curdled in her stomach, as she both longed for her husband as well as feared what could happen if he were to leave her.Whenhe would leave her, that was, for he was surely returning to London in due time.

She looked down at her lap, seeing his broad, strong hand just inches from hers. If theirs was a different relationship, she would only have to lift her hand and bring it down upon his for his warm touch to suffuse her. But she couldn’t — not now, despite how much she yearned to be closer to him. As itwas, they were pressed close together in the tight pew due to the filled church, and every time he moved, she had to shut her eyes for a moment as his hard body against hers sent all kinds of shivers through her.

She swallowed hard, looking at him out of the corner of her eye, and used all of her power to focus on the service and not on her husband.

Scarlett couldn’t remembermass ever being quite so long. The moment the last hymn concluded, Hunter jumped up, took her hand, and began leading her to the door as fast as he was able to reasonably move.

“Hunter—” she began, catching sight of Lavinia waving at them from across the church. Wintervale was between Lavinia’s home and the village, so she and Baxter had insisted on collecting them.

Hunter turned and waved to his sister before pointing to the door. Lavinia, wanting to visit, pouted but Hunter shook his head, and Scarlett was amused by the unspoken argument between brother and sister.

Finally, Lavinia threw up her hands, took her husband by the arm, and led him to the door while Hunter had already pulled Scarlett through and was donning his fur hat.

“Hunter!” she admonished him once she finally caught up with the two of them, pushing up her glasses as they had apparently fallen down her nose in her haste to follow after them. “What is the rush? I was simply speaking with?—”

“We have to get home.”

“Whatever for?”