Page 149 of Snowbound Surrender

Her lips twitched at his suggestion, but she nodded, and if he didn’t know better, he could have sworn that a blush rose in her cheeks. He held his arm out, and she slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, her long, slender fingers gripping his upper arm.

Hunter looked down at the top of her head, but all he could see were her curled tresses as she kept her face turned awayfrom him, facing out toward the feast that awaited. The only noise was the sound of their booted feet on the oak floor as they walked toward the table. Through the window, stars twinkled in the dark sky overhead, creating a shimmering backdrop on this Christmas night.

Hunter pulled out Scarlett’s seat, purposely brushing his fingertips along the satiny skin of the back of her neck as he pushed her chair in slightly behind her, and he could feel her shiver underneath his touch, though she said nothing.

When he took his seat, he brought his chair in even closer to her so that their knees rested against each other, his foot sitting between hers. She chewed her lip, her eyes flitting from one side to the other, and he could sense her trying to decide what to do next. She had an unconscious tendency to worry strands of hair round and round her fingers, despite what it did to the state of whichever hairstyle he was sure her maid had painstakingly concocted. Now, she pulled on the strands that were falling low, nearly to her breasts, the tops of which were peeking out of her bodice, beckoning to him. Clearly, she had no idea what she was doing to him.

Finally her spicy eyes became hooded, and it seemed that her body won the internal war being waged within her as she leaned on her elbows closer toward him.

“So … Hunter,” she said slowly, raising her eyes to meet his. “What do you think of Christmas so far?”

“I think,” he said, reaching out to pick up the wine which had been waiting in front of him, and satisfaction coursed through him when he saw her swallow as she watched his fingers rub the edge of the glass. “It has been altogether surprising,” he said.

“You seem … different tonight,” she said somewhat nervously.

He sat back in his chair, contemplating her. Her chestnut hair was still in its elaborate style, though more strands hadfallen down over her shoulders and chest. As she ran her fingers through a strand, he wanted nothing more than to replace her hand with his own — but he stopped himself as he didn’t want to scare her.

Over the last couple of days, he had learned that his wife was one who didn’t hesitate to take a risk, to put herself ahead of any fears or concerns she might have. He didn’t expect her to back down from him, but he also wasn’t sure what type of reaction to expect from her. Would she accept him and all he offered her, or would her guard come up and would she push him away once more?

“I suppose you could say that the Christmas spirit has come over me.”

“Oh?” she said, raising an eyebrow. “And what is it that has so enthralled you?”

“Well,” he drawled. “I believe it began with the ride through the snow, followed by the snowball fight in the woods. Then it continued with our sleigh ride, your idea to present the tenants with gifts. And finally, the decorations, the Yule log, the church service, and, of course, the mistletoe.”

“The mistletoe?”

“Yes,” he said, winking at her, “the mistletoe.”

He had rendered her speechless, for she sat there staring at him with her mouth open. The truth was, it wasn’t the snow, nor the gifts, nor the decoration, nor even the bloody mistletoe that had warmed him to Christmas. It was her. She filled the house and his life with laughter and joy, and he didn’t want to let her go. If only he could have her bestow some of that same spirit upon himself — even a little — his life would never be the same. But first, he had to convince her to trust him, to even learn to like him enough that perhaps they could find a way forward as true husband and wife.

And if Christmas made her happy, then so be it.

In the moment of silence, he began to hear the stirrings of a song.

“Do you hear…”

“Music,” she finished, and they both turned and looked out the door in an effort to determine where it was coming from.

“Stone Hall,” he finally said.

“Pardon me?”

“It’s coming from Stone Hall. We may not be directly connected to the door, but we share a wall, and it holds the best pianoforte in the house,” he said, his smile beginning to grow. Who was playing the instrument, he had no idea, although he guessed it was likely Marion, as he doubted whether many of the maids would possess the skill to play it. “Our staff has certainly set the scene.”

“Yes,” Scarlett agreed as a footman hurried over to fill her empty wine glass. “They certainly have.”

There was a moment of silence as the first course of soup was placed in front of them. Scarlett began to stir it, metal tings ringing out from her spoon on the bowl until she finally brought the soup to her mouth.

“Why did you come back?” she asked suddenly, her words coming out in a rush, and the look that rose to meet his was hesitant, vulnerable, as though asking had cost her much of her pride.

“Well,” he said slowly, wanting to tell her the truth of it while at the same time needing her to understand how important it was that she was here with him, that she remained with him.

“I received the notice from Stone regarding the funds,” he said, clearing his throat. “So I thought it best to come see to matter myself. And I’m glad I did,” he mused. “The man will be gone after Christmastide, that I can promise you. I apologize for not believing you sooner.”

“Was that the only reason you came?”

She looked so hopeful, so expectant, but Hunter didn’t want to lie to her. And yet … as he stared at his wife, he realized there was more to his desire for honesty. He longed to know her, to see if there was a chance for the two of them. Initially he had set out to woo her because socially, he needed a wife, and an heir would be required at some point — it made sense of a man in his position. But now that he had come to know her better, he yearned for her, not because she was his wife and a woman he would be bonded together with for life, but because she was intriguing. She was kind. She was generous. And she was sexy as hell.