Page 215 of Ten Lords for the Holidays

“I don’t believe so.” He let her go and adjusted his mask, bringing the wolf’s face down over his own once more. “Certainly I would have remembered a woman of your particular wit, Mademoiselle Red.”

There was something in his tone that didn’t quite ring true, and her heart beat faster with hope. Had they somehow, impossibly, met before? She almost told him her name, just to be certain, but the rowdy fellows began pelting one another with snowballs. She and the count were not in imminent danger, but the air felt suddenly much colder.

Eliana shivered, and he was instantly beside her, slipping one arm about her shoulders.

“Time we went in,” he said. “It’s ungentlemanly of me to have kept you outside so long.”

“It was worth it.” Somehow, she felt transformed, as though that kiss had been the key to unlock the door to her new self. She smiled at him and tried to keep her teeth from chattering.

He raised his hand to her cheek, then frowned when she shivered once more.

Somehow, in the space of just a few minutes, he’d whisked her inside and installed her in a comfortable armchair before a fire in a parlor he’d commandeered for her use.

“Fetch the lady a drink,” Count Nikolai said to the footman he’d waylaid on their way inside. “And none of that wretched mulled wine, but something palatable.”

“Very good, my lord.” The man bowed and hurried away.

The old Eliana would have protested that it was improper to be alone in the parlor, then made some kind of bright remark to take the sting from her words. But she trusted Count Nikolai and the improbable, yet undeniable, connection she felt between them.

“I apologize for freezing you half to death,” he said, going to poke up the fire. “I hope you don’t catch a chill. Now, remove your slippers.”

“You’re quite imperious,” she said, nevertheless bending to undo the laces of her footwear. Her toeswererather cold.

He dropped to his knees and gently drew off her slippers, and the feel of his hands on her feet made sparks tingle through her once more. He pulled a nearby footstool over in front of the hearth, then gently positioned her feet before the flames.

That a wary wolf would treat her so tenderly made her nearly swoon back in the chair.

“Thank you,” she said, trying not to sigh the words.

Count Nikolai took the second armchair set before the hearth and gazed into the fire. His mouth set into a tight line beneath the mask, as though his thoughts had taken a grim turn.

“I hope you’re not regretting that I granted your wish,” she said.

“I don’t regret that kiss in the slightest.” His voice held a touch of coolness, however, that made her doubtful.

“You must think me rather forward, I suppose.”

Although she had shared illicit kisses in shadowed corners with certain suitors, it never went further than that. None of those kisses, however, had made her feel the way Count Nikolai’s had—as if her body were the wick of a candle, with a bright flame dancing upon it.

He turned to face her, and she wished she could pull off his mask and read his face.

“I’m only sorry that our brief acquaintance must end tonight,” he said. “Under other circumstances, I believe we might have been friends.”

His words were like a blow to the chest, and she sucked in a wounded breath. “Must it end?”

“Yes. I’ll escort you back to the ballroom, and then I must take my leave.”

Before she could ask why, or implore him to stay, the footman returned with a small glass of brandy.

“I hope this will suitable to your needs,” he said, handing it to Eliana. “Will there be anything more?”

“Nothing more,” she said. “You may go.”

The footman bowed and left the room. She watched him leave, then turned to the count.

“What if the servants say something?” she asked.

“We are incognito,” he said. “Almost no one in London knows me, or that I am currently visiting. Finish your brandy, and I’ll escort you back to the ballroom in plenty of time to preserve your reputation.”

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