Page 138 of Snowbound Surrender
He leaned down then, determined that this time, she would not escape. He saw a tiny bit of panic flare in her eyes as his face neared hers, but she didn’t back away. He brought his hand to the back of her head, and before she could have another moment to think about what was happening between them, he brought his lips to hers.
It had taken months, but he finally tasted his wife. And now that he had sampled, he wanted more. He didn’t want to scare her away, but it was difficult to keep himself from taking more than this sweet, chaste kiss. He could sense her hesitancy, however, so he held himself to what she offered, her lips soft and warm under his. So as not to scare her, he began to slowly move them over hers, tempting, slightly teasing, and he knew the moment she allowed her resistance to begin to ebb away. For her body, so tense and tight, began to sink into him seemingly of its own will, the ice beginning to melt as her soft form came flush against his. He ran his tongue over the seam of her lips, and she opened to him, allowing him in, and he felt the exhilaration down to his very soul.
For he knew this was more than simply sharing a kiss with her husband. This was opening up to him in more than just the physical sense.
She tasted like the spice of the pastry she had been offered at their last stop, and, like the temptation of sugar, he wanted more of her — more than was appropriate to ask here, in the middle of these evergreens, the snow beginning to swirl around them. In fact, when he finally broke away, he was shocked to find the snow was now coming down in droves. When had that happened?
He looked down to find her staring up at him in amazement, and he was filled with a sense of satisfaction that it took a moment for her to come back to her senses.
“I — Hunter, I?—”
He shook his head, smiling at her. “You don’t have to say anything,” he murmured, stroking her red cheek with his gloved thumb. “But we should get back.”
She looked around her, taking in the sudden snowfall with as much surprise as he had.
“Goodness, but it’s coming down!” she exclaimed. “We should go.”
This time, when they took a seat in the sleigh, he lifted the blanket over both of them, feeling her leg pressed against his. When she didn’t move away, he smiled. Perhaps there was something to the Christmas spirit after all.
CHAPTER 9
“Oh, my lord, my lady!”Mrs. Shepherd hurried toward the door as they let themselves in, shaking off the snow. Scarlett looked over at Hunter and couldn’t help but begin to laugh, for the snow covered his riot of curls as though he were wearing a powdered wig. It was quickly beginning to melt as they stood in the entrance of the foyer, plastering the curls to his forehead. She was compelled to reach out and brush them away from his face, but stilled her hand before it acted of its own accord.
“My, but it’s frightfully cold out there!” Mrs. Shepherd continued, bustling around them as she helped Scarlett with her cloak. “You’re both going to catch a death of a cold if you don’t warm yourselves at once. My lord, where is your hat? Come, come.”
Scarlett smiled warmly at the woman who reminded her of a nursemaid the way she was fretting over the two of them. It was sweet, though, really, and she allowed her to continue her ministrations.
Abbot walked into the room then, his march the same steady pace he continued wherever he went. The house could be on fire and Abbot would still move with his measured steps out the door.
“My lord,” he said, “Spicer has prepared everything for your departure, but he wonders whether you might prefer to stay the night, with the way the weather has turned.”
Scarlett looked over at Hunter, who cocked his head to the side as he contemplated Abbot’s words. He turned toward the door as though he could see through it and he sighed.
“Perhaps you are right, Abbot. It has grown rather late, and it will be difficult to see through the snow. I am to have dinner tomorrow with Lord Falconer, but if I leave in the morning we should still be able to make it in time. I have items of importance I wanted to discuss before he departs for his own country home, so that everything will be in order by the time Session resumes. However, if I ready my notes tonight, then I shouldn’t need to do so once I make London. Yes, that will be well.”
Was he speaking to her, to Abbot, or to himself? He had begun wandering through the adjoining Oak Hall as he muttered away, apparently not noticing he was dripping melting snow over the floorboards.
“He’ll be going to his study,” said Abbot — was that disapproval in his tone as he watched his employer meander down the hall?
Scarlett shook her head as she gathered her skirts and followed after her husband, as her rooms were in the same corridor as the study. Where was the man who had just kissed her in the snow, who had turned the cold into magic swirling around her? He was gone, lost to the Hunter who was completely wrapped up in his work. Though she now knew that his purpose was the admirable sort, she would have preferred that he include her in the conversation, if what he had to see to was so pressing.
This was the problem with men, she thought as the hope that had stirred in her belly simmered into anger. They made youbelieve one thing, charged your emotions, and then in the next moment they brushed you aside as though it all meant nothing. She rubbed her forehead. She should know better. Well, it was just a kiss. A bit of fun, really.
But as she closed her door and sank back against it, she knew, deep down in her soul, that she was already beginning to lose the battle of defending her own heart.
Scarlett awokethe next day determined to change her focus. She had accomplished her goal with Hunter — she had made him see the error in his ways, demonstrated all that he had been blind to in trusting his steward with sole responsibility of his estate. With any luck, he would be rid of Stone and conditions could begin to turn around for his tenants. It would be a new beginning in the new year.
Andthatwas all she needed of him. Nothing more — or so she continued to tell herself.
“Good morning, my lady.”
“Good morning, Marion,” Scarlett smiled at her maid as she bustled into the room and began to efficiently pull various dresses from the wardrobe.
“What activities have you planned for this morning, my lady?” she asked as she held up a riding habit in one hand and a morning gown in the other.
Scarlett, sitting up under the blankets with her legs crossed, looked up at Marion, sighing as she placed her elbows on her legs and her chin in the palms of her hands, contemplating the girl and the clothing she held.
“I’m not entirely sure,” Scarlett said, tilting her head to the side. “I had thought perhaps to return home to visit my mother today for Christmas Eve and Christmas dinner. But first, I did want to add some festivity to this house. I’ll be back before Twelfth Night, so will have plenty of time to enjoy it. Besides that, I think the rest of the servants would like it — do you agree?”
