Page 26 of Mistletoe and Kisses
“And you mine. But first thing’s first,” he said, releasing her hands.
Hugh crossed to the tallboy which sat in the corner of his room and opened the top drawer. Mary took a deep breath and prayed that if this was indeed a dream, she would never wake from it.
He returned, stealing a warm kiss from her.
“We have to do this properly,” he said. With her hand held in his, he went down on bended knee. “I can be blind to some things at times; it is a fault in my nature. But my love for you has always been there, and always will be. You know my shortcomings better than anyone. And as my partner in this life, I empower you to take me to task if you ever feel that I am being anything less than fully supportive of you,” he said.
With a wry grin, Mary nodded. “I shall hold you to that, Hugh Radley.”
“Good. Mary Margaret Gray, I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you do me the greatest honor possible and become my wife?”
There were a dozen other words she could have used at that moment, includingfinallyandabout time, but her heart was so full of love for the man who knelt before her that Mary could only think of one. “Yes.”
He got to his feet and slipped a diamond ring on her finger. The oval-shaped stone was set in gold with a delicate filigree pattern etched into it. It was perfect in its elegance and simplicity. Hugh knew her better than she realized.
“Edinburgh has some fine jewelers as well as clothing stores,” he whispered.
“Oh, Hugh.”
And she had thought he’d only been worried about keeping her warm. The wicked man had been planning to ask her to marry him all along.
She looked down at the ring and sighed. “This is the most beautiful Christmas gift anyone could ever receive. Thank you.”
Hugh slipped his hand around her waist. “The ring is a betrothal gift, my love. I have something else planned for my fiancée for Christmas Day, but you will have to wait.”
He was the most handsome, wonderful, and at times infuriating man she had ever met, but she would not have exchanged him for anyone else. Hugh Radley was exactly the man for her.
She wiped away a tear, then, emboldened by his declaration of love, she stole one kiss. Then another. By the time she was ready for a third touch of his lips, Hugh had tightened his grip about her waist and pulled her hard against him. His low growl of need set her heart racing.
Until now, her private fantasies of this moment had been enough to keep her satisfied. With his heated touch, her desire raced to a dangerous level.
He stepped back from her, and with what she imagined was an unintended overly dramatic flourish, tore his scarf from his neck. With the mixture of nerves and the humor of his look, she snorted a laugh. He raised an eyebrow in her direction as he tossed the scarf on a nearby sofa. His jacket quickly followed.
“Your turn,” he murmured.
Mary looked at Hugh’s clothes laying in a pile. Seeing them now brought home the reality of the situation. She was tempted to pinch herself; this was really happening. Never had she dared to imagine that her secret dreams of being with him would come to fruition. Now they were.
A worried look appeared on his face when she didn’t move. For her, this moment was more than a simple physical encounter. Her love for him ran to her very soul.
She held out a hand and was reassured when he took it and drew himself closer once more. “Hugh,” she murmured, offering up her mouth to his. He nipped at her bottom lip, teasing. She nipped him back, her breath shuddering.
No longer needing any invitation, she placed her hands on his face, drawing him down to her. Their mouths locked in a fiery embrace, tongues tangled. It was a wicked dance.
When she finally released him from the kiss, Mary knew the time had come. Time for her to follow his lead.
With a deft shrug, she let her wool shawl fall to the floor. She resisted the temptation to follow Hugh’s example and toss it away. She had a terrible throwing arm and the shawl was more likely to end up in the fireplace than on the sofa. She kicked it safely aside.
After sliding a finger under the top of her gown sleeve, she pulled it down. Her intention of revealing a hint of shoulder failed miserably in the attempt. The sleeve wouldn’t budge. She silently rued the sensible nature of Scottish clothing. They both chuck
“You may have to help me with the fastenings,” she said.
He turned her to face away from him, then began to undo the ties on the back of her gown. For every knot he untied, he placed a kiss on the nape of her neck. Mary shivered with anticipation.
“For my sake, you might want to have a word with your maid about how tight she ties these laces. This could take a while.”
When she was finally free of her binds, Mary stepped out of her gown. Hugh rewarded her with yet another kiss.
His shirt was next to go. Mary made quick work of the button at the top and watched with bated breath as she got her first glimpse of his hair-dusted chest.
