Page 23 of The Sweetest Season
She couldn’t say anything more.Not when he was looking at her like that, his eyes catching candlelight and turning honey gold.
He bent and kissed her.
Catching the scent of port, she opened her mouth in response, tasting caramel and cinnamon and oak.And longing.She breathed in slowly, savoring the kiss.His mouth was warm, meltingly warm.Seeking something to hold, she found herself wrapping her arms around his shoulders.
His arm went around her waist, pulling her closer.It felt so marvelous to be close to him, to know that he didn’t just want what she made.He wantedher.
His tongue grazed her lower lip just once as he ended the kiss.He said, “You always taste so sweet.Not bitter at all.Just burnt sugar, and”—he licked his lower lip thoughtfully—“pomegranate, perhaps.Strong and a little bit tart.Which I like.”
Beatrice warmed at his words.Thatwas not something she’d ever been told, even by men quite used to spilling pretty compliments to women.She should think of something tart to say, but she simply couldn’t.“You…do?”
He smiled, nodding.“I do.I want to taste you every day for the rest of my life.”
“You would soon get sick of it,” she warned him.
“Never.You contain flavors I’ve been starving for, and I want to sample them all.”As he spoke, his fingers trailed along the shape of her breasts, lingering where he felt the hardening of her nipples, a clear sign that his kisses already excited her.He leaned in to her ear and murmured, “Every inch of you, Beatrice.You’re a feast I will always be hungry for.”
She inhaled, almost faint from the raw lust in his tone.She’d never been so thoroughly tempted to give in to a man’s promise.
“Did you intend to seduce me tonight?”she asked softly, dazed by his steady, teasing strokes over her breasts, wanting to rid herself of the pesky fabric between her body and his touch.
“I had hopes,” he confessed.“Though I’d assumed it would be after we ate dessert.Instead, you’ve become my dessert, and I couldn’t be more satisfied.”
“You are going to make me lose my wits,” she protested, but not with any real objection, because he’d cupped one breast and given just enough pressure to make her want to moan.
“Tell me, Beatrice,” he said, sounding more urgent.“Would you get sick of me?”
“I…” She looked into his honey-gold eyes, and said, “I would need another sample to know for sure.”
His breath caught, just for a second.Then he smiled.“Whatever you ask.”
Chapter 9
He kissed her again, andthis time she was ready.She touched her tongue along his lips, searching for words to describe his essence.She knew about the caramel and cinnamon from the previous kiss.But she didn’t want to taste the port.She wanted to tastehim.
He let her, opening his mouth, drawing her closer to him.She took a light breath.Then, there it was.Chocolate, yes, but raw.Not sweet.Like coffee with no sugar.Beneath that, cream, fresh, uncultured but bursting with flavor.She sighed, and caught one final flavor: a hint of salt.It was enough to make her lick her lips and want another kiss.Salt was simple but essential, finishing even sweet dishes perfectly.
Noel pulled back from the kiss, taking an unsteady breath, clearly thrown.“You’ve had your sample.And your verdict?”
She told him all the tastes he contained.It was delightful to watch him listen to her words, just as it was a delight to watch someone taste one of her confections for the first time.Wonder and surprise and…respect.She took a breath.Yes, that’s why she liked doing what she did.She was an artist and she wanted people to respect her creations.
He hadn’t let her go, though he’d slipped his hands down to her waist, resting comfortably there as if they’d been lovers for years.If anyone walked in now, the result would be scandal.She should tell him so.
She would, eventually.After a few more kisses.
Then his grip tightened slightly, and he lifted her onto the table, sending some of the holiday greenery flying.
“Noel, what are you thinking?Your whole household…”
“Is enjoying their day off, starting a bit early.I told everyone that they need not return to work until after Christmas Day.”
“You planned this!”
He grinned, unrepentant about it.“Of course.You don’t think I seduce women on a whim, do you?”There was a crystal bowl of honey on the table, intended to be used for tea or coffee after the meal.He dipped his finger into the honey and then laid it on her lower lip.Bea licked it off, watching his eyes flare in anticipation.
It was not difficult for him to slide her sleeves off her shoulders, and to then push it lower to reveal the chemise and stays underneath.He inhaled, taking her in.
“Loosen your stays,” he ordered.
