Page 123 of Screwged for Christmas

Malcolm pulled a black coat from the pile. It didn’t have buttons but a belt that tied around the waist. “You need something to keep you warm in our Scottish winters.”

He held it open, so I could slide my arms in. It was like being wrapped in a warm cloud. More cashmere. Damn. A girl could get used to this.

“This is quite a change. You’re actually putting clothes on me.” I glanced up at him from under my lashes.

“Does it help to know that I planned all the ways I wanted to fuck you in my study this morning?” His hands rested on my shoulders as his lips brushed my ear.

I turned to face him, running my hands up his chest. He may be busy running his Dukedom or whatever it was called, but judging from his muscled pecs, he was still working out intensively. Not a surprise really; whatever Malcolm did, he threw himself into it.

“I’m on board with that.” I rose up on tiptoe to kiss him. His lips covered mine. Kissing him was like a drug. I could never get enough. “Your Grace,” I whispered.

He growled appreciatively, then reached inside my coat and pulled me hard against him. “There’s no need to wait.”

I pulled back with a sigh. “There’s a sleigh waiting for us, so yes, we have to wait.”

“The daylight won’t last for much longer.” He added a deep blue and green tartan scarf around my neck.

“Isn’t that yours?” The plaid looked familiar.

“The scarf is yours. The tartan is our family’s.”

“You have your own print?”

“Technically, it’s woven, but yes, that particular tartan belongs to the Murdoch family.” He tucked in the neckline of my coat. “You wear it well.”

Oh fuck. They had a coat of arms, of course they had their own plaid. I mean, what did I expect? He lived in a freaking castle.

Malcolm wore a navy pea coat. He handed me a pair of gloves and a knit hat as we left the house. The rest of the castle was quiet as our footsteps echoed along the marble floor.

“Where’s your mother?” I asked.

“Probably directing some poor servant around. I don’t know where she disappears during the day. Don’t worry, she never misses tea time. And after this morning, the apocalypse wouldn’t keep her away.”

“I don’t think I should go.”

“Why?” He opened the massive front door and we stepped out into a flurry of snowflakes.

An old-fashioned sleigh with the ducal crest and four white horses waited for us.

The horses stamped their feet impatiently. Fergus tipped his cap to us. “Good afternoon, Your Grace and My Lady. There’s a foot warmer for you.”

We greeted Fergus as Malcolm helped me into the back seat of the sleigh. He settled in close, sliding the foot warmer over for me. I didn’t think my feet were cold, but the foot warmer was a little slice of heaven.

Around us, steady snow fell like it did in those holiday movies I always thought were cheesy. Now, not so much.

I watched it accumulate this morning from Malcolm’s study window. Heavy snowfall wasn’t common, he said, but to me, it looked just like what I imagined. I was here with Malcolm. New York and my problems there felt a million miles away. Nothing seemed real here, just one big fairytale.

“Back to the topic of tea. I don’t think I should go because your mom won’t understand us.” I continued as we started off.

“I don’t understand us,” Malcolm pulled the pile of blankets over us. “Maybe she can explain it to me. Us,

” He offered.

“Be serious, Malcolm.” The horse’s jingle bells made a merry sound as we glided down the driveway before turning onto an open field. It was like being in a magical snow globe.

“I am serious.”

“We’re just messing around. Your family needs you here, and my life is in New York.” I couldn’t keep the regret out of my voice.

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