Free Christmas Delights by Heather Hiestand

exercise would be in order after such a banquet.
    With resolve, he went to his door and opened it, only to find the lady herself with her hand lifted toward the wood, a surprised expression on her cherubic face. His heart thumped an extra beat out of sheer surprise.
    “I did not tread lightly?” she asked with a wide-eyed gaze.
    He knew he was smiling like an idiot. Just the sight of her put his cock to half-mast. “I did not know you were there. I was about to leave my chamber.”
    “I see.” She stepped aside, still appearing confused. “I do not wish to interfere with your plans.”
    “My dear lady,” he said, taking her arm and drawing her inside, “you are my plans.”
    She shut the door softly behind them. “What of Eddy?”
    “He is stuffed too full to wake.”
    She smiled ruefully. “Penelope is the same. Why, she is snoring. I do not think I shall be able to sleep with her tonight.”
    “I am pleased to be your alternate companion.” He inclined his head.
    Her lips bowed upward. “What a waste that would be, if people came to house parties merely to find a different sleeping companion. So much duller than what you understand the reality to be.”
    “I thought you a seasoned adventuress,” he ventured. “But this is a new game for you?”
    “Not at all, Mr. Noble. I am merely curious. I’ve never even been to a house party before, especially one where matchmaking is intended.”
    “I am your safe harbor?”
    Her lids dipped half-closed over her stunningly clear eyes. “Rather, my uncharted territory.”
    “They say all women, and men too, are the same in the dark.” As soon as he made the joke, he knew it had been a mistake.
    She winced and turned away, staring into the fire. After a moment of silence, he touched her shoulder. “I did not mean to offend. Or course your husband—” Had she been in love with the man rather than the title?
    “We will not speak of Sir Humphrey,” she whispered.
    “No, of course not. I suppose I’ve ruined things.” He cleared his throat and tried to press through her change of mood. “Would you like a glass of wine? I sneaked a bottle up here. The underbutler is an old friend; he was a footman for the Redcakes once.”
    “That would be lovely,” she said, still in her pensive mood.
    He pulled the loosened cork from the bottle and poured half a glass for each of them, then invited her to sit by the fire. Instead of sitting next to her, he perched on the table between the sofa and the fire. Firelight danced on her features, drawing red streaks through her dark hair. For the first time, he noticed her clothing, her figure, and damned himself for being the kind of man who could spend five minutes alone with a woman and not notice these things. He would never be a true rake.
    “Your dressing gown is a work of art,” he observed. The stiff white fabric was heavily embroidered with vines and purple and blue flowers.
    “Forget-me-nots,” she said ruefully. “A wedding present from Sir Humphrey. Silly of me, not to mention inappropriate to wear it, but it is so pretty.”
    “I do not like mourning customs,” he told her. “Why turn young women into crows? Their husbands no longer care.”
    “I expect a scientist like yourself has many unconventional notions.”
    “It comes of thinking too much.” He felt cheerful all of a sudden. The wine was good and the fire had made the room pleasant. And now he’d taken the time to notice that her gown, which peeked from under the fanciful robe, was cut low enough to show the tops of her high, rounded breasts. Breasts he’d touched once and, God willing, would touch again.
    She put the glass to her lips and took a long sip of her wine. When she pulled the glass away, there was a bubble of deep red on her upper lip. He sat, mesmerized, as she licked the bubble away, then smiled at him. “It got away from me.”
    He leaned forward and took her glass from her, setting it on the table.
    “Are my table manners too