Free Falling Stars by Loretta Chase

played havoc with her morals ten years ago. He said tonight that his intentions had been honorable, and she believed him. Then, however, wasn’t now. This night, the instant he’d taken her into his arms, her morals had disintegrated completely.
    He hadn’t taken any outrageous liberties. His hands hadn’t wandered where they shouldn’t. He hadn’t unfastened a single fastening. Nonetheless, in a few simmering minutes, without so much as taking off his gloves, Marcus Greyson had done to her what her adoring husband had never come close to doing in seven years of conjugal intimacy.
    She was all too hotly aware of what Marcus might do to her if he took off his gloves.
    She had thought the tension between them was because of the past, and even the physical attraction must somehow be part of it, because it was too feverishly intense. He was an attractive man, admittedly. All the same, he shouldn’t make her feel so... desperate.
    Yet even after they’d laid the past to rest and forgiven each other, the desperate feelings remained. She had fled the room to keep from hurling herself right back into his arms.
    She closed her eyes. Heaven help her. Two days in his company and she had turned into a besotted schoolgirl... if not something worse.
     
    ***
     
    Despite a restless night, Christina rose in time to go with Penny and the children to church. The men were still abed when they returned, and only Julius came down to luncheon. After that, Christina took the children outdoors. It had snowed throughout the night, leaving a thick blanket, the perfect consistency for sledding.
    Aware that Kit could be trusted to take his brother down the small hill safely, Christina could give most of her attention to her own and her daughters’ entertainment, which she did with gusto. She had two years’ practice to give her confidence and two thrill-seeking seven-year-olds to encourage daring. They raced the boys, beat them twice, and were beaten twice.
    It was during the fifth race that her skirt caught on a runner. The sled went out of control, veering toward a tree. She was aware of shouts above, then of flying through the air, Delia clasped in her arms, before she landed hard, a few feet from the tree.
    Delia rolled free, shrieking with laughter, while Christina lay stunned and breathless, blinking at the vivid blue sky. In the next instant, she was staring into the very white, rigid countenance of Marcus Greyson.
    Before she could utter a syllable, he caught her in his arms and pulled her tight against him. His chest heaved as though he’d been running for his life. She could have told him she was quite uninjured, and the only damage she was like to suffer was if he crushed her ribs. But she held her tongue. She wasn’t in any hurry to be released.
    “Me, too,” Delia demanded.
    Marcus’s ferocious grip relaxed. He gave Delia a hug, then helped Christina to her feet. “That was well done,” he said in a muffled voice. “I was... congratulating your mama on her fine handling of the sled.”
    He briskly brushed snow from the back of Christina’s coat. “Why don’t you go to the house and change into something dry?” he said. His voice was not altogether steady. “I’ll look after the children.”
    “I’m all right,” she said. “A little snow won’t hurt me.”
    “You’re soaked to the skin,” he whispered fiercely. “You nearly broke your neck. In another moment, I shall shake you until your teeth rattle. Go away, Christina.”
    She turned away, her eyes widening in astonishment. He was very agitated, more than she’d guessed. Very likely he would shake her.
    She straightened her bonnet and walked back to the house, her heart thrumming with hope.
     
    ***
     
    Marcus was well aware that he’d just made a complete fool of himself. He had rushed down the slope in blind panic—doubtless alarming the children—and clutched Christina to him in a perfectly demented manner. He had all but wept with relief to find