Free Her Christmas Pleasure by Karen Erickson

he was so inclined, she wanted to be Damien Morton’s wife.
    Pausing at the foot of the staircase, she set her hand on the banister and sighed. It would be best if she did rest for a bit. Gathering her thoughts and shoving her feelings deep inside sounded like just the thing her before she faced Damien once more. Oh, what a fool she was for believing he could love her.
    She started up the stairs, gasping in shock when he wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled her toward that unmistakable, thrillingly large body she’d so intimately been pressed against the night before.
    “You didn’t wait for me,” he murmured close to her ear just before he kissed it.
    She nudged away from him, not wanting the distraction. Not yet. “I couldn’t have walked any slower.”
    “I didn’t want anyone to know we were leaving together.” He moved to stand right beside her, taking her hand in his and bringing it to his mouth. His lips drifted across her knuckles, his tongue offering an errant swipe.
    She sucked in a harsh breath. “I don’t believe they would say a word. I must confess, the countess is worried we grow too close.”
    His dark eyebrows rose as he dropped her hand from his mouth but continued to hold it. Fingers intertwined, they started up the stairs together. “The earl implied he wants us together.”
    “Did he?” His revelation was surprising. She had no idea Lawrence’s father would want something to blossom between her and Damien. She half believed they thought she’d mourn Lawrence forever.
    Celia frowned. Of course they wouldn’t want her to be unhappy. They’d want only the best for her and Theo. And since Lawrence wasn’t with them any longer and they’d always cared for Damien like a second son…
    “It makes absolute sense,” she said aloud, tightening her fingers around his as the realization hit her.
    “What does?”
    “The earl encouraging us to be together. He’s always loved you, you know. And Theo thinks you’re marvelous. He always asks for you.”
    “Does he?”
    They came to the top of the stairs. Damien tugged gently on her arm, directing her toward his bedchamber.
    “Yes.” She trailed behind him, admiring his strong, muscular physique. Just looking at him, her hand in his, knowing the promise of what he might do to her once they got behind that closed door, made her skin tingle in anticipation. “He does. He admires you so. He—he even told me he wishes you were his father.”
    “He told you that?” He sounded startled. He glanced over his shoulder at her, aslight frown marred his handsome face.
    “Yes. He loves you.” As did she, for she did love Damien—so much.
    “And what about you?” They stopped in front of his closed bedchamber door. He turned to face her. “How do you feel about me?”
    Her lips parted, but the words stuck in her throat. This was the moment she’d envisioned since she woke this morning. She needed to confess. He would leave her if she didn’t.
    He might leave her anyway if she did.
    It was a chance she had to take.

Chapter Eight
    Damien waited for Celia to say something, anything. Her pink tongue snuck out to swipe at her bottom lip, and his cock twitched. Inhaling deeply, he glanced about the dark hall before reaching for the door handle.
    “We should go inside and discuss this in private,” he suggested, not wanting an unexpected audience to come upon them discussing such a private matter.
    Dread filled him when she nodded mutely, a forlorn expression marring her pretty face.
    Nerves made his hands shake as he led her inside his bedchamber. A fire was lit within, blazing cheerily in the hearth, and it reminded him of last night.
    The entire room reminded him of last night. Visions of her kneeling before his chair, ethereal in the firelight, crowded his mind, and he reached for her. He trailed his fingers along the length of her slender arm as she stopped to look at him.
    “Damien.” She released a shuddering breath. “I don’t