Kissing Under The Mistletoe (The Sullivans #10)(63)

That evening, she’d told him and her father about her conversation with her mother, about seeing the pictures her parents had collected of her over the years. Her father had teared up with the same tears of joy she’d been crying herself all day. Jack’s eyes, and his hand over hers, had been full of so much love for her that she could still hardly think what she could have done right in her life to find him.

Now, Mary stepped out of the cooling bath, dried off, then wrapped herself in the soft silk robe she’d packed in her bag. Feeling like a naughty teenager, instead of heading for her own bedroom, she tiptoed down the hall, through the kitchen and living room until she reached the guest room on the far side of the house. Her heart pounded hard with delicious anticipation as she put her hand on the doorknob.

Making sure to open the door quietly so that the hinges didn’t creak and give her away, she almost forgot to close the door as she stared in wonder at the beautiful man waiting for her on the bed, the sheets at his hips leaving his chest gloriously bare. Jack was smiling at her, but desire was simmering just beneath the surface.

“I thought my father was never going to let you go to bed. All this time I believed my mother was the one desperate for me to marry. Now I realize my father was quite possibly even more desperate for a son-in-law.”

She’d spoken in a whisper, but she and Jack were so attuned to each other that she knew they could probably have read each other’s lips—or minds—if they’d needed to.

“Your father is a good man. He’s agreed to teach me some Italian. Want to hear what I’ve learned already?” She laughed softly at the list of sports terms he rattled off in perfectly accented Italian.

When she stood at the bed and slipped off her robe, he said, “But he forgot to teach me how to say ‘You’re beautiful.’”

“Sei bellissima.”

After Jack repeated the words she’d just taught him, he reached for her. “Come to bed, Angel.”

Sliding beneath the covers into his open arms made an already amazing day even better. “You and my father are so much fun to watch together, especially when you’re communicating with increasingly wild hand gestures.”

“Funny you should mention my hands, because I’ve got a great idea for what I could do with them tonight.” Jack slowly skimmed his large, warm hands down over her curves, from br**sts to hips.

Mary was a heartbeat away from being lost to everything but sensation, to everything but how much she loved him. Forcing herself to keep her eyes from fluttering closed with pleasure for just a little while longer, she said, “My mother is just as excited about you as my father is. In fact, she’s hoping that we’ll—”

“Get married.”

“Well, yes, of course she’s expecting that,” Mary said with a tap of one finger to the top of her engagement ring. “But more than anything, she’d like for us to—”

“Have the wedding here in Italy.”

Would he ever stop surprising her…and pleasing her in equal measure?

“That’s exactly what she’s hoping. And it would truly be a dream come true for her if we decided to have the ceremony—”

“Just before Christmas.”

Awareness finally dawned. “My father must have said something to you, didn’t he? Did he draw you a picture of a bride and groom standing in front of a Christmas tree?”

Jack grinned. “Actually, I’m the one who drew him the picture. It seems your mother and I had the exact same idea for how to make this a perfect Christmas.”

Mary’s heart skipped a beat as she shifted against him so that she could look into his eyes. “You did?”

Jack’s expression grew serious. “I know I only just convinced you to wear my ring, and that most people wait a year between getting engaged and getting married, but I’ve been waiting my whole life for you.” He stroked the back of his hand over her cheek. “I don’t want to wait anymore.”

“I don’t want to wait, either.”

“So you’ll be my Christmas bride?”

Tears threatened even as she teased, “Just as long as you promise not to dress up in a red suit and long white beard for the ceremony.”

The next thing she knew, she was lying back on the bed and his big, strong body was levered over hers. “How did you know that’s what I was planning to do at our wedding?” he teased back.

“You’re not the only one who can read minds.”

“How about we do a little scientific experiment then?” he asked, her skin heating from the sensuality underlying his question. “Tell me, what am I thinking about right now?”

She made a show of mulling it over as she ran her hands down from his broad shoulders over his well-defined abdomen to his hips. “You’re thinking about kissing me right here,” she said as she lifted one hand to her face and lightly touched the tip of her index finger to the center of her lips. “Did I guess right?”

“You did.”

Running his hands back up her naked curves, he slid them into her hair. As he lowered his mouth to hers, she met him in the middle, more desperate for his kiss than she’d ever been for anything in her life.

The first touch of his lips to hers was gentle. Sweet. But the long hours apart had taken their toll on both of them, and though pure love was at the heart of every moment they shared, and they knew they needed to make love as quietly as possible in her parents’ house, desire’s demands couldn’t possibly be ignored.