One More for Christmas(111)

He kissed her the way he’d kissed her under the stars that night. And this time it was even better, and she knew that at least some of the stars she’d seen that night had come from inside her. She didn’t know what she was doing, or what he was doing, or where this was going, or even what she wanted, but if someone had asked her if she’d like to feel this way forever, she would have said yes.

“I can’t believe you bought champagne.”

His hands were in her hair, his gaze fixed on hers. “I had to drive for an hour to buy it.”

“That’s why you drove to the village?”

“In the end I drove a bit farther than that. I decided that when you’re trying to make someone’s dream come true, you need something superior to the one they stock in the village.”

His hands moved down, his fingertips tracing the line of her shoulders and sliding under the thin straps that were keeping her decent. The straps surrendered under the determined pressure of his fingers and so did her nightdress, ivory silk and never before worn in anyone’s company other than her own. He didn’t rip it from her body, but she discovered that a slow undressing could be equally seductive.

“What are you doing?”

“You wanted to drink champagne naked in bed and it sounded like a great idea to me, so let’s do it.”

It didn’t occur to her to argue. Instead she helped him undress, their fingers tangling in their haste, and then her arms were around him and he was kissing her while simultaneously trying to open champagne.

“Wait—let me—” He pulled away long enough to ease out the cork.

There was a loud pop. The cork hit the ceiling, champagne cascaded over both of them and they both fell onto the bed, smothering laughter with kisses and soft words as he struggled to keep the bottle upright.

She grabbed it from him while there was still some left in the bottle. “Did you happen to bring glasses?”

“You already know I don’t need glasses for sex.”

“I meant the sort you drink out of.”

“Oh—” He lifted his head briefly. “‘I want to drink champagne naked in bed.’ That’s what you said to me. No mention of glasses. You need to be more specific in your brief.”

She wriggled upright and sank back against the pillows. “I have never drunk out of the bottle before in my life.” But it felt like the right thing to do. She wanted her life to be full of things she’d never done before, and this was a good place to start.

“There’s not much left in the bottle anyway. We’re wearing most of it.” He kissed her shoulder. “This fantasy is working well for me. How is it for you?”

“Damp.” She lifted the bottle with both hands, giggling like a teenager. That was a first, too. When had she last laughed until her ribs ached? She couldn’t remember.

“You need to giggle quietly, or we’ll have people knocking on the door. I like your family, but right now I’m not in the mood for company.”

“Talking of family, what did my sister say to you earlier?”

“Ah. That’s between me and your sister. But she did threaten various parts of my anatomy should I ever cause you a moment’s unhappiness.”

“She threatened you? I’m so sorry!”

“Don’t be. She loves you.” He took the bottle from her, took a mouthful of champagne and then put it down next to the bed.

“What are you doing?”

“We’re reaching the wild desperate sex part.”

“We already did that.”

“I don’t need reminding. I haven’t been able to concentrate all day.” He kissed his way down her neck to her shoulder and lower, until his mouth brushed the tip of her breast. The thrill of desire overwhelmed everything, and they came together, wild and frantic.

She moved beneath him, blood pounding, heartbeat racing, and it was as intoxicating as it had been the first time.

Afterward she lay in his arms, and if she’d been given a choice she would have stayed there forever. “I can’t believe this is happening. Last night I thought—”

“Yes. Last night. I lay awake waiting for you.” He turned his head. “Where were you?”

“Me? I was here. Awake. Hoping you’d knock on my door.”

“I almost did, but then I reasoned my way out of it. I thought you might have regrets. I kept wondering if I’d taken advantage of an emotionally unstable woman.”

“Excuse me?” She lifted herself on her elbow. “Are you calling me emotionally unstable?”

“No need to be defensive or embarrassed. My family makes me emotionally unstable, too.”

She lay back and sighed. “You’re right. I was emotionally unstable. This has been a weird Christmas. But that wasn’t why I slept with you.”

“Good. But in that case why didn’t you come and tap on my door?”

Why hadn’t she? “Firstly because I’d managed to convince myself that you’d had pity sex—”

“Pity sex?”

“Yes. You felt sorry for me and were trying to make me feel better.”

“I’m putting my back into this hospitality thing, but even I wouldn’t go that far. There was no pity involved.” He stroked his finger along her cheekbone, as if memorizing her face. “You said ‘firstly.’ What was the second thing?”