All I Want for Christmas...is you (7 page)

There were times when his gaze flickered to
meet hers, and times she played a bad hand that he winked her when
her brother pretended to strangle her for getting them
trounced.

Nevertheless, it was spirited and fun. When
it was over, she excused herself to lay out dinner, leaving them to
cigars and male talk, and to put things back in order.

Bram joined her in the kitchens and they
warmed the food and prepared their dishes, carrying it to the
informal table and lighting the long silver tapers.

“Not bad.” She unpinned the apron and put her
arm around him.

“A feast to be sure.” He kissed her cheek.
“I’ll get the guests.”

She stood by her chair as the men entered,
watching her brother seat himself at the head. Jerome sat at his
right, and she gestured for Lucas to pick his own seating, which he
did, across from her.

The wine pouring, the plate filling, it took
place amid talk and general gossip, some foolishness and discussion
of politics by the men, a few comments by herself, that got nods
from Lucas.

It grew dark outside while they ate and
relaxed, and afterward Lucas offered to help her clear the table
while Bram and Jerome headed for the study and billiard table.

The kitchens were brick floored, wide and
rather warm from the large cooking hearth and oven. While he
stacked the plates where she directed, Rena did a bit of cleaning
up.

Finally she turned from the butcher table to
find him with his hips leaned against the other bench. When he
simply held out his hand, she went to him and took it.

The embrace that followed was both ardent and
warm, for he merely held her against him a moment, his hand at the
back of her head, his arms keeping her snug in his hold. Yet his
heart was thudding intense and the currents between them crackled
and sparked.

When his arms relaxed, she leaned back to
look at him, her hands at his spine. “Are you enjoying this
Christmas?”

“Yes.” He reached and smoothed back a strand
of her hair, but his violet gaze stayed on hers. “I am. But more
because I am near you.”

“Did you mean what you said, that you wanted
me for Christmas?”

“Yes, and I—”

She cut him off, “Bram and Jerome are going
off after we open gifts. I want you to stay behind.”

“Rena.” He swallowed thickly and cupped her
face. “It has all been very fast, very sudden for you. I want you
to know however, that it does not feel that way for me. I want you,
and I say that meaning so much more than the physical.”

Her body tingled, her head felt light as a
feather, although she sensed he was saying everything with a
cautious restraint. “I want you that way, too. Lucas. I do not need
to think beyond this day, this chance, and this feeling. I don’t
even need promises and time. I am old enough and mature enough, to
know what it is I am offering, and what I will be getting. I want
you, too.”

His hand eased to the back of her head and
his mouth met hers in a deeply passionate kiss. Her fingers slid,
tangled in his hair. She went on her tiptoes, leaning into him,
kissing him back with emotion flooding her senses. Her heart
filling with every second their lips and tongue mated, stroked, and
tasted the desire that flamed between them.

Finally, he pulled back, husking while
catching his breath, “Until later then.” Then he laughed and put
her from him, holding her shoulders and her gaze. “Moments will now
seem like hours.”

She nodded. Then they headed out of the room
and back to the sitting room.

During the gift opening and laughter, there
was a moment when Bram put on the bright coat she had given him,
and pranced about the room.

She took note that Lucas had gotten Bram a
very expensive chess set and Jerome a book, which also belied the
rake’s image, for it was some heavy tome on history, which made him
drop his façade while he stroked it as if he could not wait to
delve between the pages.

He had gotten Bram a small painting that her
brother had apparently admired, and Lucas a writing set, which he
presented with the admonishment that the earl spent too much on
business and not enough on play.

Amid her brother and Jerome laughing and
joking, Verena handed Lucas her gift for him, watching his tawny
fingers unwrap it, and then looking at his face, watching his
expression.

He opened the rosewood box and extracted the
figurines of a dancing couple, glancing at her with a warm grin.
“Thank you.”

She nodded. “You’re welcome.”

He admired the couple, his thumb going over
the woman’s red hair and then placed it in the box. He took her
hand and stood, bringing her with him to the ornate stand and
cage.

Verena was aware that Bram and Jerome had
stopped talking and were watching them.

Lucas said, “It is under the bottom.”

Casting him a glance she grinned and reached
under the cage, finding a small silk bag tied there. She undid it
and tilted the sack, letting the ring slide into her palm. Her eyes
stung and watered, her heart shook. Blinking she tried to focus on
the sparkle of diamonds and could not.

Lucas had pity on her as tears rolled down
her cheeks. He took the ring from her palm, then gently lifted her
hand and slid it on her finger, kissing it before releasing it
again.

Swallowing a lump in her throat, she wiped at
her cheeks and glanced over at her grinning brother, scarcely
noticing that Jerome was smiling as well. “Did you know?”

“Of course I did.” He laughed and confessed.
“He asked for your hand, m’dear.”

She laughed and then disgraced herself by
falling against Lucas’s chest and weeping quite loudly. She did not
even notice when Jerome and Bram looked at each other and then
slipped out. She did not even notice when Lucas picked her up and
carried her to the sofa, and sat with her on his lap.

He undid the ribbon and stroked her hair.
Then as the tears settled to shudders, he gave her his hanky and
watched her dry her eyes and gather herself.

Rena leaned back and groused, “I must look
horrible.”

“You look beautiful.” He smiled and touched
her cheek. “Now, did you really think that I would make love to you
without a promise?”

“I didn’t care.” She smiled back and bit her
lip. “But… are you sure, about the…forever thing.”

“I’m sure.” He took her hand and held it
against his chest. “You’ll marry me, won’t you?”

“Yes.” She swallowed and loosed her hand to
touch his face. “You’ll make love to me, won’t you?”

“Dear girl,” he leaned and murmured against
her mouth. “I will make love to you so often, so thoroughly, so
well, that we’ll be planning the wedding from the bed.”

She laughed against his mouth. “Scandalous,
Lucas. Should we not just get a special license and avoid shocking
the ton.”

He kissed her and then pulled back. “We could
do that.” His thumb caressed her lip. “I could love you, Rena. Do
you believe that?”

“Yes.” She now recognized those mists in his
eyes, that deep mystery there. He was a man who would love deeply
and forever. “I could love you. I will, you know. I have wanted you
from the moment I came to London. From the time…when I was
sixteen.”

He groaned and leaned his head back, closing
his eyes a moment. “I wish I had known that. I have wanted you, for
many years…many years.”

He lowered his head and they were kissing,
holding tightly to each other, and when the kiss broke, she stood
and blew out the tapers. Taking his hand and leading him out, up
the stairs, and to her rooms.

The chamber was done in subtle gold and
white, a fire burned in the sitting room fireplace, and wafted heat
to the canopy bed draped in ivory and gold covers.

As he stood watching her disrobe, witnessing
that rich wine hair slide around her shoulders, Lucas felt as if he
had stepped into a long held dream. When she stood there, unclothed
and beautiful, her ivory skin like creamy silk, he was amazed,
captivated by her unashamed stance, the shimmer of sensuality in
her eyes.

His hands came out to softly cover each
pink-tipped breast, and then he kissed her, open and hungry, yet
erotic and deep, a kiss that had her arms going round him and her
body trembling against his. His hands moved then, over her back and
hips, gliding warm down her shoulders and up to the sides of her
neck.

He picked her up and lay her on the bed, then
removed his boots, unbuttoned his shirt, and uncovered a body that
he saw pleased her because she whispered, “Oh, Lucas,” and reached
for him.

Swarthy male flesh, muscle and sinew met the
silken smoothness of her feminine body. He kissed her, silky ones,
over her face and near her ear, down her throat. He felt her
touching him, stroking, molding, and shaping him with her hands
while her sighs and whispers floated around the room.

When he closed his mouth over her nipple, he
felt her arch and grasp his hair, heard her say his name over and
over again.

He gave both breasts all the attention he had
dreamed of, heady himself with the feel and taste of her,
completely wrapped in the erotic moments because she was sensual
and sexual. No matter how limited her knowledge, it did not affect
the heat of her responses, the whispers and sweet moans and the
stroke of her hands on him.

He moved down her body, touching and kissing,
laving and tasting until he had covered every inch. She was heavy
eyed and panting.

Lucas slid his hands up her legs, inching her
thighs apart and looking from those burgundy curls, the damp
secrets of her sex, to her face, to gage her acceptance.

She completely trusted him, he realized as
his fingers sifted through her curls, found the heat and moistness,
and eased inside slowly. He touched her that way until she was
arching and moving against it, then he replaced his fingers with
his mouth and groaned himself as she gasped and began to murmur how
good it felt.

When her climax came, she was just as free
and honest, so much so that afterward when he moved up and settled
between her quivering thighs, Lucas husked, “Rena, I have never
seen anyone as fiery, as beautiful as you.”

Her lashes lifted, her hands sliding down his
taut sides. “You make me feel as if my very bones were
melting.”

The crown of his sex nudged the wet entry.
His face was a study of restraint and hunger at war. “This is not
going to be as easy, nor as painless for you as it is me. I would
have it otherwise, but…”

“That makes all the difference.” She smiled
at him and slid her legs high on his hips. “I know you want me. I
want you. Take me, give me yourself…”

He tried to be easy. He could feel his heart
nearly hammering out of his chest as he eased in as slow as
possible. But she was snug and so hot, so silken and he had wanted
her so long, that Lucas breached the hymen and shuddered before
thrusting in and out on long stokes and losing himself in the feel
of her.

He had only felt her slight jerk and moan
when he breached, so he slowed, caught his breath and curled his
body to kiss her, knowing from her kiss that she had wept.

He rasped her name and came with racking
shudders, feeling the rush of pleasure from his feet to his
head.

It was hours later. He had built up the fire
and fetched warm water for them to bathe. She sipped wine and
himself a brandy. They lay on the bed, looking at each other,
faces, bodies, with their hands clasped between them on the
bed.

Lucas finished his drink and gathered her
against him, rising to smooth her hair back from her face. “Now, we
make love.” He leaned down and kissed her tenderly, stroking her
body while he bit at her lips and kissed from her ear to her
throat.

Rena responded to him with the same passion,
feeling the want in him that equaled her own, and stroking his body
too, pleasured by the feel of his skin, the heat of him, and the
sensual look in his violet eyes.

This time as he covered her, she kissed him,
laved his chest and it was he who muttered and murmured, and
breathed hot and heavy as he sank himself into her moist sex. It
was a bit feverish, slightly rough in the most sexual way. At some
point they realized how matched, how perfect, how wonderfully
attuned they were to their own sensuality and to each others.

“Lucas…” she moaned and her fingers dug into
his shoulders.

“Rena.” He gazed down at her flushed face and
moist parted lips, the glitter in her eyes. His body was hot and
tight, his hungers and pleasure racing through him like
lightening.

He moved in and out, stroking her, stroking
himself with her heat, until the climax stole his breath from his
lungs. Afterward he held her, and brought her pleasure to
completion, reveling just as much in her climax as his own.

They dozed for an hour before arising and
dressing. She walked him to the door, sometime in the morning
hours, they stood in that foyer, holding each other.

“I got my Christmas wish,” she then told him
what she had whispered in the coach that night.

“As did I.” He straightened and gazed at her.
“I don’t even want to leave you now.”

“Will you be able to get a special
license?”

“I will get one.” He nodded. “But if you want
a formal wedding, Rena...”

“I want you. Forever,” she repeated. “Merry
Christmas, Lucas.” Standing on her tiptoes, she kissed him and then
whispered in his ear. “Soon… make it soon.”

“Merry Christmas.” He held her tightly. “I
will make it scandalously soon.” He laughed.

When he released her and left, Rena fairly
floated up the stairs. She fell into bed and slept nearly the whole
day, to awaken rather roughly by her brother.

“Get up, my girl.” He sat on the side of the
bed grinning.

She sat up, pushing her hair out of her face.
“What?”