All I Want for Christmas...is you (5 page)

Sometime near dawn, the adrenaline left him
as sheer exhaustion took him over. Sitting now and drinking strong
coffee, the papers untouched by his empty plate. He stared at the
thick white snow that would coat the landscape come evening, and he
did not want to have to wait until Christmas to see her again.

“Your bath is ready, my lord. “

Lucas glanced at Feyer, at least noticing the
slim and straight man carefully kept his face impassive. He
supposed that he had been acting out of character of late, and the
man, as well as his entire staff was in some confusion. Even when
he had worked grueling hours and the demands of society tested his
temper, he did not take it out on them.

When he stepped through the door here, he
dropped his polite and distant mask, because his servants knew him
likely better than society did. Some of them had known his parents
who were social creatures that spent much of the fortune on living
the high life, and little time assuring he had had anything left.
His staff was loyal and he thought, proud in many ways, that he was
who and what he was.

It was not their fault that he was taking
what he saw as the biggest risk of his life, for a man who did not
do so lightly in business. This was personal, and what he felt was
his last chance, since he did not feel this way about any other
woman. He knew that Miss Verena Shyer would not care a fig for his
wealth and titles; she was too genuine for that.

“Thank you, Feyer. Will you lay out my
evening clothing? I believe I have another ball on my schedule.” He
smiled as the man nodded and those features smoothed into their
normal lines. “By the by, will you see if I have something less
formal, but appropriate, to wear on Christmas? I have been invited
to a friend’s house and I gather it will be a family thing, nothing
stiff and ceremonial.”

“Yes. Sir.” The man’s brown eyes lit up. “I
know just the thing.”

“I knew you would. Feyer.” After his bath and
shave, Lucas dressed and while sipping brandy in the study, before
leaving, realized he should have some gift for Bram and Jerome, for
Verena too, though he had not the faintest idea what would be
appropriate.

As he got in the coach, he decided if fate
was kind and he did see her tonight, he’d perhaps keep his head
about him enough to probe some hint from her as to what he could
purchase.

Still, sitting there, as a long line of
crested vehicles deposited guests at the Marquis of Chamberlain’s
mansion, Lucas admitted to himself that things seemed more bright
and alive, and it was not just the pristine snow, which caused it.
The ladies gowns seemed vibrant and voices sharper and clearer. The
air he breathed in and the anticipation building in him that he
would see her, had much to do with it.

This was, in his memory, the first time he
looked forward to the social gatherings and crushes that were
required of him. Had he just spoken to her for the first time
yesterday? He groaned, hoping like hell that she did not feel that
they were still strangers. He did not feel that way, and he knew
what society required in the lines of courtship. He bloody well did
not want to take any more steps back from where they had nearly
been last night.

* * * *

Rena felt as if she had been holding her
breath until Lucas entered. He descended the shallow half moon
steps to the ballroom, amid his name and title being announced.
While he did so, she felt that flutter in her stomach that his hair
was down and the longish silk of it shone as he bowed over hands
and nodded. There were silver strands in it, and she thought that
he’d be even more devastating when the color all turned, with his
dark skin and violet eyes.

His height and the manner in which he carried
himself, disproved the impression he had insisted she have of him
yester eve. He did look remote and proud, somewhat cool as his
social mask was intact. In addition, standing with her hand on the
duchess’s chair back, she was a bit amazed that this was the man
who waltzed her around a sitting room, the same one who felt warm
and so masculine, real under her fingers, and that those eyes had
peered down between his lashes with a sensual fire that set her
trembling.

It was bad enough that she had changed her
gown three times before the ball, muttered and had the maid shaking
her head as she had talked herself into a nervous fit for the first
time in her life.

She had told herself she’d imagined it all,
and even as she glided down the stairs in her final choice of a
bronze silk gown with faux pearl bodice and clutched her fan in her
ivory-gloved hand hard enough to snap it, she waffled between being
sure he was actually interested in her, and being afraid that she’d
made more of it than it was.

Her hair left straight but in a twist with
nestled pearl combs, had been fixed and re-fixed, curled and
straightened until she’d finally had mercy on Polly and confessed
that she was trying to impress a certain man.

The plain faced maid had grinned and then
said sardonically, “Keep it simple, then, Miss. You are at your
best that way. You are not of the fashion, but unique and striking.
Let them wear their frizzy curls and overdone flounces and jewels.
You’d outshine them in your chemise.”

“Thank you, Polly. Now, do me up, and kick me
out of here. I have wasted enough time and the duchess hates to be
late.” She had laughed.

Rena was not laughing now, but bracing
herself while her skin tingled from head to toe. Her heart beat a
rapid thump behind her ribs. He was coming closer, though he had
not looked at her. He was detained repeatedly, while the ballroom
filled up with guest after guest.

Finally he came right toward he. His violet
eyes went down and up her body so thoroughly before he reached her,
that her knees went weak.

He bowed first to the duchess and had some
conversation with her half-deaf aunt. The music began, making Rena
jump as she was so focused on keeping her poise and composure,
smoothing her features by the time he straightened and took a step,
which put him right in front of her.

He did not bow or kiss her hand. That social
mask dropped and his sensual mouth pulled into a smile that nearly
melted her through the floor.

“Good evening.”

“Good evening.” She dared a small smile
feeling the depth of his tone flood her with warmth.

His eyes held hers. “Will you dance with
me?”

“Yes.” She placed her hand in the one he
extended.

Rena did not know who else or how many other
dancers there were. She did not even mind that the space became
more crowded. She kept his gaze, as he did not seem to want to look
from her, and she floated for the length of the tune, lost herself
in the attention of the man she’d dreamed of having to herself.

When the dance ended, she took his arm to
exit the floor. He left her to procure champagne. After handing her
a glass, while sipping his own, he stood there with her, watching
the crowd and seemed oblivious to the number of people staring at
him.

Rena was not. She sipped and she tried, and
she felt his heat in the small inches that separated her arm from
his, but she noticed the people who looked between them. She could
guess that they were wondering why she had gained the notice of
such a lofty and handsome man.

He leaned to the side, saying under the
music, “It is my age, or rather the difference between our ages
that is garnering the stares.”

Startled she met his gaze. “No, what the
devil has that to do with anything?”

His smile came again. “Nothing to my
mind.”

“It is because they are wondering who in the
world I am.” She insisted.

“I doubt that. Your brother is well known. I
am fairly certain it is because a woman as young and as beautiful
as you, should be pared with one of those handsome fellows your
age…”

Rena snorted, then realized he actually did
think that, regardless if those who looked at them did or not. She
realized that this handsome man was trying to ease his own concern
that she may have some silly problem with his age.

She took a sip from her glass and then turned
as if looking beyond his shoulder to tell him, “At the risk of
sounding improper, I confess that I haven’t given a thought to your
age in all the years I have noticed you, my lord.” She cleared her
throat. “I do not think there is a peer in London, at any age, save
my brother and perhaps Jerome, who comes close to being as
attractive. And still, they lack certain…” She shrugged and ignored
the fact her face was flushed. “I have always noticed you,” she
finished simply.

Rena knew he was looking at her, and she
waited several anxious heartbeats before she turned her eyes to his
face. The intense stillness had her stomach cinching, until she
noticed that his eyes held a certain sensual heat and pleasure.

“Do not worry about propriety around me,
Verena. I fished for that, for very honest reasons.”

She swallowed and husked, “I am not
interested in any male my age. I never have been. Nor have I
bemoaned my status as the duchess does. I have always noticed you,
from my very first season.”

His eyes became even more mysterious, as if
his thoughts were mists amid the violet. “And I you.”

“You may call me, Rena.” She smiled a little
nervously.

“My name is Lucas,” he said though his
thoughts seemed to be somewhere ahead of those words.

“Lucas.” She nodded slightly and released a
tense breath. “You do not mind my age?”

“I do not mind anything about you, Rena.”

Tingles spread over her skin. “You scarcely
know me.”

“Would you like to rectify that?”

“Yes.” She knew he had watched carefully for
her reply.

“Let us start with your pastimes…aside from
trying cheroots.” He teased quietly.

“Oh, dear.” Her eyes twinkled. “I fear I
enjoy doing many things out of doors. I ride and fish, I hunt and
have been known to dig in the dirt with the Gardner at Brydon
house.”

She glanced away as he was listening so
intently it made her nervous. “I had all the proper training, but
truthfully, Bram plays and paints better than I do. We spent much
of our time trying the patience of our tutors, and slipping out of
doors instead of studying. I like to read, to picnic and to take
rambling walks. I sing only in church, and I like to laugh.”

She looked back at him. “I only cry when
something moves me intensely, and I…I cannot think of what else to
say.”

“You enjoy the opera?”

She nodded, sensing he knew that. “I like
music. I enjoy simple things and artistic things. What of you, do
you have hobbies?”

“I play cards, box at the gym, ride, and like
you, spend a lot of time out of doors. I sail and I cannot play a
blessed thing, nor can draw a straight line.” He grinned somewhat.
“I read and…I work.”

“I heard that. My brother said you had worked
very hard for many years.” She looked around and then back at him.
“You dance very well, too. Tonight, but last evening
particularly.”

He chuckled and she delighted in that sound,
and his white smile.

“I thank you, considering we were somewhat
constrained.”

“I scarcely noticed,” she admitted
softly.

His smile faded and that heat was in his gaze
again. “What shall I bring your brother for Christmas?”

“Hmmm. Aside from brandy, I don’t know.” She
laughed. “I got him a horribly bright coat, since he can and does
buy himself whatever he wishes to. I always buy something to amuse
and shock him. Last year I had a robe made for him in some eye
smarting yellow flowers and red stripes. He wore the thing over his
clothing all day.”

Lucas laughed. “Well. I cannot out do that,
but I shall try to think of something. And you?”

“Oh. He bought me a straw hat the size of our
card table. It had so many bows and flowers.” She chuckled.

“I mean, what shall I bring you?”

She flushed. “Nothing. Just, join us.”

He shook his head, then, “Have you a
pet?”

“No, not of my own. Bram has a lovable old
dog and there are tabbies around Brydon…”

“Birds?”

She nodded. “I like birds.”

He took a swallow from his glace, looked
around, and then back at her. “Do you know what I want?”

Her breath stuck in her throat and she shook
her head slowly.

His head leaned toward her and he murmured,
“You, Rena. I want you.”

Somewhere in the thunder and roar of her
heart, the surge of her blood, she remembered to breathe. Still
felt like she had not. Here she was in the middle of a ballroom,
likely a hundred eyes on him, and he’d said words that she wanted
to rasp and ask him to say once more, simply to assure herself that
she’d heard right.

Rena must have looked stunned, for he took
her arm and led her around the crowd, stopping to deposit their
glasses and onward to the only exit available.

The snow came down thick but he paused,
keeping her just under the roof overhang, to the right of the
French door he had opened. Even as the cold air struck her, she was
blocked from the worst of it as he put her against the exterior
wall and stood in front of her, his warm hands sliding up her
arms.

She saw his head descending, his lashes at
half-mast, and then she was enfolded in his arms while his warm
mouth covered her own.

Her hands slid just under his jacket, against
his incredibly warm body. Rena closed her eyes while his lips
brushed in some truly erotic and sensual manner over hers, and then
in a small circle, before his tongue teased the seam for entry.

She opened and moaned, lifting on her toes
and holding tighter when that smooth and velvet tongue laved over
and under hers. He did it unhurried and easy, though she could feel
a tension in him.