It Happened One Christmas (29 page)

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Authors: Kaitlin O'Riley

BOOK: It Happened One Christmas
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“You did everything and nothing at all. You were simply you.” He paused and placed his hand under her chin, tilting her face up to his. “Lisette, you made me fall in love with you.”
“You're . . . You are in love with me?” The very words made her feel hot and shaky inside. A wave of dizziness washed over her. She blinked.
“Madly in love with you.” His voice was like velvet.
“Oh, I see.” Coherent words, clever responses all eluded her.
“But now I have another dilemma.”
“Which is?” Her heart pounded wildly.
“I am in love with you. But you, Lisette, you are still engaged to Henry Brooks.”
“Oh, but I am not!” she cried out in surprise.
Now it was Quinton's turned to be stunned. He dropped his hand from her face and his eyes widened. “You're not?”
She shook her head, a faint smile beginning to spread across her face.
“Since when?” he questioned.
“A week ago. I broke off with him.”
“You did?” He was incredulous but enormously pleased.
“Yes.” She nodded happily, a wild thrill of elation racing through every nerve in her body. He was no longer engaged and neither was she. They were both free.
“Why did no one tell me? How did I not hear?”
“I don't know.”
He thought for a moment. “You had broken off with him before the Christmas Ball at the Duke of Rathmore's?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you tell me that night?”
“You were still engaged, remember?”
“Yes . . .” His eyes narrowed on her. “Why did you break off with Henry?”
“Because I could not in good conscience marry him.” She hesitated for a fraction of a second. Her eyes meeting his, she saw everything she'd ever wanted in Quinton Roxbury, and her heart flipped over in her chest. “Because I am in love with you.”
“Ah, Lisette.” Quinton pulled her to him in a sudden movement.
For the first time, she moved into the warm circle of his arms with a completely clear conscience. They had not intended for any of this to happen. They had only bumped into each other one day and their lives were never to be the same. Lisette breathed in his scent and sighed, drawing comfort from the strength that encircled her.
“You have turned my world upside down and I am glad of it.” He placed a sweet, soft kiss on her lips. He then cupped her chin in his palm once again, tilting her face up to look in her eyes. “I want to marry you, Lisette Hamilton. I want to make a life with you by my side.”
Nothing would make her happier than spending the rest of her life with this man. She would do anything for him. He had come into her life out of nowhere, and with him he brought a vividness, a vibrancy, and a purpose to her life that had been lacking. He inspired her and filled her with emotions she had only dreamed of and read about. With him she felt more herself than she had ever felt with Henry Brooks.
“I want you, too, Quinton.”
“If you want me even half as much as I want you, you'll make me the happiest man in the world.” His mouth covered hers in a searing and possessive kiss, leaving no doubt how he felt about her.
This kiss made her shiver in anticipation. Hot and hungry, their mouths joined, and Lisette responded with complete abandon. Her arms moved around his neck, and he pulled her closer. Her mouth parted and his tongue met with hers. Desire flickered through her, fast and furious.
There were no restrictions on them anymore. He was free. He was hers. A thrill of happiness surged within her and she wanted to give herself to him.
29
That Glorious Song of Old
Alone in the bookshop on Christmas Eve with snow falling outside, Lisette kissed Quinton Roxbury with absolute indulgence and without an ounce of guilt. Never had she felt such joy mingled with unrestrained passion. His hands moved around her, stroking her back while stoking the fire that smoldered within her. She wanted him desperately. Wanted to feel him. All of him.
Lisette pulled away from his kiss. “Wait.” She could barely catch her breath, could barely find the wherewithal to speak.
Disappointment shadowed his face. “Yes, of course, if you—”
“No.” She shook her head, her body trembling. “Let's go upstairs.”
“Upstairs?” His brows drew together in confusion.
“Follow me,” Lisette whispered.
She took his hand in hers and led him to the staircase at the back of the shop. Opening the door, she continued up the steps to the rooms above where her family had lived for so many years. The space had been refurnished and repurposed, but two bedrooms still remained. They lit the lamps, and he followed her into one of the bedchambers, with a large bed in the center. The air chilled them and Quinton quickly and expertly started a fire in the fireplace. The room was still cold, but the promise of coming warmth comforted them.
Lisette shivered but only because she was cold. She should be nervous, but she wasn't. Not a bit. It surprised her, this lack of nervousness, yet thrilled her at the same time. What she was about to do was scandalous. But she was going to do it anyway. Placing a lit candle on the bedside table, she turned to face Quinton. His blond hair glistened like gold in the firelight, and the lines of his face seemed more striking, more masculine in the shadows. The look of intense desire in his expression captivated her. This was not like the night in his carriage. This night was something else entirely.
Again, Quinton drew her to him, holding her against his warm body. Her arms wrapped around his neck, reveling in the solidness of him, soaking up his being. She loved the feel of him.
“You are sure you want to do this?” he asked, his voice low and husky with longing.
Her breath caught in her chest. “Yes. More than anything.”
His mouth slanted over hers in response, igniting the yearning fire within her once again. She surrendered to it, letting herself become a part of him. Nothing about their meeting or falling in love had been proper or traditional. They both had belonged to others. Now they belonged only to each other. So why should this be any different? Why should she wait until they were married? She had waited her whole life to feel this way, to feel loved and wanted.
And now she wanted Quinton.
With deft fingers, he began to remove the pins that held her hair so neatly in place. Her thick, auburn tresses fell softly around her shoulders, hanging nearly to her waist. She shook her head. His fingers splayed through her hair, loosening it even more.
“God, I've wanted to do that since the day I met you,” he whispered, breathing in the clean, lavender scent of her hair.
He grinned as he carefully removed the locket that he had just given her. He placed it on the nightstand. Then he undid the hooks of her plaid gown, slowly, carefully. He eased the fabric down around her. She stepped out of the gown with his assistance and some rueful smiles at the cumbersomeness of her attire. Lisette stood before him in only her corset and chemise. Together they untied the laces of her corset, releasing the tightness that bound her body. Left in nothing but her chemise, she waited, trembling in anticipation.
Without words, Quinton removed his jacket and shirt. She reached out to touch him, fascinated by the broad planes of his bare, muscled chest. The warmth of his skin felt wonderful, and she wished she could curl into him and absorb his heat. As if reading her thoughts, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bed, laying her against the cool counterpane and covering her body with his own. His warmth penetrated her, seeped within her very being.
Her mouth sought his with a feverish, hungry need. He kissed her, as she wanted him to. His tongue, hot and slick, intertwined with hers, causing potent desire to unfurl deep and low within her. Mesmerized by the masculine feel of his body, she ran her fingers along the taut muscles of his back, sensing the innate strength that lay beneath. A man's body, so large and broad, layered with firm muscles and unexpected softness and warmth, fascinated her. His strong arms held her while his lips moved over her skin, burning a path down her throat, sending shivers of delight to the tips of her toes.
With surprising skill, Quinton helped her out of her chemise, leaving her chest bare to him. He lowered his head, placing delicate kisses over her breasts, his heated tongue laving her nipples. Lisette thought she would faint from the wonder of it all.
In a bed with this man, she could barely take it all in. As if all of her dreams were suddenly coming true, she melted into him, arching her body against him. The hard evidence of his arousal thrilled her, and frightened her a little, too. She held her breath in anticipation of the next delight he had in store for her, her hands braced against his bare shoulders.
The heat of the fire began to take the chill out of the air. Lost in the feel of each other, they had already begun to make their own heat. A heat that seemed as if it would consume them both.
“Quinton,” she whispered on a frantic breath.
“I love when you say my name.”
So of course, Lisette whispered it again and again.
He rained kisses on her face, her cheeks, her neck. His mouth returned to her breasts, sucking her nipples. Her body trembling with need, she cried out with pleasure as longing surged within her. Breaking from her, he removed his trousers and underclothes. Casting a quick glance below, she gasped at the sight of him. With a hesitant hand she reached out to touch him, amazed at the silky warmth of his male body. He groaned low and pulled her toward him once again. Naked body against naked body, they fell back into the pillows, their mouths meeting in a fervent kiss.
She opened to him and held her breath. He entered in a swift and sure motion. She gasped at the intrusion. He stilled and murmured her name. Their eyes met in the darkness. Unable to speak, she leaned forward to kiss him, to let him know she wanted him, and then he continued to move within her. Arching her back to meet him, Lisette gave in to the new sensations that swept over her body.
He grew more urgent in his movements, and she matched him stroke for stroke. She held on to him, clinging to his broad shoulders, never imagining that two people could be this close. Her breathing became shallower as she followed his movements and began to move her hips against him, wanting something she was unaware even existed. Soon she was consumed by a wave of bliss that enveloped her entire being, sending her spinning into a spiral of pleasure that left her faint and dizzy. He called her name as he shuddered at his own release, burying his face in her neck.
Completely spent, they lay in each other's arms, warm even though the fire had died to glowing embers. In the glow of candlelight, they wrapped themselves in blankets and held each other tightly. Lisette languished in the aftermath of sensations that left her body as weak as a little kitten. Never had she done anything that had felt so right than being in Quinton Roxbury's naked embrace. More comfortable with this type of intimacy than she had a right to be, she smiled to herself.
“Where are we anyway?” he asked in the flickering darkness.
“In my old bedroom.”
“Seriously?”
“Mmm-hmm.” She snuggled against him, her naked legs intertwined with his, her head resting on his broad chest. “I grew up in this room.”
“Why, Miss Hamilton,” he scolded her with mock indignation, “you are quite the scandal. Inviting a man into your bedroom.
Tsk-tsk
.”
Giggling, she kissed him with reckless abandon. Yes, she was scandalous. And for once in her life, she didn't care at all that she was.
“I'm glad you did invite me up here.” He kissed her mouth, his hand gently caressing her back, stroking her long hair.
“Me, too.”
“This is not how I expected this evening to end when I came to the shop.”
“What did you expect?” she asked.
“I simply wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas and give you the locket. And of course, tell you that I was no longer engaged to be married. I hoped you would be happy to hear that.”
Lisette had a grin from ear to ear. “I was very happy to hear that.”
“Yes, but I didn't know that you had broken your engagement. Henry has been a part of your life for so long and you've only known me for a few weeks. I wasn't sure what you wanted.”
His voice was so honest and his uncertainty touched her deeply. He always seemed so self-assured that it was almost impossible to imagine Quinton nervous about seeing her. Lisette rose and rested her head on her arm. “What I wanted was you, Quinton.”
He kissed her lips, caressing her face with his fingers. “Good God, I love you, Lisette.”
“And I love you.”
“I knew it would be like this with you.”
“Like what?” she questioned, placing a kiss on his chest.
“Perfect.”
“Really?” she asked, filled with female pride at pleasing him. “I had no idea what I was doing.”
“Trust me.” He patted her derriere. “You did just fine.”
She slid her naked body over his, covering him. “Like this?”
“Yes. Like that. See? You're a natural.” His mouth sought hers in a passionate kiss.
An unstoppable heat, swift and strong, grew between them. Liquid currents of desire coursed through Lisette's veins as her tongue swept into his mouth. She didn't think it was possible to feel this aroused again, to want him so desperately so soon after they had just had each other. But she did want him and she let him know it by her kisses, which became more ardent. She soon found herself astride him. Thrilled by this change of position and the power it afforded her, she began to move with undulating waves of her hips, causing Quinton to moan with delight.
With a sudden turn, he shifted his weight over her, his muscular body now covering hers. He thrust deep within her and once again they lost themselves in each other. This time was different, though. Lisette knew what to expect and could anticipate what she wanted and move her body to get it. Clinging to him, she cried out as that incredible burst of blissfulness washed over her. A few moments later, he growled her name as he found his own pleasure.
Afterward they lay in each other's arms, just holding each other.
“If this is an example of married life,” Lisette said, still breathing heavily, “I am going to be a very contented wife.”
“I plan on making sure that you are,” Quinton promised with a wicked gleam in his eyes. “Every single night.”
“Then you had better marry me very soon, Mr. Roxbury.”
“That was my thought exactly, Miss Hamilton.” He kissed her cheek. “There will be talk about us, you know. No matter how I tried to smooth things over with Lady Emmeline and her father. Are you prepared to face that with me?”
“With you, yes.” She nodded, quite sure she could weather any storm to be with Quinton. “Are you?”
“Absolutely. The gossip will die down eventually, as it always does. I will postpone any political overtures for a bit longer, though, and wait until the time is right. As long as you are with me, Lisette, nothing else really matters.”
“I love you, Quinton.”
“And I love you.”
Lisette rested her head on his chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat, wondering how she had come to love this man so much. Never had she been a part of anything so completely lovely.
Quinton whispered, “As much as I wish I could hold you like this all night long, I should probably take you home now, Lisette. It's very late. Your family must be worried about you.”
“Oh, my heavens!” Lisette bolted upright to a sitting position. “I forgot it was Christmas Eve!”
“Come then,” Quinton said, ever practical. “Let's get you home.”
“It's almost midnight,” she worried. “What shall I say to everyone when they ask where I've been all night?”
“We'll think of something.”
With great reluctance they rose from the warm bed and began to dress hurriedly in the cold of the room, amid playful laughter together. Quinton helped her with the buttons on her dress, but he seemed to unbutton them more than fasten them. It was a wonder they ever finished dressing, the way that they kept stopping to kiss each other. Then he clasped the locket around her neck once again. Lisette was just straightening up the bedclothes when they heard a heavy knock on the bedroom door. They both froze and stared at each other with wide eyes.

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