Before he could be tempted to deepen the kiss, he pulled away, smiling down into her dazed expression. “There is alsothatto commend skating.”
“I think you are persuading me the art of ice skating may not be solely reserved for madmen after all,” she said, staring at his lips as the snowflakes danced around them.
Another surreptitious glance revealed everyone else was still distracted. “Are you entirely persuaded, my lady?”
Catching on to his game, she shook her head in the negative, her countenance grave. “I do believe I require some additional persuasion, Lord Harry. If you are able to offer some, that is.”
He skated them in a circle, kissing her soundly as he did so, this time allowing his tongue to trace the seam of her lips and then sink inside for a taste before lifting his mouth from hers. “How about now?”
“Hmm.” She pretended to contemplate. “Perhaps just a bit more.”
Laughing with unrestrained joy, he kissed her yet again. Kissed her harder, open-mouthed and hungry, forgetting where they were, forgetting they possessed an audience, forgetting he was meant to act with propriety. Until the sound of skates carving the ice pierced the fog of desire clouding his brain.
He broke away from Lady Alexandra as Spencer and Boadicea skated toward them.
“Try to conduct yourself with a regard for the proprieties, brother,” Spencer cautioned, every bit the icy duke with his reproach before he winked, softening the grim starch of his countenance. “I would hate to see Ravenscroft break your nose as he threatened. The Marlow family nose is perfectly straight, you know, Lady Alexandra. I daresay you would not like Harry’s pretty face to become so afflicted, would you?”
Boadicea gave Spencer a playful swat. “Do behave, husband.”
“Me?” he asked with mock innocence. “Behave? Wherever did you get such a ludicrous notion?”
Their love for each other was as nauseating as ever. But this time, it did not nettle him. Did not burrow beneath his skin or chafe him. This time, he held a woman in his arms who was warm and lovely and sweet-scented.
“Julian did not dare to threaten your nose, did he?” Lady Alexandra demanded, searching Harry’s gaze.
“Not in so many words, my dear,” he soothed, shooting his brother a venomous look of stern reproach. One day, he would get even with the blighter. One day. “If you will excuse us, I am doing my utmost to teach Lady Alexandra how to ice skate.”
Slowly, he guided her across the frozen lake, putting some distance between them and his laughing brother, who was once again enjoying himself far too much. As Harry watched, Spencer whispered something into Boadicea’s ear, and she threw back her head for a delighted laugh.
He turned his attention to the woman in his arms as he held her tightly round the waist and led her farther away. A snowflake stuck to her lashes, then another to her lips before melting. She was stunning, like some sort of pagan ice goddess come to life. And she was his. All his.
“You need not fear for my nose,” he told her at last with a smile. “I have every intention of winning you over.”
She gazed up at him as if she were seeing him, truly seeing him for the first time. “I am beginning to fear you already have, my lord.”
He could not quell the raging rush of desire and happiness that assailed him at her words. How grateful he was he had taken her skating, for what better excuse to hold her in his arms?
He suppressed the urge to kiss her again, tamping it ruthlessly down. “Good. That is precisely what I wish to hear.”
The day was bright all around them, filled with the brilliance of the sun reflecting off all that pure snow. Flurries continued to dance from the sky in intervals. They skated for hours, hand in hand, until their cheeks were flushed, until they were laughing, until they had stolen at least half a dozen more kisses from each other when heads were turned.
The ice did not crack, and neither did anyone break a limb, though Lady Alexandra did fall on her rump once, much to her chagrin. Afterward, they shared warm mulled wine and sat beneath furs, watching the snow as it began to fall in earnest. The sensation in Harry’s chest blossomed and swelled.
It had a name: happiness.
And it had a source: Lady Alexandra Danvers.
