And the way he looked at her made her heart soar. There was no other word for it—like the breeze beneath a bird’s wings, it lifted her and held her aloft.
How would she ever manage life without him when he returned to America?
She set aside the concerning thought. There would be time enough to worry over such things after Christmas.
“The holly should be easier to collect,” he said as he looked over the area to where she’d pointed.
“Let us hope so. I wouldn’t want to take any further risks with your life,” she said with a teasing smile.
“I might escape the day without injury after all.”
They made it to the holly and made quick work of collecting a pile. As they paused for a moment, admiring their efforts, Frances realized they were quite alone.
Voices and laughter could be heard in the distance, but no one was in sight.
Flutters in her middle had her licking her suddenly dry lips as awareness washed over her. This was a rare moment. One that demanded action. This could be her one and only chance to make a bold move. To do something to show Thomas how much he was coming to mean to her.
She risked a glance at him only to see that he was staring at her. Her breath caught in her throat.
“Frances.” He turned to face her in full. As if they were drawn together, she did the same.
Her attention dropped to his finely molded lips, and she couldn’t help but wonder what it might be like to be kissed by him.
The thought was enough to have her jerking her gaze back to his, hoping—praying—that he didn’t realize what she was thinking.
“I should very much like to kiss you,” he said quietly as he reached for her hand.
“Oh?” Blast it. She nearly groaned at the inane reply.
“If you wouldn’t mind.” He eased nearer, and she nodded, not wanting to ruin the moment with another ridiculous response.
He moved closer still. But he was taking too long. They could be interrupted at any moment. Unwilling to risk it, she stretched toward him, and their lips touched.
Once. Twice. Then the kiss drew long.
Her body hummed, much like an instrument playing a note in perfect alignment with a tuning fork. Before she had the chance to absorb the beauty of the moment, voices, louder than before, caught her notice.
Thomas drew back, his eyes dark with...what? She didn’t know. Didn’t dare to guess.
A single snowflake fell from the grey sky and landed on his cheek, quickly melting, suggesting he was as heated as she was. Then another caught on his lashes. Yet she couldn’t appreciate the beauty of them when her thoughts were so taken with the man himself.
“Thomas, I—” But the words wouldn’t come. She had no idea how to express what she was feeling.
As if he understood her, he pulled her to him all at once and kissed her again. This time was different. Not the gentle touch from before. This time he seemed intent on exploring what was between them fully.
His tongue pressed against the seam of her lips, and she eagerly opened for him. The feel of him so intimately inside her sent a spear of desire straight through her. A hint of the wassail he’d had earlier mixed with the taste of him. It was wonderful, and she wanted more.
Be bold, Frances, she told herself.
She returned all he was doing to her, sliding her tongue along his, pressing closer, impatient for more.
He murmured something unintelligible, suggesting he was enjoying the moment as much as she was.
Suddenly, he drew back, his eyes wide as they held on her. He took a step away. Then another.
Cold air rushed in where his warm body had been pressed against her only a moment ago, and she stared at him in confusion. Only then did the sound of voices, much closer now, penetrate the fog in her mind.
Thomas smiled, the way he looked at her so sweetly filled her cheeks with heat. Then he reached down to pick up several pieces of holly and handed one to her.
