“Really? I think it’s time for something else.” Benedict reached down and grabbed a handful of snow, packing it into a ball. “This snowman needs a little more…” He spun and lobbed the snowball at Amelia.
It hit her chest, ice crystals smacking her in the face and finding the sliver of bare skin above her collar. She blinked. “What on earth are you doing?”
“Have you never been in a snow fight, princess?”
“Absolutely not.” What kind of barbarians pelted each other with snow?
Benedict and Cassandra exchanged grins, simultaneously kneeled, and gathered up snow.
“Don’t you dare.” Amelia took a few backward steps.
Their grins just widened.
“Benedict Asterly—”
Cassandra’s snowball hit her on the shoulder. It was followed quickly by his. The kiss had been confusing. This was incomprehensible. And apparently not over—the siblings were stockpiling snowballs, so she turned and ran.
Benedict stood between her and the house, so she fled for the trees, but Cassandra intercepted her.
“This is not funny.” Amelia stood, arms akimbo, and infused as much authority into her voice as possible.
Cassandra didn’t move.
“Miss Asterly,” she said calmly, “a lady never—” A snowball hit Amelia in the back of the head, leaving a cold, wet trail down her neck.
To blazes with calm. “That’s it.” She turned and scooped up her own handful of snow, flinging it at Benedict. It disintegrated in the air in front of her. “Drat.” She scooped up another handful, patted it into a solid ball, and threw it.
He didn’t flinch as it hit him directly in the chest—simply smiled. A snowball came flying over her shoulder and hit him in the jaw. His smile faded.
Amelia couldn’t help herself, she grinned as Cassandra whooped with joy. As long as it was the two of them against him, this game had some appeal.
She grabbed another handful and formed a ball as Benedict stalked toward them. She ducked out of his reach, skirting behind him, and launched, getting him in the back of the knees.
“Aha! I win,” she said as he lost his balance.
He recovered quickly and shook his head before resuming his approach.
Or maybe not…
“Nowhere to run now, princess,” he said when he was only a couple of feet away. They faced off, each with a ball in hand.
His face was so full of mock outrage that she laughed. She hadn’t had so much fun since…Actually, she’d never had this kind of fun. Fun that wasn’t tightly laced and formally packaged.
She let the snowball loose as he closed the gap between them. It splattered over his face, leaving snow caught in his eyelashes and on the stubble of his jaw.
Then he dumped his snowball on the top of her head.
“Oh…Oooh…” The cold was entirely unpleasant. “You are…”
He grinned triumphantly and then grabbed her around the waist, scooping her into his arms.
“Come on, poppet. Time to get our ice princess inside.”
Chapter11
His bedroom smelled like jasmine and pear. In the ten days since their marriage, her scent had become annoyingly, arousingly familiar. His cock twitched at the memory of her curves beneath his hands.
Kissing her had been the most terrifying thing he’d done in years. He’d been convinced—right up until she leaned into him—that she’d pull away, chastising him for daring to think a man like him could kiss a woman like her.
