“But tops? Hobbyhorses? He’s too old for all this.”
“What did you get for Christmas the year you were thirteen?”
“A horse. A real one.”
That gained him a glorious Franny laugh. He held his hand out. “Let me take you where we can get him something he’ll want.”
She put her hand in his and let him lead her out of the toy shop. He liked that she trusted him. And, yes, they were both gloved—hers knit, his leather, he needed to get her some better gloves along with better boots, was there such a thing as red leather?—but her hand felt so good in his. So right.
Outside in the street, she stopped walking. He turned to look back at her and her face was pointed at the sky.
“Look, Kit. Snow.”
Yes, there were a few flakes falling. He stepped closer and gazed right down at her. A snowflake caught in her eyelash. Another landed on her cheek and melted.
Her eyes shifted to his face. “You’re standing awfully near,” she whispered.
“Yes.”
Suddenly she was fleeing, tugging on his hand, pulling him into an alley as she laughed.
“What are we doing?” he protested.
“You’re kissing me in the snow.”
“I am?”
“Yes.” She went in her pocket of her pelisse and pulled out a small, green leaf. “It fell off the twig yesterday. I came prepared.”
He unbuttoned his greatcoat and stepped up to her and wrapped it around her. He felt her arms snake around his middle.
“Don’t lose the mistletoe,” he said.
“Mmmmm. I won’t. I like this already.” She smiled and he saw the gap between her front teeth.
“Shhh.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m kissing you.”
And despite his vow that he would botch the next kiss he gave her, he didn’t. He couldn’t. He wanted her to enjoy the kiss, to mold herself against him, to kiss him back. Just before he ended the kiss, he licked the seam of her lips oh-so-very lightly. And she just slightly parted her lips for him as he did so.
Ah. Good God. She must feel his cockstand pressing against her now.
He put his forehead to hers, not letting go of her. “I’m sorry about . . .”
She smiled. “Your maypole? I’m not. You flatterer, you.”
He tookher to a jeweler’s.
She looked at him thoughtfully. “Are you buying a ring here for your future duchess?”
“No. We’re buying your brother a watch.”
She covered her mouth with her hand. “A watch? Oh, no, I can’t afford that.”
He raised his brows, reminding her.
