Beauty Tempts the Beast (Sins for All Seasons #6) - Lorraine Heath Page 0,97

I stirred your fire. Shall I stir it once more before you take your leave?”

Chapter 22

Althea feared—as she sat beside Benedict on the sofa in the parlor while gifts were being exchanged—that anyone looking at her would be able to discern the wicked things she’d gotten up to during the night.

Before she’d left him, he had indeed stirred her fire and she had stirred his, at the same time, because he’d used his fingers instead of his tongue. Each method had its own advantages, and whenever she thought about him, warmth flushed her cheeks, and she was relatively certain they were as red as if she’d just come in out of the snow.

The babes were too young to really appreciate that they were being given a gift. Robin was striving to teach his wriggling pup to sit, but the rambunctious thing was more interested in exploring his new environs. After a rather spirited discussion in which everyone contributed names, Robin had decided to name the spaniel “Lucky” after declaring “the luckiest thing in the world is finding a home with the Trewloves.”

She was glad she’d brought gifts for the Trewloves because they were giving her things. She’d received a fine bottle of sherry from Thorne and Gillie, an ivory fan from Mick and Aslyn, hair ribbons from Finn and Lavinia, a knitted shawl from Mrs. Trewlove, and a rare first edition copy of A Christmas Carol signed by Charles Dickens from Fancy and Rosemont.

“Happy Christmas,” Aiden said, holding out both hands upon which rested two small boxes.

She took the one nearest to her while Benedict took the other. Usually after handing someone a gift the person moved on, but Aiden stood there rocking back and forth on his heels.

“Are you just going to stand there and watch us?” Benedict asked.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I am.”

While Benedict glared at Aiden, she opened her box. Her breath caught. Gingerly, she took out the miniature portrait of Benedict. It was done in oils, had an ethereal quality to it as though she was looking at it through angel wings. She lifted her gaze to Aiden. “Did you do this?”

“I did.”

“You’re so talented.”

“Do you like the one I did of you?”

“Of me?”

He tipped his head toward Benedict. When she glanced over at him, it was to see him studying a miniature resting in the palm of his hand. A perfect likeness of her.

“How did you manage that? From memory?”

“I sketched you while watching you best Chadbourne.”

“Why?”

“Thought I’d be seeing you again, and might have a need for it.”

Only he hadn’t given it to her; he’d given it to Benedict. “Did we take the wrong boxes?”

He gave her a warm smile. “No.” He walked off.

“I don’t know why Aiden thought you’d want a portrait of me,” Benedict said, a bit of irritation lacing his voice. “We can exchange if you like.”

She studied him, the seriousness in his dark eyes. The shadow of doubt flickered. “Thank you, but I’d rather keep this one.”

And with her winnings, she was going to purchase a locket in which to keep it.

He didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath until she gave him the answer he’d been wanting to hear. Not that he thought she was keeping his miniature for any sentimental reason, but he didn’t want to give up hers. If he was very careful with it, he could trim enough off so he could insert it inside the cover of his timepiece and then he’d always be carrying it around. Whenever he checked the time, he would see her face.

Although he was a bit irritated with Aiden for too closely reading his feelings where she was concerned.

“I have something for you,” she said. Gingerly, as though it was the most precious thing in the world and should be pampered, she placed the box in her reticule and removed a stack of . . . something. She extended one toward him.

It was a long, narrow strip of light blue linen upon which she’d embroidered in red his name and a ship with sails capturing the wind.

“You use it to mark your place in a book. I made one for each of your family members.”

“I’m touched, Thea, that you went to so much bother. They will be as well.”

Her cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink, and he wondered if they’d been the same hue when he’d been nestled between her thighs. So much he didn’t know for certain, so much he wished he did. A room lost