Mistletoe and Mayhem - Cheryl Bolen Page 0,195

that?"

"Things to do when the mistletoe runs out."

He laughed. "I hope it never does."

She tilted her head, and it seemed that her smile dimmed slightly. "It is bound to. It always does."

Before he could quiz her further, she tossed his breeches at him, pretending to tap her foot impatiently.

"I would hope to see that particular gesture when I am slow at removing them, not donning them."

"I will repeat it when we return, after I have sated my appetite." She laughed at his exaggerated eyebrow wiggling. "For food."

He pulled the breeches on, giving her a mock scowl. "Let us see what sort of food might sate you, Lorelei the temptress. I cannot wait to find out."

Lorelei sat on the settee, facing the roaring fire, yet her attention was split between the tray Desmond placed on a nearby table, and the sight of a near-blizzard outside the parlor's French doors.

"Hopefully there is enough food to see us through this storm," she commented. "I did not expect it to continue this long."

"I believe we shall be fine. This is just a portion of what I found in the kitchens." He had filled the tray with cheeses, and cold meats, and rolls, along with an array of desserts. "Though I am not certain I can utilize the stove, so we may have to content ourselves with this for now."

"I am perfectly content." The words brought a smile to his face, and she worried he might misinterpret the meaning. She was perfectly content, but it did not mean it could be sustained well into the future. She brushed aside the thoughts, sitting forward so she could survey the food. "I shall fill a plate for you if you would find some wine."

"That is easily managed."

She piled his plate with everything imaginable, handing it to him when he returned with a bottle of claret. He set the wine on the table, along with two glasses.

"I did not think I had put that much on the tray," he commented. "Clearly you mean to see that I am well fortified."

She gave him a wink. "And plied with drink."

He took the plate and nestled next to her on the settee. "Now you shall have to pour the wine for us."

She did, and they sipped it, nibbling on the food in a companionable silence. She did not usually care for quiet, afraid it signaled disinterest, as it had happened that way in her marriage. Yet she was surprisingly satisfied in that particular moment.

Was it possible things could be different?

Desmond leaned toward her and motioned for her to open her mouth. "Is that not the best pickle you have ever tasted?"

Her face wrinkled up at the sour taste. "I am not usually enamored of them."

He chuckled, handing her a roll. She tore off a piece and chewed it. When she had swallowed, he murmured, "I must note that pickles are not to be added to the tray next time."

"Are you memorizing which foods I like and dislike?"

He nodded, taking another sip of wine. "I want to know all of your likes and dislikes." He winked. "How else can I sate every one of your desires?"

"I like your strategy. I must know all of yours, as well."

"I shall start then. I prefer beefsteak to salmon, and spring peas to carrots, though what I find most enjoyable is that sound you made when you were about to come apart in my arms. Twice."

She laughed. "I should be blushing at your outrageousness, but I find myself wanting to compete with it."

"Just as I had hoped."

Lorelei grinned, pondering how she should respond. "I prefer salmon to beefsteak, and carrots are superior to spring peas." She took a long sip of wine, relishing his visible impatience. "And when I was imagining kissing you, I did not let my thoughts stop there."

His eyebrows flew upwards. "And?"

"My imagination was paltry in comparison. Though just to be sure, perhaps later—"

"Of course. I quite agree we should see how they compare." He took a bit of cheese and chewed it thoughtfully. "What is it like to be married?"

Lorelei nearly choked on her wine at the unexpected question. She could see that he was quite earnest, however. She was not certain she wished to spend their time together with such a weighty subject, so she quipped, "That was definitely much better in my imagination."

"Truly? Why was that?" When she did not reply, he was instantly apologetic. "I did not mean to pry. I have spent my entire life having my parents'