Mistletoe and Mayhem - Cheryl Bolen Page 0,272

crumbling ruin of a home. Nor had she spent time in Wales during the bitter depths of winter. At the moment, he had little to offer other than his name and two cash-strapped estates.

If I push the romance side of things and she agrees to marry me, what happens if she decides that she cannot live that life?

If he took Wister to be his wife and she hated living in Wales, she would have simply swapped her miserable life at Kington House for another damp, cold prison.

And you would lose her forever.

Chapter Seventeen

Wister rose from her chair near the stove as the door to the kitchen opened. “I was just waiting a few more minutes for the top of the pastry to brown,” she said.

He crossed the floor in an instant. He hauled her into his arms. A breathy ‘oh’ escaped her lips.

“I am so sorry, Wister. I made a pickle of things last night and again this morning,” he said.

She wrapped her arms around him, holding on with all her might. When Rhys brushed a wayward curl back from her face, Wister closed her eyes and softly sighed.

Please. Please kiss me.

“I am going to kiss you, Miss York, but I am warning you, I am not going to apologize afterwards. In fact, I intend to kiss you for quite some time, and you are simply going to have to suffer my attentions,” he said.

She opened her eyes and grinned up at him. “I am ready to suffer all and any kisses you feel necessary, Baron Carno.”

As his lips met hers, Wister’s heart melted. He did want her. Rhys speared his fingers through her hair and cupped her head gently in his hands. His tongue slipped into her mouth, where it settled to play and tease against hers. It had only been a day since he had first kissed her, but it felt like an eternity.

She gasped as he slipped a hand over her ass and pulled her roughly against him. His hard erection leaving her in no doubt as to how this moment was affecting him. Heat pooled between her legs—Rhys was not alone in being aroused. The thought of him touching her, of being naked in his arms, set Wister’s heart racing.

The tiny voice of reason whispered in the back of her mind. Is this what you want? Are you prepared to settle for being his mistress? You will never have a life of your own if you do.

No. She couldn’t do it. But before she could pull away, Rhys broke the kiss and drew back. Her gaze immediately dropped to the floor and she steeled herself for the hard words she would have to say. To tell him that despite all that she felt for him, her self-respect would never allow her to become a kept woman.

A finger touched under her chin, lifting her head. A green-eyed Welsh god stared back at her. “I’ve reconsidered the offer I made to you this morning.”

Her heart stopped beating. “Yes.”

“I don’t need an estate manager—well I do but that’s not what I have in mind for you. I want you to be something else.”

She slowly shook her head. Rhys really did struggle with his words at times. But she sensed that his heart was in the right place. He screwed up his face, as if still searching for the right words.

“I know this sounds all rather strange, but before we settle on your future, I need you to understand a little more about me. About my life. That’s why I want you to come to Wales. Stay at Carno Castle, learn more about my family’s heritage, then we can talk,” he said.

Wales. She had never thought to actually venture across the border. Her travels thus far had only got her as far as London and now Kington House.

Things were still not clear and settled between them, but her heart told her she had to take this chance and go with him. If she didn’t, she may spend the rest of her life wondering and regretting. Forever asking herself…what if?

He leaned in and kissed her once more. Rhys appeared to have a plan set in his mind. As she opened her lips and let him deepen the kiss, Wister let go of her worries. She would have to trust whatever he was thinking. Her heart had already proclaimed it wanted a future with him.

She just had to get him to put the right words in the right order at some point.