Mistletoe and Mayhem - Cheryl Bolen Page 0,345

water, and she shifted back.

“I-I can’t,” she murmured, uncertain whether she was telling him or herself.

Hugh loosened his hold on her, but she couldn’t seem to step away. Nor did she know what she wanted.

“I’m sorry.” He smiled though worry shaded his expression. “Why is it that I’m always apologizing to you?” He shook his head. “I didn’t mean to take the kiss so far. Having you in my arms makes me lose control.”

Lucy was pleased to know she wasn’t the only one with that problem. Hugh made her feel things she’d never felt before. The sensation was overwhelming, and she had no idea what to do about it.

He bent to pick up the kissing bough she’d dropped then looked at the ceiling. “Shall I hang it on the hook?”

“Yes, please.” She eased back to give him room to step on the chair, appreciating a moment to collect herself.

He easily looped the ribbon over the hook, picked one of the white berries, and handed it to her with a smile.

“Thank you.” She held the berry carefully as she pressed her other hand against her still pounding heart. She feared he’d hooked her affections just as surely as he’d done with the kissing bough. The realization frightened her more than she could say.

“Miss Gray!” Hugh hurried along the pavement in the small village near the Waverly estate. Many of the guests had ventured into town to spend the afternoon doing last-minute shopping.

The snow had melted over the past few days except for a few patches that lingered in the shadows. The bright sun turned the sky a pale shade of blue but was deceiving as the temperature was cold once again.

She turned in surprise. “You’re doing some shopping as well?”

“Yes, I am. Do you mind if I walk with you?”

She hesitated briefly then offered a smile as a delicate pink crept up her cheeks. “Not at all. I’d be honored.”

Hugh hadn’t meant to seek Lucy’s company on this outing. In fact, he’d made certain to ride in the coach behind the one she’d taken so they wouldn’t be together.

He’d only seen her briefly at dinner the previous day as most of the men had spent the day hunting. Emma had joined them for part of the ride, her horsemanship skills impressive. But none of that had kept his thoughts from Lucy.

After the way she’d made him feel during that last kiss as if he could’ve taken her for his own, regardless of his original intent to woo Emma, had given him pause. The situation wasn’t to be taken lightly. Not when he had no restraint when she was near.

But it was Christmas, and their time together was limited. The holiday provided the perfect excuse to give in to his wish to be with her. The house party would soon end, and the chances of him seeing her again were small unless he specifically called on her. Besides, he didn’t want to act like an ass—kissing her one minute and ignoring her the next. He might have the reputation of a rogue, but he was a man of honor.

“What a beautiful day,” she remarked as she glanced at the sky.

“It is indeed. So nice of the weather to cooperate for this outing.”

“How true,” she said with a nod. “Otherwise, Christmas would’ve arrived before I purchased several gifts.”

When he’d considered who he wanted to buy gifts for, Lucy had been at the top of his list. Yet he had no idea what he might get her. And, he was willing to admit to himself, it was the perfect reason to spend more time with her.

“I’m wondering if I should apologize once again?” he asked, guilt filling him as he noted the way she avoided looking directly at him. She might’ve been the one to initiate the kiss, but he’d taken it further than she intended. Of that, he had no doubt.

She halted abruptly to look at him, the pink in her cheeks deepening. “Of course not. We’re both adults, capable of knowing our own minds.”

That was amusing, considering he didn’t feel as if he knew his mind at all. Not when he was around her.

“You intrigue me, Lucy. In many ways. I fear I allowed the moment to get away from me.”

She managed a more genuine smile. “As did I. We shall place the blame for the moment on the mistletoe. Perhaps it has more power than I gave it credit for.”

He chuckled, appreciating her humor. “Agreed. We’ll blame the mistletoe.” Her response