My Merry Marquess (Wallflower's Christmas Wish #3) - Annabelle Anders Page 0,13

eyes bright. The urge to take her into his arms nearly had him begging forgiveness, but he did not. He could not—would not—allow himself to go through that again.

He’d all but fallen apart when she’d betrayed him before. If not for the adrenaline from his anger, he doubted he could have remained upright when he boarded the ship for the channel crossing. And then once in Brussels, he’d drank to the extent that even in the mornings, he was never quite sober. He barely recalled the few women who had been fool enough to attempt to share his bed. It had been humiliating. He’d been so besotted, so bloody heartbroken from Eve’s treatment of him, that he’d been unable to assuage his desire with even the comeliest of lovelies.

Disgusted, he’d traveled on to Paris and begun an unnatural bout of self-imposed abstinence. Upon entering his state of self-denial, he’d couldn’t seem to break it.

If Dash and Jack had even an inkling as to the manner in which he’d lived the past nineteen months, they’d never let him hear the end of it. The Christmas house party had presented the perfect opportunity to break his atypical streak. He’d been ready to slake his lust mindlessly.

And now this.

The blizzard had obviously been sent from hell. Why else had it landed him in godforsaken Maybridge Falls?

Unless…

He raised his fingers to his upper lip and inhaled. “Just think of all the fun we could have, Eve, until the snow melts.”

She flinched, and her bottom lip trembled. She would run from him a fourth time. This ruse was his last hope for sanity.

And then she lifted her chin and glowered at him before flicking her gaze toward the window. Snowflakes swirled outside, occasionally striking the window soundlessly. “How long do you think that will take? Long enough for you to read through your correspondence?”

“God, I hope not,” he answered, taken aback by her question.

She met his gaze with an unreadable one and then rose to stand. Nick swallowed hard while she crossed the room, retrieved her stockings, and then returned to the table and chairs. She tucked a few long strands of hair behind one ear with shaking hands and then licked her lips.

Surely, she wasn’t going to take him up on his suggestion? She lifted one bare foot to the chair and after painstakingly gathering the garment into her fingertips, slid dainty toes inside. The garment unrolled slowly as she drew it over her ankles, calves, and past her knees to the lower half of her thighs.

He’d thrilled to see his hands on her pale skin only moments before. What was it about seeing Eve’s more delicate ones trailing up that same skin that aroused him even more? The urge to stroke his already engorged cock was nearly too much to resist.

“My garter, please? Will you hand it to me?” Her voice jolted him out of the dreamlike state. His throat too thick to speak, he retrieved the ribbon and placed it into her outstretched hand.

She slid her skirts even higher to secure the garter and then tortured him all over again with the second one. By the time she’d lowered herself to the chair to lace her slipper around her ankles, he could barely remember why she wasn’t in his arms and why he wasn’t on his knees begging for her forgiveness.

“Boots would have been more practical.” His voice came out sounding garbled as he attempted to restore his equilibrium.

She shrugged. “I was anxious to speak with you.”

Only after she’d taken up her coat did he move forward to assist her.

Why had she been anxious to speak with him before? Enough of his blood ought to have returned to his brain for him to make some sense of her words, and yet he felt as befuddled as ever.

“You agree then, that we ought to enjoy one another while I’m stranded in Maybridge Falls?” He’d have clarity on this one thing, if nothing else.

Moving past him, she dropped unexpectedly to her haunches and began rifling through his correspondence. When she rose and turned to face him again, she had picked out a handful of identical-looking envelopes. She chose one of them and held it up, just under his nose.

For the first time since she’d arrived, she stared at him candidly. “Start with this one first.”

He stared at the elegant handwriting on the front as she tossed the others onto the desk behind him but didn’t move until she started toward the door.

“I’ll walk you.”