My Merry Marquess (Wallflower's Christmas Wish #3) - Annabelle Anders Page 0,27

mind.

He reached over and scooped his fingers into the pastry she’d cooked for him.

“What are you—?”

He spread the sweet filling along the inside of her thigh. Sweet heaven. All he needed now was to sip brandy from her lips.

She moaned when he lapped at the sticky pastry. Loving her excitement, he did the same with the delicate skin inside her other thigh. He loved her gasps of satisfaction even more than her laughter.

By the time he returned to her center, she was close to completion. He pinned her hips to the bed and buried his face between her legs.

Nicholas ushered Eve down the stairs, out the back door, and insisted on escorting her across the square. She was glad for his arm as her legs felt decidedly weak.

“I’m sticky,” she murmured into her coat, feeling incredibly naughty. She’d never be able to look at a pie again without remembering what he’d done.

“Apple pie may not have been my favorite dessert before, but it certainly is now.”

She glanced over and could barely make out his expression in the darkness. It was tender, teasing—affectionate.

She’d felt horrible for leaving him standing in front of the inn earlier that afternoon. This time, it had been she who had panicked.

She’d not corrected Noelle’s assumption that he was merely escorting her as a courtesy to his friend. As long as her sisters and her aunt didn’t know about him, it wasn’t quite real. And if it wasn’t real, it couldn’t hurt her. None of which made rational sense.

But she had hurt him.

Was it possible that he’d suffered as much as she had in the months they’d been apart?

After allowing Mr. Clark to rebandage the cut on her hand, she’d taken tea with her aunt and sisters but been unable to shake a strong regret.

Which then quickly transformed into an urgent need.

To apologize—to explain.

Had she intended to make love with him when she took over the pie? She’d certainly been willing when he’d carried her to his bed.

He’d asked her if she trusted him, and she’d struggled to give him an answer. Was that why he’d not made love to her, in truth? Oh, but how could she trust him when she had no idea when he was leaving? And why had she been willing to make love to him without any promises?

Because you never stopped loving him, her heart whispered.

Starlight sparkled on crystals of snow. “The sky is clear tonight,” she ventured. “Do you think the roads will be clear tomorrow?”

He pulled her close. “The condition of the roads won’t dictate the length of my stay in Maybridge Falls, Eve.” There was no hesitancy at all in his response.

“What will dictate it then?” They’d arrived at the front walk leading up to her aunt’s home and both of them stopped.

Nick raised her hands to his lips and pressed a kiss on the back of each. “You.”

Eve’s heart skipped a beat. “Why?”

“Because we deserve the chance that was stolen from us before.” His voice sounded gruff.

Eve nodded and then raised herself to her toes to press a soft kiss on his lips. Cool. Familiar. Wonderful.

“We do, don’t we?” But could she ever trust in happiness again? Was that even possible? “Will you join me and my sisters and my aunt for dinner tomorrow evening?”

Nicholas rubbed his thumb along her lower lip. “I’d be honored.”

She didn’t want to move. She didn’t want to break this spell.

An owl howled in the distance and she jumped.

“Goodnight, Nicholas.” She stepped backward.

“Goodnight, Eve.”

Chapter 8

“She was going to try to salvage some of the meat, but it looks as though she’s thrown out the entire bird. “If this goes on much longer, we’ll be feeding the entire feline population in Maybridge Falls.” Holly widened her arms dramatically.

“If we aren’t doing that already.” Eve followed her youngest sister into the kitchen, leaving the door to the back open to allow some of the leftover smoke to escape. Eve had truly hoped that Cook would serve up something edible that evening. Not that she was nervous about Nicholas’s visit. Why would she have cause to be nervous?

Before walking her home the night before, Nicholas had told her he would spend the early part of today going through the correspondence he’d neglected. Eve had encouraged him to do so. What other news had he missed? Of his family, of his estates? He’d agreed that it was high time he lived up to his responsibilities.

Eve wondered if that meant what she thought it meant. Was he adjusting

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