She moved beneath him, blood pounding, heartbeat racing, and it was as intoxicating as it had been the first time.
Afterward she lay in his arms, and if she’d been given a choice she would have stayed there forever. “I can’t believe this is happening. Last night I thought—”
“Yes. Last night. I lay awake waiting for you.” He turned his head. “Where were you?”
“Me? I was here. Awake. Hoping you’d knock on my door.”
“I almost did, but then I reasoned my way out of it. I thought you might have regrets. I kept wondering if I’d taken advantage of an emotionally unstable woman.”
“Excuse me?” She lifted herself on her elbow. “Are you calling me emotionally unstable?”
“No need to be defensive or embarrassed. My family makes me emotionally unstable, too.”
She lay back and sighed. “You’re right. I was emotionally unstable. This has been a weird Christmas. But that wasn’t why I slept with you.”
“Good. But in that case why didn’t you come and tap on my door?”
Why hadn’t she? “Firstly because I’d managed to convince myself that you’d had pity sex—”
“Pity sex?”
“Yes. You felt sorry for me and were trying to make me feel better.”
“I’m putting my back into this hospitality thing, but even I wouldn’t go that far. There was no pity involved.” He stroked his finger along her cheekbone, as if memorizing her face. “You said ‘firstly.’ What was the second thing?”
“I don’t know where your room is.”
He paused. “You don’t?”
“No. You’ve never shown me the private side of the house. If I’d plucked up courage to sneak through the lodge in my robe—which I probably wouldn’t have done—then I wouldn’t have known which door to knock on. I might have ended up walking in on your mom.”
He lay back and pulled her closer. “I’m going to put a note on my door. Just in case.”
“I wish we could stay like this.” She felt like a child, wanting Christmas to last forever except in this case it wasn’t Christmas she wanted. “I wish we could freeze time.”
“But then we’d miss all the moments in the future that are going to be even better than this one.”
“You think we have a future?” The words were followed by embarrassment. “Ignore me. You don’t have to answer that.”
“Why wouldn’t I answer it?” He ran his fingers lightly down her arm. “I suppose the answer to whether or not we have a future depends on us. Do you want one?”
“The logical side of me says it isn’t practical.”
“Ah. Outer Samantha. I like her, but right now I’m talking to inner Samantha. What does she say?”
“She says go for it. Do whatever it takes.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“I don’t usually listen to her. My logical side has the loudest voice—” She kissed his shoulder. “I’m scared.”
“Me, too. But that’s a good sign.”
“It is?” She liked the way his fingers felt on her skin. Gentle, but possessive. In a good way. A very good way. She’d never been able to sit still long enough to contemplate a massage, but she would have sat for a week while he touched her like this.
“Yes, because it shows we do want this. We both care. We’re emotionally engaged.”
“Yes.” She’d never been scared with Kyle. Never once been nervous that it might not work out. “I’m glad you’re not doing this out of pity.”
“I may occasionally break my glasses and lose my wallet, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know what I want.”
“You live in Scotland and I live in Boston.”
“Meaning?”
“I’m giving you reasons why this probably won’t work.”
“How about giving me reasons why it will work? Like the fact that we both want it to and are willing to make it work. I can fly to Boston. I’m willing to clear space on my desk for you to work when you come and spend time here. I’ll even wash up a few mugs.”
It wasn’t logical. It wasn’t sensible. But it sounded so good. She snuggled closer. “You’d make space for me in your office?”
“As long as you promise not to touch anything.”
“Can I touch you?”
“That’s allowed.” He rolled her under him, kissing her again, and it was another hour before they finally finished the champagne.
“This might be the best Christmas ever.” She took another mouthful and handed it to him.
“It’s the best so far. There are going to be plenty more. Champagne from the bottle on Christmas Eve can be our first tradition.”
The future was theirs. Whatever they chose to do with it. At