A Hamilton Family Christmas - Donna Kauffman Page 0,14

and just looking in.

And, something about the idea of being her taboo dessert turned him on. A little. He looked back toward the banked fire and poked at the glowing embers. Okay, maybe more than a little. But that was strictly the atmosphere talking. Storm raging outside, power out, a roaring fire. He found himself glancing at her again. A woman who wouldn’t have likely caught his eye in a crowd, but was presently making his fingers itch to take all that long, curly hair and spread it out to see what it looked like by firelight.

He held her gaze a moment too long, that moment where she realized they were staring, at each other, and saying nothing. His body reacted, and he wondered what the state of her body was at that moment, and spent another too-long moment wondering if he should push it. Just to see. Because…why not?

Which had him jerking his gaze immediately back to the fire, and, after arranging another log on top of the now piping flames, pushing himself to a stand. He was here on what was, hopefully, going to be the most important night of his life. Why in the hell he was letting her distract him like that, or at all, really, he had no idea.

He scooped up the flashlight. “You’ll be okay here for a while?”

She seemed to have snapped out of that momentary reverie as well, as she was presently making quite the production out of rummaging through her satchel. “Yes, of course.” She glanced up, and it appeared ever-so-casual, except he was far too aware of her every move at this point. Therefore, he didn’t miss the quick, hungry once-over she gave him, standing there in front of the fire, before going back to searching for whatever the hell was so important in her bag. “What are you going to do?”

“Hunt for candles,” he said. Amongst other things. He willed his body to subside, and prayed it wasn’t obvious in the shadows cast by the fire. But honestly, did she have any idea what that kind of swallow-you-whole look did to a man?

A quick glance showed the dogs had already collapsed on the rugs lining the floor, quite content to doze by the fire. He walked over to the door, stepping over a prostrate Jack on his way. The basset thumped his tail a few times, but didn’t bother to pull himself out of his hearth-induced stupor. Trevor smiled as he paused in the doorway and looked back at Emma. It was quite the picturesque winter scene. Fire roaring, dogs sprawled, windowpanes frosted over. Emma curled up on the couch, still rummaging. But he could just as easily picture her with a throw over her lap and a book spread across her knees. He wondered if she wore glasses to read. She’d look all studious, he thought, and sexy as all hell. He shifted in the doorway to hide the reaction that little visual had caused. Really, he had to get out of here, for his own good. And hers.

If things went as he suspected, there would be quite the uproar when word got out. Lionel wouldn’t be pleased. And he didn’t want Emma getting caught up in fallout not of her own making. No, he’d have to find a way to make sure she took no blame in what he was about to do. Which meant he couldn’t even think about entangling himself with her. Even for one, stormswept winter night. “Do you—” He had to pause to clear his throat and the thickness from his voice. She really knew how to…impact a guy. “Do you need anything else at the moment?”

“No, I’m good.” She pushed her hair back from her face with one hand as she kept digging with the other. “How long will you be gone?”

It rather stunned him, the strength of will it took to keep his hands to himself in that moment and not go straight to her and drag her down on the couch. Nose pressed to the window, indeed. If only she knew how badly he wanted her to come into his candy shop. That hair of hers was like a living, breathing thing. And he wanted his hands all tangled up in it. He shoved one hand in his pocket, out of apparently irreversible necessity. The other merely gripped the flashlight a little more tightly. “I’m not sure,” he said.

“We have the fire, and plenty of wood. I don’t mind keeping