A Midnight Kiss to Seal the Deal

by Sophie Pembroke

  * * *

  Theo surged forward at her words, sweeping her into his arms and kissing her the way he’d wanted to all night. She kissed him back, with all the passion she put into the things that mattered to her: history, proving people wrong, and kissing him.

  God, he loved a woman who had her priorities in order.

  ‘Upstairs,’ he murmured against her lips.

  He could hear Celeste’s father droning on in the other room, but there was no way his guests were going to put up with that for very long, and he wanted to be secluded away in her bedroom before any of them escaped out to the kitchen and found them half naked.

  Because he was going to have Celeste half naked—no, totally naked—very soon, wherever they happened to be at the time.

  ‘Yes,’ she gasped back. ‘Upstairs.’ She looked back through the door into the garden. He followed her gaze, and saw a figure approaching in the darkness. ‘And fast, before my brother gets here.’

  They ascended the narrow staircase together, still touching and kissing at every step, hiding their ebullient laughter as Damon stormed through the hallway below and straight out of the front door. And then they were at a dark wooden door, and it was opening, and all Theo could see was a bed and Celeste, and suddenly the laughter faded.

  ‘You’re sure about this?’ he asked softly, wanting her to know she could change her mind, at any point.

  But she nodded, firmly. ‘Very.’ She bit down on her lower lip for a moment, the telephone-box-red lipstick she’d been wearing almost all gone now, probably smeared across his face.

  He kicked the door shut behind him and swept her up into his arms.

  Theo wanted to take it slow, to make it worth the wait, to make it better than she could imagine. But as with all things, Celeste had her own ideas, too. Not that he was complaining about them.

  In no time, his jacket, shirt and tie had been stripped away, and her hands roamed across his chest, followed by her lips. Swallowing the lust that coursed through him at her touch, he pushed the straps of her dress down her arms, kissing every inch of creamy skin as it was revealed. Her shoulders, her collarbone, the curve of her breasts...

  She arched against him, pressing her softness up against all the parts of his body that were anything but soft right now, and Theo almost lost his mind.

  ‘On the bed,’ he said, his voice desperate and rasping, even to his own ears.

  ‘Yes,’ she replied. Then she grabbed his shoulders and, twisting them around, pushed him down onto the mattress so she landed on top of him.

  Theo gazed up at her. Her dark hair was loose around her bare shoulders, tousled and wild. Her eyes were huge in the moonlight, her creamy skin almost glowing as he ran his hands over it, from her shoulders, down her arms, skirting her bare breasts, to where her black dress was pooled around her full hips.

  She looked like an ancient goddess—Aphrodite or Venus—come to enchant him. Or a queen, perhaps. Anne Boleyn, seducing her Henry and changing history.

  All Theo knew, in that moment, was that whatever she asked for, he would give.

  Another time, another place, the thought would terrify him. But right now...

  ‘Are you going to have your wicked way with me?’ he asked, the familiar smirk on his lips giving him courage.

  This could be just like every other meaningless encounter in his life. Just because it was Celeste, didn’t mean it had to, well, mean anything.

  She grinned down at him, her hair brushing against his chest as she dipped her head to kiss him. ‘Definitely.’

  ‘Good.’ He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her flush against him as he kissed her again.

  He’d worry about everything else in the morning. Right now, he intended to enjoy every minute.

  * * *

  Celeste awoke on Christmas morning in her childhood bed, with Theo’s arm resting heavily on her waist, his breath almost a snore in her ear—and her bedroom door crashing into the wall behind it as Damon and Rachel burst in.

  ‘We’re getting married!’ they announced, in gleeful unison. Celeste blinked at them. Their eyes seemed feverishly bright with happiness or lack of sleep, their cheeks pink from the cold, and their hands clasped tight together.

  Grabbing the sheet to her chest, Celeste struggled to a sitting position, which was harder than it should be since apparently Theo slept like the dead.

  She should probably cut the guy some slack. She couldn’t exactly blame him for being tired after all their...exertions, the night before. Heat rose to her cheeks at the memory of him declaring it was his turn, after she’d, well, had her wicked way with him, as he put it.

  They’d stopped keeping track of whose turn it was, after that, but suffice to say the night had not been exactly restful. Thank goodness for solid Victorian walls, and the fact that her parents’ bedroom was on the next floor up.

  She forced her mind back to the present. The room was still mostly in darkness. If she was lucky, maybe they wouldn’t notice that she was naked. Or that she wasn’t alone in the bed. It could happen.

  Then their words caught up with her.

  ‘Wait. Married?’

  She’d hoped her brother and her best friend would be able to sort things out. But married? How had Damon gone from a confirmed commitment-phobe to a husband-to-be in just one night? That seemed a lot to chalk up to Christmas magic.

  But perhaps that same magic was responsible for what had happened with Theo, too. Because in the cold morning light it seemed more like an impossibility than ever. Apart from the bit where he was still snoring in her bed beside her.

  Damon shrugged. ‘We just figured...once you know you want to spend your life with another person, why wait?’

  ‘Plus, you had to come up with something really good to make up for being such an arsehole,’ Celeste said, reading between the lines.

  Rachel thrust her left hand towards her, showcasing a glittering diamond. ‘You get to be maid of honour, of course. And you can’t wear black.’

  ‘Black is very chic for bridesmaids these days,’ Celeste said automatically, with no idea at all if it was true.

  ‘I’m more worried about the “maid” part,’ Damon said, a small frown appearing between his eyebrows—yet still utterly failing to completely hide his happy glow—as he gazed past her to the lump under the sheets beside her.

  Celeste rolled her eyes. ‘Little brother, my sex life is none of your business.’

  Of course, Theo chose that moment to wake up, rolling over languidly onto his back before sitting up, his chest bare as he rested against the headboard.

  ‘Merry Christmas, everybody. What did I miss?’

  ‘Damon and Rachel are getting married, and you and I are having the most awkward morning after known to history.’

  ‘And you know history,’ Theo replied. ‘Congratulations, guys. Damon, I’d shake your hand, but I’m not entirely sure where my trousers are.’

  ‘I think they’re over by the window.’ Rachel squinted in the semi-darkness of the room. ‘I can see the belt buckle shining in the moonlight.’

  ‘How romantic,’ Damon said drily. ‘So, you’ve heard our news. Care to fill us in on yours?’

  ‘No news!’ Celeste said brightly. ‘Just, you know, carrying on the charade that Theo and I are madly in love and together. All for show.’

  ‘Except you’re both naked under there.’ Damon did not look entirely pleased at the idea. She supposed she didn’t blame him. She had made it very clear that there was nothing real between her and Theo, and the guy did have a bit of a reputation. Celeste frowned. Except so did Damon, and his relationship with Rachel had been equally iffy to start with. Her brother had literally no moral high ground to stand on.

  Plus, as she’d already pointed out, her sex life was none of his business.

  Rachel, thankfully, was slightly mo
re subtle than her new fiancé. ‘Anyway, we just wanted to share our news...’

  ‘You don’t know that we’re naked. We could have clothes on,’ Celeste said, because apparently she just didn’t know when to stop digging. Beside her, Theo was smirking. She could feel it.

  ‘I can see your underwear hanging from the wardrobe door handle,’ Damon replied.

  ‘And now we’d better go and tell the rest of our families,’ Rachel said, bundling Damon towards the door again. ‘Happy Christmas, you two! See you both later.’

  ‘Merry Christmas,’ Celeste called after them. ‘And, uh, congratulations!’

  The door crashed shut behind them, and then it was just her and Theo.

  Naked.

  In her bed.

  ‘So, that was an exhilarating way to start the day,’ Theo said. ‘What do you say we take another nap to get over it? Or something.’ His hand crept up her bare side at the ‘or something’, leaving her in no doubt what he was hoping that something might be.

  And she wanted that, too. She could feel her body already starting to respond to his touch, her nipples tightening under the thin sheet that covered them, the ache that pulsed through her. How could she want him this much when, to be fair, she’d already had quite a lot of him last night?

  Christmas Eve magic, that was what it had been. And, oh, it had been magical.

  But in the cold light of day, this desperate need to touch him left her with more questions than she liked.

  Hang on. Cold light of day. Cold, yes, but there still wasn’t much light pushing its way around the curtains.

  ‘What time is it?’ she asked, pushing his hand away.

  Theo grabbed his watch from the nightstand. ‘Urgh. Four-thirty. No wonder it still feels like the middle of the night. We should definitely get some more sleep.’

  Celeste wriggled back down under the covers. Maybe if it was still last night, she could enjoy this—enjoy him—a little longer.

  Because she knew this couldn’t, wouldn’t last—that had never been the plan. But maybe it didn’t have to be over just yet.

  She reached out and ran her hand up his side, just as he’d done to her, from thigh to chest, before bringing it back down his front instead. ‘Sure about the sleeping part?’ she asked.

  ‘Not in the slightest,’ Theo replied, and kissed her.

  CHAPTER TEN

  HE’D DEFINITELY HAD worse Christmas mornings, Theo decided, as he left the Hunter town house a little later that morning, whistling to himself in the cold, still dark air. Yes, he was knackered, and slightly hungover, and certain muscles ached in pleasurable ways after the kind of workout they’d only dreamed of for the last few years, but still. Definitely worse mornings.

  Celeste had tried to convince him to leave quietly, by the back door preferably, without being seen. He’d given her a look and reminded her that the whole point was that he should be seen. This was the perfect addition to the story they were weaving for the press—and it seemed important to remember that this morning. Otherwise, a guy might start to get ideas.

  Except there were no press waiting for him outside the town house as he left—although he did bump into Jacob Hunter on the stairs, which was more than a little awkward.

  His good mood lasted all through his walk home, while he showered and dressed and loaded the car—taking an extra coffee to keep himself awake on the drive—and right up until he pulled his car into the driveway of Sorrelton House.

  Christmas with the family. He’d wish he could have just stayed with Celeste for the day, except then he’d have been spending Christmas with her family, which, after last night, he wasn’t sure was demonstrably better.

  Except he’d have been with Celeste. Touching her. Kissing her. As if they really were a couple, and not just pretend.

  She’d been quick enough to denounce that anything had changed between them to her brother, but it had changed, hadn’t it? Surely it had to, after a night like that?

  The only question was, what had it changed into? He’d have to wait until he was back in London, back with Celeste, to answer that one.

  He killed the engine, but stayed sitting in the car on the driveway for a moment, staring up at Sorrelton House. He wished Celeste could be with him again this time. For all his duty visits to his parents drained him, it had somehow seemed less awful when she was beside him. Not that he imagined she’d be volunteering for another visit any time soon. Just as he wouldn’t be attending one of her father’s lectures.

  Different worlds.

  But in some ways they intersected. She didn’t laugh at his studies. He didn’t tell her she should stick to academia, not TV. She made him think that maybe, just maybe, there really was something more to him than his name and his face, after all. And he hoped he’d shown her last night that he knew she was a hell of a lot more than just a brain and the ability to recite facts.

  Although, to be honest, he could sit and listen to her recite facts all day. Because they weren’t just facts, just history, when Celeste said them. They were stories, a new way of looking at the world. The way she saw the world. And he was a little bit worried that he’d never get enough of that.

  Theo sighed, and hoped that her confidence in him might help him make it through Christmas Day with his parents, without him starting to believe everything they said about him again.

  He didn’t notice the unfamiliar car on the driveway until he’d already dragged his overnight bag and box of gifts up the front step to the main door. He frowned at the vehicle as he waited for the door to be answered; Christmas was, of course, a formal occasion, and he knew he wouldn’t be forgiven for using the side entrance on such a day.

  Who could possibly be here?

  Other than his aunt Gladys, who always joined them for high days and holidays, and perhaps the widowed vicar from the church at the edge of the estate, he couldn’t imagine anyone choosing to spend Christmas Day at Sorrelton House.

  He got his answer quickly enough, however, as the door was yanked open, not by Jenkins, but by a vaguely familiar blonde in a green and red tartan dress. She was a good few years younger than him, as best he could guess, and Theo had the horrible feeling that he really should be able to place her. Especially if she was spending Christmas with his family.

  He forced himself to smile instead of frown as he tried to buy time while he figured it out.

  ‘Merry Christmas!’ he said cheerfully. ‘How are things going here this festive morning?’

  The blonde smiled wanly at him. ‘Happy Christmas, Theo. It’s lovely to see you again.’

  She pressed a dry kiss to his cheek, then moved aside to let him enter.

  ‘Ah, the prodigal son returns, eh?’

  That voice, Theo recognised. And the portly figure it belonged to, waddling into the hallway. Hugo Howard, his father’s long-term friend and sometime business partner. Which meant the blonde had to be his daughter, Emmaline. Theo didn’t think he’d seen her since she was about twelve, so he didn’t feel quite so bad about not recognising her.

  The family tableau was completed as Hugo’s wife, Anna, a tall, thin woman who towered over her husband and glared at everything because she refused to wear her glasses and blamed poor inanimate objects for her not being able to see them, joined them.

  ‘Hugo, Anna. Merry Christmas,’ Theo repeated. ‘Not that it’s not lovely to see you all, but are my parents here too?’

  Hugo laughed uproariously. ‘You always were the funny one, Theo. Like your dad says, at least you found a way to make people laughing at you a good thing. They’re through in the green sitting room. Come on, now.’

  Theo shook off the only vaguely veiled insult without comment. But what did it say about his presence here that the unexpected Christmas guests were more likely to greet him at the door than his own parents?

  ‘It’s a good job I got to know you
first, though. Because otherwise I might believe some of the things your parents said about you.’

  Celeste’s words, after their last visit. She knew him even better now, of course. But even then, even after only a few fake dates and an acquaintance of less than three weeks, she’d seen him more clearly than his own parents had. She’d understood him, in a way he knew now his own family never would. She made him see himself through her eyes—not the TV-viewing public’s, or his father’s critical gaze. But Celeste’s clear, unwavering, uncompromisingly honest view.

  And he saw her, too. She was becoming all he ever wanted to see.

  He dumped his overnight bag at the foot of the grand staircase and fell into step beside Emmaline as they all headed for the sitting room.

  ‘This is a surprise,’ he said amiably. ‘Is your joining us today a last-minute thing, or did my parents just forget to tell me again?’

  ‘Fairly last minute, I think,’ Emmaline said, with a smile that barely reached her lips, let alone her eyes. ‘I think your father called mine last Sunday and asked us to join him. We were supposed to be going to my brother in Hampshire, but...’ Shrugging, she trailed off.

  Last Sunday. After he’d visited for lunch with Celeste, then. Suddenly, Theo was very suspicious about the presence of his unexpected guests.

  ‘Didn’t my mother tell me you were recently engaged?’ He glanced down at her ring finger, and found it bare. Ah.

  ‘It got called off.’ No smile at all this time, understandably, just a tight, pinched look.

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘No need to be sorry!’ Hugo said, from in front of them. ‘All for the best, I say. Plenty more fish in the sea, after all, right, Emmie?’ He shot his daughter a significant look, then moved his gaze onto Theo.

  Right. Of course.

  The sequence of events was falling into place perfectly in his head now. He’d brought Celeste to lunch; his parents had been horrified. So, of course, they had to find someone more ‘suitable’ for him. And who could possibly be more suitable than the recently dumped daughter of his father’s richer-than-sin best friend? The Howards had no title, or pretensions to one, but they had a lot of money. While Theo and his family had the cache of being on the fringe of the aristocracy.