by Gayle Eden
Rena did ask a favor of Bram, she had gotten him before to get a pair of gloves and a scarf for Jerome, but she wanted something special to give Lucas Bennington, and she needed her brother’s help getting it. She was curious as to a certain smile Bram wore whenever he looked at her, but her thoughts were consumed by the man of her dreams.
So until that Christmas when she’d see him once more, Rena clung to the memories of their dance and kiss, and she kept her composure through the social dos all the while her mind was on nothing but seeing him again.
Finally, it was Christmas morning. After she bathed Rena hummed and peeked out the window watching the carolers coming and going, seeing the pristine white snow in drifts around lampposts and aside doorways. She sighed and hurried to change into her white blouse and green skirt, leaving her hair down but tied at the nape in a simple ribbon.
The house was so quiet as she descended the stairs, her plain slippers almost soundless on the treads. However, it was warm and before leaving for church the cook had made coffee and buns, left plenty on the table and in warmers so that she was eating when Bram came down relaxed in his ruffled white shirt, collarless and snug black trousers and boots.
Bells were ringing and happy noise filtered through the frosty windows.
“What time do you expect Jerome?”
“Sometime afternoon.” He snorted on a laugh. “I doubt he has gotten up before then in ages.”
As he was drinking his coffee there was the clank of the ornate doorknocker. She hurried up to answer it, pulling open the heavy door and smelling the scent of snow and hearing laughter from distant children playing.
Lucas stood there, his arms holding two gifts but behind him a rather dignified looking butler grinned at her under bushy brows, his head wrapped in a red scarf.
“My lord. Come in.” She stepped back smiling then watched the butler step in and place a gold stand with a hook at the end of the foyer. He hung a covered cage on the hook, and then as she closed the door he whipped off the fringed cover to reveal two exotic birds perched on swings.
“Oh, Lucas.” She hurried to the cage admiring the beautiful birds and then looking at him. “They are mine?”
“Yes.” He smiled, and then spoke to his butler, thanking him and wishing him a Merry Christmas.
“I thank you too,” She called out. “And Merry Christmas, sir.”
The elder man looked from her to his master and grinned. “The same, Miss.”
“Here, let me take those.” She got the presents from Lucas. “Just hang your coat there, and the hat. Bram is just there, in the small dining room. I’ll put these under the tree.”
While she hurried off he removed his coat and hat, and she made another trip, managing to get her lovely birds into the back of the sitting room where they would be warm, but could see the out of doors through the window. She wanted to linger and admire the gilt cage and elaborate perches, but she wanted to see Lucas more.
When she entered the dining room again, Verena stopped dead as he stood by the window laughing and talking with Bram. He had a coffee in his hand and they were apparently watching something amusing at the neighbors or on the street.
Placing a hand to her tense stomach, she eyed from the top his raven hair, left down and silky. The shirt he wore stretched across his broad shoulders and molded his frame in a blackish purple color, and was tucked into snug black trousers.
His boots were knee high with a band of light leather at the top. But oh, his height and build, even beside someone as handsome as Bram, sent butterflies dancing through her stomach.
She cut into their laughing conversation saying cheerfully, “If you two are through spying on the neighbors, why don’t we adjourn to the sitting room, where it is warmer.”
Bram turned and headed that way. His lordship came around the table slower, looking her over, lingering on her hair before meeting her gaze and then offering her his arm.
As they entered the room with the tree and a brightly lit fireplace he murmured, “You look very beautiful, very fresh and lovely this Christmas morning.”
She thanked him. “I return the compliment. I’ve nothing against formal clothing, but you look quite handsome this morning too.”
He released her arm as they entered and looked from the birds, around the room, which was furnished in warm greens and wine hues, a few splashes of gold, but comfortable with the overstuffed chaises and chairs made for a man’s frame. The tree was in the corner by the fireplace, candles lined the mantle amid ribbon and holly, and there were two loveseats angled toward the fire.
Bram had taken his seat at the left, on a bench where he played notes on a harpsichord. He grimaced and looked at them, “I’m a bit rusty.”
“Nonsense,” Rena encouraged, and went over to shuffle through the music. “Here, start here. You always play this every Christmas.”
He played, looking from the sheet to his hands, and Rena turned to find Lucas standing by the fire relaxed and watching them with a smile. She grinned and turned back to Bram, kissing him on the temple before joining his lordship.
“He plays well and enjoys it. ’Tis simply that here in town, what with being busy raking and all.”
Lucas laughed and took a sip of coffee before saying, “Yes. Jerome has talents too. He pretends to be feckless and lazy.” His gaze moved over her. “We missed each other for a few days.”
“Yes. I saw you but seemed to be going in the opposite direction.”
His violet eyes held her gaze for several moments while Bram’s beautiful music drifted through the room.
Verena returned that look and then held it for a string of heartbeats, feeling the attraction and knowing he was thinking of their last encounter.
“What made you think of pet for me?” She asked finally.
“I don’t know actually,” he said abashed. “I had seen those birds weeks ago, they seemed vibrant, and cheerful…I don’t know.”
“They’re perfect.”
He glanced over at the cage. “There is another gift in there.”
“What? Where?” She started toward the stand.
“I’ll show you later.” He grasped her hand.
For a moment she looked down at their clasped hands and then back up at him. “Very well, but you have my curiosity piqued.”
This time she did not mistake the wink as he released her hand then waved her to a seat, setting down beside her, close enough until their shoulders touched while they enjoyed Bram’s music.
The rather loud door banging sometime later announced Jerome’s arrival. They all laughed as he came in on a gust of snow, having his arms full of gifts, hatless, so that his sable hair was wet—and once he shed his coat, revealed himself informally dressed in a pair of black snug trousers and fisherman’s sweater.
He deposited the gifts by the tree and found the brandy, poured himself a glass, saying after he’d shook hands and kissed Rena’s cheek, “Merry Christmas all. You can thank Lucas here for your gifts, since he lost enough to me earlier in the week to provide nice ones.” Amid their laughter, he said to the earl. “All save your own, which I promise you, I paid for out of my own pocket.”
Lucas returned, “Jerome, I’m touched.”
After bowing, the lanky rake went to join Bram at the harpsichord and set to singing rather joyfully, and quite beautifully.
Shaking her head Rena murmured to Lucas. “He is a mess, but quite an amusing one.”
“Yes.”
After two hours of that, they played cards, Rena partnering her brother and observing Lucas’s impressive skill. There was more teasing and laughter from the men, because she had to concentrate to play her hand, considering she was distracted by Lucas sitting across from her.
There were times when his gaze flickered to meet hers, and times she played a bad hand that he winked her when her brother pretended to strangle her for getting them trounced.
Nevertheless, it was spirited and fun. When it was over, she excused herself to la
y out dinner, leaving them to cigars and male talk, and to put things back in order.
Bram joined her in the kitchens and they warmed the food and prepared their dishes, carrying it to the informal table and lighting the long silver tapers.
“Not bad.” She unpinned the apron and put her arm around him.
“A feast to be sure.” He kissed her cheek. “I’ll get the guests.”
She stood by her chair as the men entered, watching her brother seat himself at the head. Jerome sat at his right, and she gestured for Lucas to pick his own seating, which he did, across from her.
The wine pouring, the plate filling, it took place amid talk and general gossip, some foolishness and discussion of politics by the men, a few comments by herself, that got nods from Lucas.
It grew dark outside while they ate and relaxed, and afterward Lucas offered to help her clear the table while Bram and Jerome headed for the study and billiard table.
The kitchens were brick floored, wide and rather warm from the large cooking hearth and oven. While he stacked the plates where she directed, Rena did a bit of cleaning up.
Finally she turned from the butcher table to find him with his hips leaned against the other bench. When he simply held out his hand, she went to him and took it.
The embrace that followed was both ardent and warm, for he merely held her against him a moment, his hand at the back of her head, his arms keeping her snug in his hold. Yet his heart was thudding intense and the currents between them crackled and sparked.
When his arms relaxed, she leaned back to look at him, her hands at his spine. “Are you enjoying this Christmas?”
“Yes.” He reached and smoothed back a strand of her hair, but his violet gaze stayed on hers. “I am. But more because I am near you.”
“Did you mean what you said, that you wanted me for Christmas?”
“Yes, and I—”
She cut him off, “Bram and Jerome are going off after we open gifts. I want you to stay behind.”
“Rena.” He swallowed thickly and cupped her face. “It has all been very fast, very sudden for you. I want you to know however, that it does not feel that way for me. I want you, and I say that meaning so much more than the physical.”
Her body tingled, her head felt light as a feather, although she sensed he was saying everything with a cautious restraint. “I want you that way, too. Lucas. I do not need to think beyond this day, this chance, and this feeling. I don’t even need promises and time. I am old enough and mature enough, to know what it is I am offering, and what I will be getting. I want you, too.”
His hand eased to the back of her head and his mouth met hers in a deeply passionate kiss. Her fingers slid, tangled in his hair. She went on her tiptoes, leaning into him, kissing him back with emotion flooding her senses. Her heart filling with every second their lips and tongue mated, stroked, and tasted the desire that flamed between them.
Finally, he pulled back, husking while catching his breath, “Until later then.” Then he laughed and put her from him, holding her shoulders and her gaze. “Moments will now seem like hours.”
She nodded. Then they headed out of the room and back to the sitting room.
During the gift opening and laughter, there was a moment when Bram put on the bright coat she had given him, and pranced about the room.
She took note that Lucas had gotten Bram a very expensive chess set and Jerome a book, which also belied the rake’s image, for it was some heavy tome on history, which made him drop his façade while he stroked it as if he could not wait to delve between the pages.
He had gotten Bram a small painting that her brother had apparently admired, and Lucas a writing set, which he presented with the admonishment that the earl spent too much on business and not enough on play.
Amid her brother and Jerome laughing and joking, Verena handed Lucas her gift for him, watching his tawny fingers unwrap it, and then looking at his face, watching his expression.
He opened the rosewood box and extracted the figurines of a dancing couple, glancing at her with a warm grin. “Thank you.”
She nodded. “You’re welcome.”
He admired the couple, his thumb going over the woman’s red hair and then placed it in the box. He took her hand and stood, bringing her with him to the ornate stand and cage.
Verena was aware that Bram and Jerome had stopped talking and were watching them.
Lucas said, “It is under the bottom.”
Casting him a glance she grinned and reached under the cage, finding a small silk bag tied there. She undid it and tilted the sack, letting the ring slide into her palm. Her eyes stung and watered, her heart shook. Blinking she tried to focus on the sparkle of diamonds and could not.
Lucas had pity on her as tears rolled down her cheeks. He took the ring from her palm, then gently lifted her hand and slid it on her finger, kissing it before releasing it again.
Swallowing a lump in her throat, she wiped at her cheeks and glanced over at her grinning brother, scarcely noticing that Jerome was smiling as well. “Did you know?”
“Of course I did.” He laughed and confessed. “He asked for your hand, m’dear.”
She laughed and then disgraced herself by falling against Lucas’s chest and weeping quite loudly. She did not even notice when Jerome and Bram looked at each other and then slipped out. She did not even notice when Lucas picked her up and carried her to the sofa, and sat with her on his lap.
He undid the ribbon and stroked her hair. Then as the tears settled to shudders, he gave her his hanky and watched her dry her eyes and gather herself.
Rena leaned back and groused, “I must look horrible.”
“You look beautiful.” He smiled and touched her cheek. “Now, did you really think that I would make love to you without a promise?”
“I didn’t care.” She smiled back and bit her lip. “But… are you sure, about the…forever thing.”
“I’m sure.” He took her hand and held it against his chest. “You’ll marry me, won’t you?”
“Yes.” She swallowed and loosed her hand to touch his face. “You’ll make love to me, won’t you?”
“Dear girl,” he leaned and murmured against her mouth. “I will make love to you so often, so thoroughly, so well, that we’ll be planning the wedding from the bed.”
She laughed against his mouth. “Scandalous, Lucas. Should we not just get a special license and avoid shocking the ton.”
He kissed her and then pulled back. “We could do that.” His thumb caressed her lip. “I could love you, Rena. Do you believe that?”
“Yes.” She now recognized those mists in his eyes, that deep mystery there. He was a man who would love deeply and forever. “I could love you. I will, you know. I have wanted you from the moment I came to London. From the time…when I was sixteen.”
He groaned and leaned his head back, closing his eyes a moment. “I wish I had known that. I have wanted you, for many years…many years.”
He lowered his head and they were kissing, holding tightly to each other, and when the kiss broke, she stood and blew out the tapers. Taking his hand and leading him out, up the stairs, and to her rooms.
The chamber was done in subtle gold and white, a fire burned in the sitting room fireplace, and wafted heat to the canopy bed draped in ivory and gold covers.
As he stood watching her disrobe, witnessing that rich wine hair slide around her shoulders, Lucas felt as if he had stepped into a long held dream. When she stood there, unclothed and beautiful, her ivory skin like creamy silk, he was amazed, captivated by her unashamed stance, the shimmer of sensuality in her eyes.
His hands came out to softly cover each pink-tipped breast, and then he kissed her, open and hungry, yet erotic and deep, a kiss that had her arms going round him and her body trembling against his. His hands moved then, over her back and hips, gliding warm down her shoulders and up to the sides of her neck.
He picked her up and lay her on the bed, then removed his bo
ots, unbuttoned his shirt, and uncovered a body that he saw pleased her because she whispered, “Oh, Lucas,” and reached for him.
Swarthy male flesh, muscle and sinew met the silken smoothness of her feminine body. He kissed her, silky ones, over her face and near her ear, down her throat. He felt her touching him, stroking, molding, and shaping him with her hands while her sighs and whispers floated around the room.
When he closed his mouth over her nipple, he felt her arch and grasp his hair, heard her say his name over and over again.
He gave both breasts all the attention he had dreamed of, heady himself with the feel and taste of her, completely wrapped in the erotic moments because she was sensual and sexual. No matter how limited her knowledge, it did not affect the heat of her responses, the whispers and sweet moans and the stroke of her hands on him.
He moved down her body, touching and kissing, laving and tasting until he had covered every inch. She was heavy eyed and panting.
Lucas slid his hands up her legs, inching her thighs apart and looking from those burgundy curls, the damp secrets of her sex, to her face, to gage her acceptance.
She completely trusted him, he realized as his fingers sifted through her curls, found the heat and moistness, and eased inside slowly. He touched her that way until she was arching and moving against it, then he replaced his fingers with his mouth and groaned himself as she gasped and began to murmur how good it felt.
When her climax came, she was just as free and honest, so much so that afterward when he moved up and settled between her quivering thighs, Lucas husked, “Rena, I have never seen anyone as fiery, as beautiful as you.”
Her lashes lifted, her hands sliding down his taut sides. “You make me feel as if my very bones were melting.”
The crown of his sex nudged the wet entry. His face was a study of restraint and hunger at war. “This is not going to be as easy, nor as painless for you as it is me. I would have it otherwise, but…”