12 Naughty Days of Christmas 2018

by Isabella Kole

  “Father, I have a headache,” she announced, standing up so quickly, she had to grip the arm of the sofa until the dizziness passed. “I need to rest.”

  The viscount face fell. “Oh, my dear, I pray you are not too ill for Christmas turkey. Cook says it’s a twenty-two pounder, with sage and onion stuffing. Your favorite.”

  Cassandra felt wretched. On the one hand she did not want to disappoint her father, on the other, she was extremely annoyed.

  “I know, Father, but—”

  Sir Rupert coughed. “Horatio, it’s understandable that Lady Cassandra would find this situation overwhelming. Perhaps if I speak to her alone, she may recover sufficiently to attend Christmas dinner.”

  Relief washed her father’s features. “A most sensible suggestion, Rupert. You both need time to get acquainted. Come, Lord Leaping, we shall depart to the drawing room for mead.”

  The earl bowed to Cassandra, his gaze wicked. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance. If I startled you earlier, it was merely a joke between Rupert and myself. I am jealous not to have made your acquaintance before your fiancé.”

  Cassandra had to press her lips together to curb her tongue. She could not snap at the man in front of her father. Apart from anything else, Lord Leaping was an earl, her father merely a viscount.

  Left alone with Sir Rupert, she sat back down. Everything she wanted to say to him involved words unbecoming to an upper class woman so she waited for him to speak first.

  “I see the cat has your tongue, Cassandra.”

  Her silence continued.

  “Come, come, my dear. There must be words you wish to express.”

  “Only that I hate you, sir.”

  He sat beside her, looked at her with a quiet smile. “That is not true, is it? In fact, what you feel is the very opposite.”

  “I don’t know what you mean,” she said, adopting her snootiest tone. “You tricked me.”

  He enclosed her hand in his. “You deceived me or that is what you intended. I told you I was not one of your callow suitors.”

  “Why did you do it?” she asked grumpily, wanting to pull her hand from under his but relishing the warmth of his touch. “You said you were Lord Leaping.”

  “I didn’t say I was Lord Leaping. You assumed it.”

  Cassandra wracked her brain, trying to remember if he had actually said who he was. “You could have corrected me,” she sniffed peevishly. “Why didn’t you?”

  Rupert stood, placed a log on the fire before turning to look down at her. Cassandra could not miss the sight of his fingers tapping against his thigh as though they held an invisible crop.

  “Put simply, I wanted to try you out, madam. I do not want a wife who lies under me, waiting to be impregnated for the sake of the lineage. Nor do I intend to take whores or mistresses to satisfy my tastes. I now know you fit my requirements. You are obstinate, prone to selfishness, even wrongheaded most of the time, but you are young and can be taught. And further to that, I wanted to teach you a lesson not to play with fire.”

  Cassandra opened her mouth to protest, closed it again when his eyes sparked a warning that she knew not to challenge.

  “The thing is,” he continued, his fingers still tapping, “During my last trip to England, your father and I discussed you at length. I learned everything there is to know about your habits – from when you were twelve and defied your father by riding a horse too big for you, right through to your arguments with houseguests over politics.”

  “Then why me?” she asked, suddenly curious. “If I am so difficult, what could you want with me?”

  His voice softened, his eyes holding a warmth she had not seen in him before. “My dearest, I chose you for your mind, your passion, your spirit. I want you, need you, must have you. I confess I did not expect to feel such an emotion within two days of our meeting, but you have captured my heart.”

  “Rupert,” she whispered, her heart beating so fast she could barely find breath. “I-I…”

  His hands took hers, brought her to her feet. Lifting her chin, he set a firm gaze to hers. “I love you and I want you as free and wild as you are now. But there are certain things I expect. The first you already know. I demand obedience in the bedroom in all aspects of our play. Secondly, there is the matter of your infidelities, which I will not tolerate in any shape or form. You will not take lovers or cavort with stable hands for if you do, your bottom will suffer more than you’ve ever known. Are we clear?”

  “Quite clear,” Cassandra said with a shiver.

  “I say this to you because it is my duty to ensure both your happiness and your good name, although the horse might have left the stable on the latter.”

  “Sir, I object,” Cassandra said archly. “There were no more than two. Drum and that other man, whoever he was. I think his first name started with an ‘m’ or was it ‘n’?”

  His gaze held firm, although she saw a twitch of a smile. “This is not a joking matter. You intended to lie with Lord Leaping in preparation for your wedding night. Good God, what were you thinking of?”

  Now that she thought about it, it was a silly idea. “I don’t know that I thought anything,” she admitted, “but it turned out all right in the end.”

  “At least it wasn’t that clot, Crawsmith.”

  “Not him!” Cassandra snorted, then frowned in puzzlement. “How do you know about the captain?”

  “I saw you dancing with him, saw you leave the ballroom.”

  “You followed me?”

  “Naturally.”

  He might be her loving fiancé but she did not appreciate being secretly shadowed. “You are not a gentleman to follow me,” she accused him. “Then take advantage of me in the guest room.”

  “Be thankful, Cassandra, that it was me who secured you for the night and not Lord Leaping. He is the biggest braggart in the entire empire. And while I was furious at missing out on your maidenhood, you have more than met my needs. Besides, a filly already broken can withstand a harder ride.” He wrapped her hair around his fingers, drew her closer for a kiss. “You will always be a handful to manage, but I will have you no other way.”

  She gazed up at him adoringly. “I love you, Rupert.”

  It felt scary to commit her heart to this man whom she barely knew. Yet it felt right, especially with his riding crop.

  Rupert stood back to bow. “Then it is right that I ask you formally, Lady Cassandra Worthingstone. Will you consent to be my wife?”

  Tears of happiness formed in her eyes. “Yes, Sir Rupert Swan, I will be your wife.”

  He kissed her. A gentle meeting of lips, but with the familiar fire. They would probably spend a lifetime matching wits, but it would not extend to their bedroom. There, he would have total submission from her. The thought excited her into pressing herself into his strong body.

  Rupert’s hand went to the back of her skirts, drew her flush to his hips. “We will marry in the new year,” he said huskily. “Swan Manor is being readied for your occupation, but it needs a woman’s touch. There is much for you to do.”

  Cassandra wriggled further into his hold. “Yes, Rupert.”

  “I have been asked to stand as the member for West Sussex in the next election. I want you at my side.”

  “I have certain views, my love, that may help you in your campaign.”

  He laughed. “I will always listen to your views, my dear, but I may not accept them.” His fingers played over her skirt. “Has your ankle recovered?”

  “It has.”

  He squeezed, eliciting a gasp from her. “I take it your other area hasn’t?”

  “It is still sore from your hand.”

  His eyes held delightful promise. “I swear not to discipline you hard tonight. Tonight, we will spend most of our time in conversation.”

  She slipped her arms around his neck, held him close. “Conversation can be an awful bore, don’t you think?”

  “Woman, you are a glutton for punishment.”

  �
�Gluttony is a sin, is it not? I shall need to be admonished.”

  His soft laugh came with another squeeze. “We will see.” He retrieved a velvet box from his pocket, placed its contents on her wedding finger.

  “With all my love.”

  Cassandra was sure her eyes were as bright as the diamonds on her finger. “It’s beautiful, Rupert.”

  “There is something else you must have.”

  “More gold rings?”

  “Your gold heart.”

  She squealed her joy. “Oh, you found it! Can I wear it now?”

  He smiled darkly. “You will need to earn its return later this evening.”

  Oh, the thought. “As you wish.” She reached up to kiss him just as her father opened the door. “Ho-ho-ho, come quickly young lovers,” he boomed, rubbing his hands together in glee. “The turkey is on the table. It’s a full twenty-four pounder and according to Mrs. Dove, the best in years. Lord Leaping has already bagged the giblets.”

  “Coming, Father.”

  Cassandra straightened her skirt, tucked her hand through Sir Rupert’s arm and walked obediently beside him to the dining room. She had found her knight after all.

  The End.

  Susann Oriel

  It’s all about the story. Stories of sizzling romance, intrigue, mystery and sometimes murder. Stories with hot heroes and cool-headed heroines.

  Susann Oriel loves to write erotic mysteries with intricate plots that constantly surprise. Her stories can be dark, her characters not necessarily of this world, and her settings anywhere from New York to small town. Creating stormy, emotionally charged relationships between her leads, along with intense love scenes is Susann’s signature style. Her beautiful, sexy heroes might sometimes dominate, but her captivating heroines love the challenge of a talented alpha.

  Susann lives Down Under, close to a golden beach with interesting shells and, occasionally, little penguins. When she’s not writing, she’ll usually be enjoying the sun, chilling with a wine or coffee or even trying to keep up with her super-speedy Italian Greyhound.

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