Have Yourself a Merry Little Secret : a Christmas collection of historical romance (Have Yourself a Merry Little... Book 2)

by Collette Cameron

Pendragon stood at the far end of the room, pouring herself a drink from a discreet liquor service. The room appeared to be a personal study containing a desk, some chairs, and a small sofa. As Erik approached, she glanced up with a visible frown before putting the stopper in the liquor bottle and lifting her glass to down its contents in one smooth swallow.

  “Perhaps you missed my cue, Mr. Maxwell. I left the room to be alone.”

  Erik paused. “I do not wish to intrude. I just wanted to give your brother and his wife a few moments to finish a private conversation.”

  She smirked as she set her glass down and turned to face him while leaning back against the table behind her. “I assume they were arguing again. Those two have absolutely nothing in common. I cannot imagine why they thought it would be a good idea to marry.”

  Lifting a brow in genuine surprise, Erik continued forward until he stood directly in front of her. Close enough that her crimson skirts were stirred by his polished black boots. “Nothing in common?” He tilted his head to search her green eyes. Lowering his voice, he asked, “Surely you see the mutual respect and genuine admiration they have for each other. They are very different people with radically different backgrounds, I am sure. But they clearly appreciate those differences. I suspect they enjoy a deep abiding love.”

  Her eyes widened with mocking shock. “My God, you are utterly relentless and totally delusional.”

  He laughed. The woman fought hard to retain her skepticism. “If you did not see those things, surely you were able to detect the passion simmering between them.”

  “Passion is not love,” she retorted curtly. “The hotter it burns, the faster it dies.”

  “When valued and properly nurtured, passion can richen and deepen with time.”

  “Passion is lust and lust weakens as soon as it’s indulged.”

  Erik’s gaze fell to her lips—reddened and lush. “Shall we test that theory?”

  Boldly, irreverently, she tilted her head back and met his gaze with a challenging stare as she twisted her beautiful lips into an expression of sensual superiority. “Do your worst, Maxwell.”

  He could see in her eyes she expected to be disappointed. He couldn’t allow that.

  Stepping closer, he bracketed her feet with his, allowing his thighs to rest warmly against hers. Then he lifted a hand to her throat, caging the lengthened column with his fingers. The green of her eyes flashed brightly and her lips parted to allow a swift, subtle exhale. But beyond that, she did not react. He took a moment to meet her gaze, looking into her eyes with heavy intention, showing her what he wanted. Revealing the dark hunger in his soul and the secret yearning beneath the shadows.

  As her eyes narrowed, shielding the flash of light he saw in their depths, he lowered his head and took her mouth in an instantly possessive kiss. The lush cushion of her lips—the spicy and unexpectedly sweet, heady taste of her—nearly distracted him from his purpose. Full, brutal honesty. Still holding her gaze, his hand remained secure around her throat as he swept his tongue past her teeth.

  She answered the invasion with a short flick of her tongue against his. It was taunting and insolent. A reminder that she was no common conquest.

  What she failed to accept was that Erik had never seen her as such. She was perfection in form. To him, she had already surpassed every prior lover he’d ever known. And there had been many…more, perhaps, than she even realized. At this moment, he only wanted her to know how deeply he wanted her and how badly he wished to please her.

  He gave another long lick of his tongue within her mouth. It was wet and thick and unabashedly erotic and he was rewarded with a slight flutter of her sooty lashes and the darkening of her gaze.

  Tilting his head, he fit his mouth more securely to hers. Gliding his tongue in and out until she responded with a languid swirl of her tongue past his lips. Taking advantage, he suckled her tongue, drawing it deeper into his mouth before releasing it. As her eyes finally fell closed, he nearly moaned but subdued the sense of triumph he felt at her subtle, momentary surrender. She was not a woman to remain submissive for long. He’d need every bit of his skill to show her why they shouldn’t stop with a kiss.

  He gave a brief and gentle squeeze of his hand at her throat, before sliding his fingers down over her collarbone, between her pushed-up breasts, to the inward curve of her waist. Grasping her in both hands, he brought her up against him—body to body—a stunning fit.

  She seemed to agree as she brought her arms up around his neck and finally—fully—gave herself over to the kiss. Lips, tongue, teeth, breath. Swirling, tasting, licking, biting. It was passion and fire—a willful, intentional destruction, but he lost track of who was destroying whom as they went up in flames together.

  Reminding himself of the need for patience in the midst of mindless desire, Erik finally pulled back, lifting his head enough to press a final kiss to the corner of her lush mouth.

  A feeling unlike any he’d experienced before spread through him then as he slid his gaze over her features, noting the kohl-rimmed eyes, the fine cheekbones, and the way her lush, sensitive mouth curved just slightly downward at the corners. The sensation was bright and heady and wonderfully consuming.

  As her eyes swept open, he felt a deep reluctance to let her go, even for the time being. A part of him feared she wouldn’t let him this close again.

  “We should return to our hosts,” he said in a roughened voice.

  She gave a short sound of derision. “Should we?”

  He smiled at her show of scorn. “Though you sound put out, I suspect you fully enjoy their company. Even the children.”

  Pulling back from him, she smoothed her hands over her gown before replying, “One kiss and you presume to know what I enjoy.”

  Stepping closer to her, reclaiming the distance she’d placed between them, he replied in a heavy tone, “Your pleasure has become a part of me, madam. I cannot separate it from my own.”

  Though she arched her brow in a show of disdain, her pulse fluttered at the side of her throat and her gaze slipped briefly to his mouth before she replied coolly, “I hope that doesn’t prove too painful for you.” Then she swept past him and left the room.

  The damned woman was forever walking away from him.

  It was his greatest desire to change that.

  Chapter 7

  Dinner was called shortly after their return to the party and they all moved into the dining room. It was a formal, imposing space with a grand table that could easily seat a dozen or more. More richly scented evergreen formed a simple but festive centerpiece. The winter greenery was accented with red ribbons, glossy apples, and bright oranges.

  The children remained with them through dinner. Having Frederick and Claire at the table assisted in lightening and enlivening the tone of the evening, giving it a casual feel despite the obvious care that had gone into the exceptional meal consisting of various roasted meats, seasoned vegetables, mincemeat pies, steamy sweet breads, and Christmas puddings soaked in brandy.

  The young Duke of Northmoor was exceptionally intelligent and well-versed in various topics of conversation. He contributed to the adult conversation with as much ease and seriousness as he when he spoke quietly with young Claire. At one point, Lady Katherine explained that the two of them had grown up under rather unusual circumstances. Their mother had died when they were young and their father had been intensely devoted to his work in the field of herbalism and pharmacology, leaving his children to form their own educations and far from the influence most often forced upon aristocratic children to meet a certain molded expectation.

  “And I’m damned grateful, for it brought you stumbling through my door,” Hale added as he took his wife’s hand and brought it to his lips.

  “Stumbling?” the lady asked with a haughtily raised brow. “I believe you’ve forgotten that our first encounter involved a set of dueling pistols aimed for your person.”

  “On the contrary, it’s one of my favorite memories,” he murmu
red thickly before giving a quick wink that brought a tint of pink to her cheeks.

  Erik glanced to Callista with a lifted brow, wondering if she’d concede his earlier point. But she appeared to have missed the interaction between her brother and his wife as she was busy staring at him instead. Her expression was tense and her gaze narrowed as though she were contemplating something intently.

  He suspected he knew exactly what was on her mind.

  The kiss they’d shared had been everything he’d known it would be—intense and erotic, but also undeniably emotional. He’d hazard a guess to say it might have been a bit more than she’d expected.

  There was no hiding from the passion between them. The potential. Only a fool would deny it existed and the woman was no fool. Despite that, Erik was under no delusion that his campaign had been won with a single kiss.

  As her gaze flickered with the shadow of something unnamed, he almost wished he could reassure her. But she’d have to come to her own conclusions about what she was feeling and what it meant for the two of them.

  Though he chose not to say anything, he did offer a smile.

  Her expression tightened in response before she looked away to sip from her wineglass.

  After the meal, the party returned to the drawing room. It wasn’t much longer before Claire’s nurse came to fetch the young girl. Though she pouted about having to leave, it was clear the little girl was ready for bed. The young duke decided to go upstairs as well. Though his sister assured he could stay and visit a bit longer if he liked, he explained that he wished to work on his current project before going to bed. Before they left, Callista stopped the children beside her chair. Leaning toward them, she whispered something and handed each of them a small velvet pouch. Their smiles were bright as they continued from the room.

  “That wasn’t necessary, Lissy.”

  There was a heavy note in Hale’s voice, but his sister looked at him with an arched brow. “It was just a few sweets and a coin or two. Nothing inappropriate, I assure you.”

  “Still a helluva lot more than we ever got,” he muttered gruffly.

  “Yes, well, that is the whole point, isn’t it, Mace? To leave the evils of the past in the gin-soaked lanes where they belong.”

  A silent communication passed between the siblings before Hale raised his glass. “Hear, hear.” After that, he launched into a tale of one particular holiday in his youth that involved a runaway pig, a gang of street urchins, and a frozen ditch that proved to be not so frozen after all. Erik followed with a story of one year when his acting troupe met up with a caravan of the Rom while traveling through Italy. The two groups all contributed to an elaborate festival of dancing, drinking, and feasting that lasted four days without stop.

  The evening continued with more shared stories and bittersweet recollections as laughter flowed as freely as the wine. Eventually, however, the hour grew late and the liveliness of the gathering began to fade. As they all made their way to the entry hall, where the butler waited to hand off their winter coats and cloaks, Hale hauled Lady Katherine in against his side with a thick arm around her waist. Tossing his sister a wide grin, he said, “Not such a bad evening, eh, Lissy?”

  The look she gave him was full of amiable annoyance. “It was tolerable, I suppose.”

  Lady Katherine, not at all put out by Callista’s sarcastic response, smiled warmly. “I thought it was lovely. Thank you both so much for celebrating the holiday with us. I hope we’ll have an opportunity to repeat the experience soon.”

  Erik was in the process of settling Callista’s black fur-lined cloak about her shoulders and he felt the brief, subtle tensing in her body. Smoothing his hands over her shoulders, he replied to their hostess with an easy smile. “It would be a pleasure and an honor, Lady Katherine.”

  The night was crisp with cold, but the sky was clear. Moonlight and stars brightened the sky and filtered a silver haze into the atmosphere as they climbed into the carriage, where a warmer had been set on the floor to keep their toes from freezing. Even so, Erik immediately reached for the heavy woolen rugs set in the corner and unfolded them over their legs.

  Though they sat close beside each other to share the limited warmth, neither spoke for a while as their breath puffed cold into the air. And when he noticed the woman beside him still shivering with cold even after the vehicle began to warm, he brought his arm up around her shoulders and slowly drew her in closer against his side.

  If she had given any sign of resistance to the shift in position, he would have ceased, but she didn’t. In fact, she offered a quiet sigh as she rested her head against his shoulder and curved her body toward his. One of her hands fell to his upper thigh beneath the blanket, causing a swift rise in his internal temperature.

  With his cock hardening and his chest aching sweetly, he looked down to see that her eyes had closed and her features were in repose. He wasn’t sure if it was the wine or their shared comfort that encouraged her to claim a moment of rest, but he was grateful for it as he allowed himself the luxury of admiring her beauty at this intimate angle.

  The black kohl lining her eyes added a dramatic element to her features but he found himself more mesmerized by the lush fan of her lashes against her smooth skin. The red tint she often added to her generously curved lips had all but faded away throughout the evening, leaving her mouth a dusky rose color that was soft and sensual. Even in repose, there was an element of calculated ambition in the details of her face. It was there in her broad, smooth forehead and in the angled, almost square shape of her jaw and in the slashing arches of her elegant brows.

  Such a formidable woman.

  He knew she could be ruthless when it was warranted. She could be cool and manipulative and brash. She was relentlessly competitive and arrogant and utterly bewitching. And yet, she was allowing this moment. A moment of silent companionship and shared ease.

  His heart ached with the privilege even as his body tensed and hardened with the visceral pleasure of having her lush softness pressed against him.

  Leaning his head back against the wall of the carriage, he closed his eyes, as well. Listening to her even breath and the rhythm of the carriage wheels while soaking up the warmth and ease and honor of holding her in his arms, he might have drifted off a bit before the lurch of the vehicle as it came to a stop brought him swiftly back to full awareness. Blinking, he lifted his head and glanced about as the lady in his arms also stirred. Her hand on his thigh tensed and squeezed as she used it to leverage herself to a more independently seated position a moment before the groom opened the carriage door.

  As she leaned forward to glance outward, she muttered a quiet curse.

  “What is the matter?” Erik looked past her into the night. Beyond the groom who stood holding the door, he saw a softly lit townhouse. The residence was stately and stylish in a way that spoke of understated wealth.

  “I forgot to instruct the driver to drop you at your club.”

  “Where are we?” He knew it wasn’t Pendragon’s Pleasure House as he’d already made sure to acquaint himself with its location though not its services.

  Her expression tightened as she replied in a clipped tone, “I’d prefer no one know of this place.”

  “Your private residence?”

  “Private no longer, unfortunately,” she grumbled in response.

  “It pleases me to know you have a place you can go to retreat from all of the demands on your time and personal attention,” he replied gently.

  He waited for her to say that it was not her intention to please him, but she just slid him a glance from the corner of her eye and said nothing.

  “I’m sure you’re anxious to be in the warmth and comfort of your home. I’ll walk you to your door, then your driver can take me to my club.”

  “No,” she replied readily, “you can stay here, I’ll walk myself to the door, then my driver can take you to your club.”

  Erik laughed. “As you wish, madam, but first…” He caught her ga
ze with his. “I must request another kiss.”

  Her lips curled in amusement. “You must?”

  “Indeed,” he replied, lowering his voice to an intimate murmur. “If I did not, I would never forgive myself for the cowardice of letting you go without at least trying to taste you again.”

  Cynicism returned to her gaze. “And why should I allow it this time?”

  “Because you want to taste me just as badly. And you are no more a coward than I am.”

  Her laugh was sultry but held a harsh note. “You think that kind of blatant challenge will work on me?”

  “I do. Because it is the simple truth.”

  He waited for her acknowledgement, knowing it would come. Because along with her bold confidence came deep and undeniable self-awareness. He saw the acceptance in her eyes a moment before she placed her hand back on his thigh and leaned toward him.

  Lifting his gloved hand, he slid his fingers along the side of her jaw then back to curve around the base of her skull and gently tip her face up to his. Tension built between them as he stared into her eyes before moving to take her mouth.

  She likely expected a kiss similar to their first—fiery and fierce. But he wanted something else in this moment. Wanted to offer something else.

  As a gust of frigid air swept through the open door of the carriage, causing the woman in his arms to give a delicate shudder, he lowered his head. Brushing his lips warmly across her cool lips in a careful application of friction and pressure, he waited for her eyes to drift closed. As soon as they did, he began to sip gently from her lips in quiet little kisses.

  Her soft sigh as her mouth parted urged him to deepen the kiss. Adjusting his hand to more fully cup the back of her head, he angled his mouth over hers. Though their lips were parted enough to share warmth of breath, he did not employ his tongue to taste her secrets just yet.

  The slow seduction of the kiss affected him as much as he hoped it might affect her. His insides melted with yearning and desire. His body thrummed with need. But it was a need he was more than happy to deny. The pleasure to be found in the lush sweetness of her mouth was all he wanted to explore just now.