Mismatched Under the Mistletoe

by Michaels, Jess

  He leaned down and she lifted up, drawn to him like a magnet. Their lips were not a millimeter apart, and then not even that. Then he was kissing her and everything else faded away.

  Cav brushed her mouth gently at first, just the stroke of his lips on hers. But as his hand closed around her bicep, the timidity of his kiss evaporated. The hesitation that was meant to give her an opportunity to escape. When she didn’t take it, he took over and she felt every bit of his reputation as an experienced, passionate rake. He claimed. His mouth opened and she did the same. He dragged her against him with a rough groan and she clutched at his lapels for purchase as she tried to pull him even closer. His tongue speared past her lips, tasting her, exploring her, sucking her, teasing her. All she could do was surrender, softening beneath his touch as her entire body began to throb with a need she hadn’t felt for years.

  A need she recognized, despite the long separation from it. She wanted him to do more than kiss her. Right here in the library in the home she’d once shared with his best friend. With her husband.

  And that thought tore through her mind and she yanked back.

  “Cav,” she whispered against his still-seeking lips. “Cav. Cavendish!”

  He pulled away and took a long step back. His blue eyes were dilated to almost pure black, and his hands shook as he shoved them to his sides. They were silent for what felt like an eternity, each looking at the other, the weight of what they’d done hanging between them.

  “I’m sorry,” he finally said, “if I did something you didn’t want.”

  She caught her breath. That was the worst part of all of this, in the end. It was something she wanted. She’d wanted him to kiss her, she’d taken enthusiastic part when he did. There was no lack of consent here. And that was wrong. But it felt so right.

  “You shouldn’t be sorry,” she managed to croak out. “You did nothing wrong.”

  He arched a brow at her, as if challenging her to go further down that path. But she couldn’t. Not right now when her head was spinning.

  “I should—I should go,” she gasped. “I shouldn’t be here.”

  His shoulders rolled forward and his full lips, the ones she knew the feel of now, pursed and went white and flat. “As you wish. I would not keep you.”

  She paused, waiting for him to say something, anything. To make this right, just as he’d been making everything right for her for the last five years. But he didn’t. He simply allowed for that kiss to hang between them.

  Since she didn’t know what to do with it, she staggered from the library, closing the door behind herself and leaning against it in the hall. She dragged great breaths into her lungs as she fought the strangest urge to just…cry. Tears of heartbreak, tears of confusion…tears of relief. She had kissed Cav and it was a relief, as if she’d been waiting for it for a long time.

  “No, you’re just confused,” she said to herself as she marched to the stairs and upward. She needed to go to her room and calm herself. To touch herself, if need be, because everything felt hot and shaky, and perhaps that was why she was so confused about Cav. Whatever she planned to do, she needed to do it swiftly, before she ruined the closest friendship in her life.

  Before she ruined everything.

  * * *

  Cav stood, staring into the fire. Trying not to stare at the door where Emily had just departed. More to the point, trying not to follow her out that door, catch her arm and kiss her all over again.

  Kiss her. Christ, he’d been dreaming of doing that for a decade. Haunting, aching dreams that made him hate himself and long for her all at once. He’d promised himself he would never betray Andrew, and he hadn’t. But Andrew was dead now. Long dead, long gone. It was no less true just because it was heartbreaking.

  Cav didn’t owe the man allegiance anymore.

  He sank into the chair before the fire and scrubbed a hand over his face. Emily’s mouth had been so soft beneath his lips. She’d tasted faintly of tea and mint, of sweetness and passion. And when she’d gripped his lapels and lifted against him with that little sound of pleasure that came from deep within her chest?

  It made him hard just thinking about it. Thinking about that proof that she had wanted him in that heated, powerful moment as much as he wanted her. But was it permanent or fleeting? That was the question.

  After Andrew’s death, Cav had certainly considered what the future might hold. But her grief had been so powerful, so overwhelming, that he hadn’t pursued his heart. Instead, he’d let their mutual love of Andrew bond them into deeper friends. In truth, he valued that friendship as much as he’d valued the one with her late husband.

  Perhaps he valued it more. Emily didn’t let many people near. She was friendly, of course, sunny and light and the kind of woman who would design an entire party over trying to help spinsters find true love. No one who met her could do anything but adore her.

  But those friendships were surface, at best. She had lost so much, first Andrew, then her parents, in rapid succession that she had begun to hold others at arm’s length. Except for Cav. She had let him in.

  That had as much value as any kiss.

  But damn, the kiss had been spectacular. Before she pushed him away. Before she ran from him, her face pale and streaked with fear and confusion.

  “You knew it might be this way,” he reminded himself as he got up and stirred the fire absently.

  It was true. He hadn’t ever assumed that if he showed his hand to her, let her see his desire…or his love…that she would automatically accept it. She would need to think on it. She might even run from it.

  But now it was out. At least on some level. And he would just have to wait and see how she would respond next. He’d been patient this long. Staying the course was the best way to end this game of chess. He only hoped he would end up with the queen.

  * * *

  It had been five hours and twelve minutes since Cav kissed her in the library. Emily probably could have counted the seconds, but that seemed a dangerous road to travel. Reliving the kiss over and over to the distraction of all other conversation or activity was dangerous enough.

  Even at supper, she hadn’t been able to take her eyes off of him, down on the opposite end of the table, talking and smiling with other guests. Comfortable, as if kissing her hadn’t meant anything to him.

  Perhaps it…didn’t? Despite how kind Cav always was to her, how perfectly proper when they were together, his game of catch and release with women was well known. He took lovers—he wasn’t particularly secretive about it. But he never courted anyone. So perhaps kissing her was some continuation of that game he played.

  That sat in her chest like a rock. The party had moved to the parlor and everyone was talking and laughing as they prepared for the presentations they’d planned earlier. Cav stood at the window, leaning against the wall beside it, arms folded as he watched the scene play out. His gaze darted to her, and her heart throbbed.

  The reaction became even stronger when he pushed from the wall and made his slow way across the room to her. There was a fluidity in his movements, a certainty she had never marked before. A swagger that announced to the room that he was a man who knew what a lady needed. She’d never felt that directed toward her, but there it was, aimed firmly at her. She shivered as he stopped a foot away.

  “Lady Rutledge,” he said, loud enough that the room could hear.

  She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t breathe. She fought to do both. “Yes, Mr. Cavendish?”

  “Perhaps you’d like to begin the presentations,” he suggested, his tone gentle. Her friend back, rather than the man who had held her so close and kissed her so thoroughly.

  She shook her head and felt heat creep into her cheeks. “Of course. Yes.”

  She moved past him and to the fire where the chairs in the room had all been turned. Somehow she managed to keep a smile on her face as she reminded the party that anyone could exhibit and how including colly birds of any variety, from crow to raven to blac
kbird, would inspire more applause.

  The party was jolly and immediately many raised their hand to participate. Emily came back to her spot to watch from afar, but she could scarcely find pleasure in the exercise, no matter how much laughter and light filled that happy room.

  Because Cav had returned to his spot by the window. And though he occasionally glanced at her, he made no move to join her. To touch her. To connect with her again. So she was left wondering if the kiss that had meant so much to her meant anything to him.

  And why it stung so much that something that never should have happened was so unimportant to Cav.

  Chapter 6

  Five Gold Rings

  It was probably too cold for what Emily had in mind on the fifth day of the party. But there were so few options for the five gold rings in the Christmas poem that she felt backed into a corner.

  Actually, backed into a corner was what she felt in general at present. All night she’d thought of Cav and the weight of his mouth on hers, the taste of him, the slide of his tongue that promised so much more. And yet he’d avoided her. He’d been avoiding her all of this day, as well. Even now he stood as far away from her as he could, on the opposite side of the group. His arms were folded across that broad chest as he spoke to Lady Abigail and never looked in Emily’s direction.

  Emily was beginning to get frustrated by it all.

  “You are so creative, my lady,” came a voice to her right.

  Emily jumped, for she hadn’t realized that Lady Mulberry had joined her. “I—thank you, my lady,” she responded with difficulty. She scanned the gathering group of partygoers and frowned. “I do not see your daughters in the crowd.”

  The viscountess shifted and her discomfort was clear. “They are…sensitive to the cold, my lady, and have cried off the festivities with their sincere apologies.”

  Emily worried her lip. She had been looking for a distraction from thoughts of Cav’s kiss, but this was not something more pleasant. She had plans, after all, and this put a damper on them.

  “Oh,” she said slowly. “Well…that is a shame. I do understand, though. We have been lucky that the weather has been mild during this party, but today there is a nip to the air that goes a bit deeper.” She frowned and gathered her woolen pelisse closer. “I hope the others are not equally upset by the choice of activity. We will be moving and that should help.”

  “I’m sure they won’t be,” Lady Mulberry reassured her, but didn’t look as certain as she sounded as she patted Emily’s hand and then slipped back to the crowd.

  Emily barely resisted the urge to huff out a breath in frustration. Oh, why did everything have to be so complicated? These endeavors had seemed so perfect in her mind. She would pair off everyone and Cav would help her. But no one was cooperating in their pairings, and Cav had kissed her and then walked away.

  She shook her head. No. She would not get wrapped up in the bad. She would focus on her next step.

  “I realize it is cold, but the fifth day of Christmas presents us with gold rings.” She nodded, and footmen appeared from the house with large hoops. “And while these are only painted gold, I think you will find them to be an exhilarating way to pass the time. We are going to the top of the hill yonder—” She pointed off in the close distance to a rise. “And racing the hoops down.”

  There was a burst of laughter at the idea of all these adults participating in a child’s game, but no one argued. “I have paired you off again for the race. You must stay together as you guide your hoop down to the finish line. In fact, you will be required to link arms as you do so.”

  There was an excited murmur at that scandalous suggestion, which was exactly what Emily had wanted. In the country she could get away with such a thing, couldn’t she?

  She announced the pairs, linking the ladies with either gentlemen they hadn’t been exposed to yet or ones she thought might have made a connection of some kind. Then she frowned. She had expected to pair the twins with two of the male guests, but now she would have to pair chaperones instead. Though she supposed that could still lead to the match for one of the younger ladies in attendance. The chaperones would work on the gentlemen, as they always did.

  “And since the Ladies Honoria and Prudence are not joining us this afternoon, I will ask that Lady Mulberry pair with Lord Levenridge.” She glanced over the crowd and smiled at Abigail Delafield’s paid companion, Miss Hester Bright. “And Miss Bright will pair with Mr. Powell.”

  “And who will you partner with, Lady Rutledge?” Lord Weatherall asked as he offered his arm to Lady Thea, who he had been paired with.

  Emily caught her breath. She had been so busy making the pairings for everyone else, she hadn’t thought about who she would take as a partner in the race. Well…that wasn’t entirely true. She had always known she would pair with Cav. After all, she wasn’t matching him at this event and she could depend on him.

  But that was weeks ago. And now things were different. But who else was available? She had paired all the gentlemen and ladies and chaperones. If she changed anything now, it would make the odd rift between her and Cav a matter of public record. Not something she wanted for the rumor mill, nor for the future of their friendship.

  “With Mr. Cavendish, of course. I always give myself the best advantage when it comes to a friendly competition.”

  Cav smiled slightly as the crowd laughed and took the last hoop from the footman before he crossed the lawn to her. He offered an arm to her as he glanced down. “My lady.”

  Oh, that was right. She had insisted the pairs join arms. So she couldn’t avoid touching him. Something she’d done so often, but never after being kissed thoroughly in the library. Now she stared at that strong arm, muscles plain even beneath the layers of greatcoat.

  She wanted so much to touch him. Too much. When she did, folding her fingers at the crook of his elbow, it was like someone sucked the air from her lungs. Her head spun and she curled her toes in her warm boots.

  “To the hill,” she croaked out, pointing off in the distance. The others headed off, with her and Cav in the rear. Without all the eyes in the party on them she felt more comfortable in examining his face, trying to read what he thought or felt today.

  It was impossible. His expression was impassive aside from his tightly pressed lips. Lips she knew the feel of. Damn it, she had to stop thinking about that.

  But still, he didn’t speak as the couples lined up at the top of the hill. She forced herself to focus on the plan and said, “Ready, set…go!”

  When she said the last, the couples launched, hustling down the hill as they tried to push their hoops in any semblance of control. She and Cav did the same. He pushed the hoop and they followed, taking turns tapping it to try to keep it in line. It should have been fun. Under any other circumstance it would have been. Cav was always up for a game, he never put ego above enjoyment. And yet neither of them was laughing.

  She hated it. Hated that the moment in the library had changed things. She didn’t want things to change. She wanted to depend on this man as her friend forever. Except now she also wanted more. Like a fool.

  Her distraction had consequences, just as everything in life did. When Cav tapped the hoop toward her, she didn’t catch it soon enough to tap it in a straight line, and it careened off toward the opposite side of the hill, where it bounced out of sight.

  She released Cav and they raced after it together, out of sight of the rest of the party, who were all laughing and stumbling toward the bottom of the hill and the makeshift finish line her staff had created with a long line of bright Christmas ribbon.

  “There it is!” she said, and pointed to the hoop, which had come to rest near a little pile of rocks amongst the dead grass and long faded wildflowers.

  Cav grunted but didn’t speak as they reached it together. She picked it up with one hand and then faced him. “Cav, please won’t you talk to me?”

  She realized as she spoke that she was worrying her gold wedding ring, th
e one she still wore, and Cav’s face grew stormy as he turned away from her with a snort.

  “What is the point in speaking when I know your face better than any other? I can see what you’re going to say without hearing it,” he said. “You’re going to recite an entire soliloquy about how we shouldn’t have done what we did in the library, aren’t you?”

  She froze. That had been her intention, after all. To tell Cav that they couldn’t repeat the imprudence of the kiss. But now, staring at him, his face fierce in the cold, his eyes holding hers and flashing with emotion and something…hotter…bolder…she didn’t want to say that.

  He shook his head when she didn’t respond, and pivoted as if to walk away. She didn’t know how she moved or how she came up with the imprudent plan that followed. But she gasped and leapt forward, gliding the hoop over his head so that he couldn’t go forward.

  He spun around in the circle and arched a brow at her. “Fine. If you want to do this, I suppose there has never been any stopping you. Do you have something to say, Emily?”

  “You’re right. I-I don’t want to ruin our friendship,” she whispered, and wished she could say it more strongly. But it all felt so charged now. So dangerous.

  “We don’t have to ruin our friendship,” he huffed out.

  She shook her head and tugged on the hoop, forcing him closer a step. She stared up into his dark eyes and fought the shiver that wracked her from head to toe.

  “How could we not?” she whispered. “I…want you and it’s…it is bound to turn everything on its head.”

  His eyes went wide and his hand fluttered at his side, as if he wished to touch her. “You—you want me?” he repeated, shock heavy on every word.

  She nodded. She knew she shouldn’t nod. Knew she shouldn’t uncork this bottle, because she would never be able to close it again. It would never be the same. But neither would it be the same if she felt this ache, this horrible, powerful, wonderful thing…and never let it out.