Page 29 of How the Duke Saved Christmas

“Did you enjoy yourself this afternoon?” he asked as casually as possible, yet he knew there would be a world of meaning in her answer.

“I did.” She grudgingly admitted, “It was nice to be out in the fresh air, in the woods and fields. I thought…”

When her voice trailed off, he prompted gently, “You thought what?”

With a self-deprecating smile, she shook her head. “It doesn’t matter if I enjoyed myself. The children had a grand time. That’s what matters.”

“They certainly did.” Not wanting to push her too much about being out of her room, he warned instead, “They’ll hold you to your promise, you know.”

“What promise?”

“Hot chocolate and gingerbread in the conservatory this evening.”

Her bright smile sparked a warmth deep inside his gut before she turned back to look over the heads of the ponies, who flicked their ears back and forth in an attempt to eavesdrop as they plodded out of the woods. “Chocolate and sweets… That’s the kind of promise I always like to keep.”

Unable to stop himself, he reached over slowly and took her hand. She stiffened with surprise when he lifted her hand to his mouth and placed a kiss to her knuckles. But she didn’t pull away, and emboldened, he gently took the fingertips of her glove between his teeth and slipped it off her hand. He let the cream-colored glove fall away onto his lap.

This time when he kissed her bare palm, a shiver raced through her that had nothing to do with the cold winter.

“Michael,” she whispered, so softly that his name was nearly lost beneath the muted sound of the sled runners beneath them.

He dared to take another kiss and let his lips linger against her warm, soft skin. He nearly groaned at the sweetness of her, of her familiar taste and scent that still haunted his dreams and even now made him ache with desire.

When her fingers curled slightly beneath the feel of his lips, he placed tender kisses to her fingertips. “There are other promises worth keeping, too.”

He closed his mouth around her finger, and she gasped. The sound pulsed through him and tightened his gut. So did the quickening of her breath when he lightly sucked.

They’d once done far more together than this, when she’d lain so scandalously with him on a picnic blanket that last summer when they were still together. With her legs bare beneath the skirt gathered at her thighs and her untamed hair lying around her shoulders, she’d been the most delicious temptation he’d ever experienced in his life. He’d summoned all his restraint not to take her innocence right there amid the wildflowers, instead finding his pleasure in bringing her to hers in all kinds of wanton ways. Yet now he trembled from these chaste kisses to her hand as much as he had that day from his kisses to her bare breasts and the quivering flesh between her thighs.

“What promises…would those be?” Her voice emerged as hoarse sighs between light pants.

He twirled his tongue seductively around her finger, then moved on to do the same to the next. One by one, slowly and decadently… “You promised you’d let me kiss you and touch you for the rest of our lives.” He drew a faint whimper from her lips when he licked at the sensitive flesh between her fingers. “You promised to marry me.”

She stilled. Confusion darkened her face, but so did the desire his lips and mouth were flaming inside her. “Some promises,” she murmured sadly, “shouldn’t be kept.”

He pulled the team to a stop at the edge of the woods. Lowering her hand from his lips, he ignored the stutter of his heart at the pain he glimpsed in her and reached to cup her cheek against his hand. He needed the reassurance of that touch as much as she did. Yet when she closed her eyes and parted her lips with a soft tremble, he knew her expression wasn’t one of invitation to be kissed. It was anguish.

“Why not?” He stroked his thumb over her chin in soft entreaty for an answer, but she only shook her head. “Clara, please.”

Bittersweet longing spread through him, compounded by the warmth of her skin against the cold air, by her scent of roses that mingled with the pine and conjured the sensation of a garden in the winter forest. She was a beautiful rose amid the tangled undergrowth. He ached to lower his head to bring his lips to hers and kiss away all the pain, anger, and grief they’d both carried inside them.

“You once loved me,” he whispered, his mouth so close to hers that her warm breath tickled his lips. “And God knows I loved you.”

He still did. As if to prove it, he slipped his hand back and gently caressed at the delicate flesh behind her ear.

A shiver swept through her.

“I wanted to be with you, to share a family and a future… Why did you end it?”

“You know why.” A soft sigh came from her when he began to massage his thumb in slow circles againsther nape. “The accident…”

“For which you still blame me.”

Slowly, she opened her eyes and looked at him, and he knew why she’d closed them before. She hadn’t wanted him to see the anguish and grief churning inside her.

“Can’t you forgive me, Clara?” He lost the battle and lightly touched his lips to hers. Not a kiss, not really. It was a plea for absolution.

“I don’t blame you,” she whispered so softly that the words were barely louder than a breath, yet his heart heard every word. “I never did.”