WRONG! EVERYTHING WAS SO completely wrong. Sara had half a mind to burn the entire house down. First Meredith and now Louisa? Whatever happened to family sticking together?
Her sisters had somehow managed to do exactly the opposite of what they’d sworn they would do.
Which was fall for the most rotten creatures on God’s green earth! The frog brothers, as she’d always so eloquently addressed them, were nothing but wolves in sheep’s clothing!
And she knew all about wolves.
For one was staring her down at that very second, most likely assuming she’d fall in her sisters footsteps, blindly marching towards the beat of matrimony as she cheerfully accepted his kiss, as all the while he made moon eyes at every available female within a bloody mile!
Her heart clenched uncomfortably in her chest, she rubbed the spot, the sore spot that seemed to only resurface when Jack gave her attention, almost as if he knew the effect he had on her. Preying on her weak, delicate sensibilities, her dreams of love, her dreams of falling for a man who saw through her happy fa?ade and was willing to do bring her to heel.
Because if she was being truly honest…
That was the issue.
No man dared challenge her.
They thought her delightful! Refreshing! A diverting beautiful woman who not only spoke her mind, but did so with such grace and ease that she would make any a man proud.
Save one.
And he’d let her know it on several occasions.
Many men might desire her.
But Jack only wanted her because she was the only woman who had ever said no.
The soreness intensified.
Ridiculous! That three years ago she’d thought herself in love with him and he with her, only to discover him, not one week later, in the arms of another.
Dratted, horrible man!
Sara glared at him across the room, her fingers slowly imprinting themselves around the stem of her glass as she imagined strangling his pretty little neck. Goodness, her thoughts had been dark as of late, and it was his fault.
It was always Jack’s fault.
Even the fire, though he refused to admit it.
To think! She’d trusted him again, fallen for the charm, the sweet spell of his hypnotic words, and sensual smile. They’d recognized desperation in one another, and set about partnering up to make sure that their parents never again put them under the same roof.
All hell, by all means, should have broken loose.
Instead, it seemed Cupid had made a visit instead of Saint Nicholas.
“Careful,” came Meredith’s cheerful voice.”You’re one more squeeze away from shattering your glass.”
Sara loosened her grip around the crystal and took a deep inhale, the scent of pine and cinnamon danced around her face.
She’d always loved Christmas.
Until him.
Naturally, her eyes were drawn back to his perfect form, why must he be so attractive? His waistcoat was a dark purple velvet, he should look like a complete fop. Instead the smooth lines merely accentuated his lithe body, strong thighs. A perfect curl of dark blond hair fell across his forehead, two dimples spread across his smooth cheeks as he laughed at something his eldest brother said.
“Sara?”
Drat! “Hmm?”
“If you mean to kill him with your mind, you’re doing a fantastic job, I imagine he’ll go up in flames any moment now.”
As if on cue, he almost fell into the nearby candle.
“Huh, I must be more powerful than I thought.” She grinned.
“Lord help us all,” Meredith grumbled. “When will you cease this fighting and just admit that you care for the young man?”
“Care?” Sara repeated with a laugh. “Care?”
“Said that.”
“Care!” she stated the word again. “I care for the mice he set loose in my room more than I care for him! At least he won’t—”
Meredith’s face softened.
Sara managed a weak smile as part of her armor managed to figuratively clang to the floor. If Jackson were to come upon her, his barbs would aim true, straight for the ridiculous sore spot taking residence where her heart continued to thump, reminding her that yes, even though it was painful, she was still very much alive.
“More cider,” she managed to choke out as she forced a smile across her face and moved swiftly around the edge of the dancing couples.
The minute she reached the table, a shadow cast over her hand.
A very, familiar, sensual, shadow.
“Curls…” The voice held mild amusement. “What are you about?”
“Spiking the cider,” she said in a confident voice. “Though I imagine you’ve already done so by looking at your flushed face.”