And she was a complete vision.
At one and twenty, he’d finally been given his inheritance, though he hadn’t a clue what to do with it. He had enough money to quite literally sit the rest of his days without lifting a finger.
But idle hands were of the devil.
He knew that well, considering his very idle hands had a devil of a time not reaching out and pulling her against his hard body, taking her lips between his and making promises a man his age had trouble keeping.
Forever — being one of them.
She giggled again, her nearly white-blonde curls bouncing at the nape of her neck as she let out another laugh.
The dance ended.
And as luck would have it, she was facing him.
“Jack?” She tilted her head. “I know that look.” Her head shook as if she was enjoying a joke at his expense. “You have a mind to put a frog in my bed don’t you? Well, I’ll have you know that I’ve locked all windows and doors, you’ll have to die and become a Christmas ghost in order to gain entry.”
He tapped his chin with his fingertips. “The idea does have merit, tell me how would you kill me?”
“Oh, I love this game.” She giggled, slipping her arm through his. “The many ways to kill Jackson Mayford!”
“Delicious, you know that sounds like a book title?”
“Ah you’ve discovered my secret, dear Jack. I mean to write a book about all of your weaknesses and then publish it. Truly, I’d be doing women everywhere a favor.”
“And what about me?” He acted hurt as he pressed a hand to his chest. “I’ll be a complete outcast.”
“Never fear. I’ll wait until you’re dead first,” She said with a cheerful pat of her hand.
“Oh.” He nodded encouragingly, “That completely sets my mind at ease. Do go on.”
They walked down the poorly lit hall to their designated spot near the bottom of the second stairway. During Christmas, one could see the maze through the large windows. Mistletoe was as always placed above the entry to the large house.
“Spiders,” she finally announced.
Jackson stopped walking. “Pardon?”
“You don’t have many fears, but I believe the fact that you nearly collided with a wall last time you saw a spider gave you away.”
“Nonsense.” Jackson shifted uncomfortably on his feet. “I was merely getting out of its line of fire, just in case it decided to launch itself into the air towards my face. Really, Sara, it’s all I have going for me, my face, whatever would I do if I was scarred for life?”
Her eyes narrowed. “You’d manage.”
“I think not. After all, I’m known for dimples more than my quick wit. Such a shame, for I think I’ve been making so much progress.”
She let out a little giggle then led him to the stairs. “Spiders in your bed?”
“Bloody hell, woman, say bed again and I won’t be able to keep myself from carrying you upstairs.”
“Nice try, you’re still not getting into my room.”
“Damn it.”
Another laugh bubbled out of her. “Tsk, tsk, such language in front of a girl.”
“Lady,” he corrected with a small bow towards her body. He released her hand and walked over toward the large door leading out into the maze.
With his back to her, he couldn’t see her approach.
But he felt her.
He always felt her.
“I love Christmas,” she whispered from his right. He risked a glance from the corner of his vision. Her bright eyes twinkled as she smiled at the ice. She smiled at the ice the way he wanted her to smile at him.
Without saying a word, he reached for her hand and simply held it.
He’d been toying with the idea of courting her for the past year. Though they only saw each other on the holidays now that they were older, it seemed to fit. After all, the children of the families were almost always at odds, but that was what happened when three little boys were placed in an enclosed space with three, hellion little girls.
Chaos.
Though he’d grown to thrive off of the bickering.
Yes, Jackson knew his heart would most likely break if he went another day without a biting word from Sara — or a smile. Either would do, for he treasured them both.
“Jack,” Sara called his attention back from the maze. Her eyes were downcast, staring at their palms pressed against one another.
Slowly, Jack moved his other hand to her hip, sliding his gloved fingertips across her ribs, tugging her small body against his.
Her eyes searched his.
He wanted this.
He wanted her.
And he was damned tired of fighting. War was fine — but he wanted the other half — the love with the war, and the only woman he would have that with would be Sara. He knew it.
“This will change everything,” she whispered as his mouth lingered near hers.
“Perhaps.” His voice was shaky. Why was his voice shaky? ”But some changes are for the better.”
“Yes.” She breathed out the answer with a sigh as she curled her arms around his neck and pressed her mouth to his.