“It won’t be good.” Jack wrapped a possessive arm around Sara. “But it will be great.”
“God help us all,” Lucas swore then pointed an aggressive finger towards Jack, Sara took a step back, half expecting lightning to strike as the man made another threat. “I mean it, Jack, no sneaking around, we will discuss your intentions further after Christmas, the last thing we need is to give the Bright sisters a reason to turn on us again. And you, dear brother, have always been the tipping point. I rather like sleeping in a nice warm bed with—”
Sara scrunched up her nose while Lucas coughed into his hand.
“I’ll just be off then.” He nodded his head at both of them and marched in the direction of the house just as Sara slipped her hand into Jacksons, seeking its warmth, its familiarity.
“You know,” Jackson said once his brother was out of earshot. “I do believe it was a blind threat, like the one you give children with full knowledge that it floated into one ear and straight out the other waving goodbye on its way into forgetfulness.”
“I think you may have a point.” Sara warmed at the thought of spending the night with him, as they’d done in years past, only in years past, they’d been young. Even then it wasn’t to be done.
But they’d never really been the type of individuals to abide by any sort of rule.
“I find myself suddenly ready to retire.” Jack yawned behind his hand.
“The library,” Sara blurted before he left.” No squeaky stairs, they have a chaise, and a roaring fire, brandy…” Her voice trailed off as she lifted her one shoulder in a half shrug. “It would be a nice way to welcome Christmas.”
Jack’s eyes darkened. “I can think of many ways I’d like to welcome Christmas. They are all very vivid. Care for me to act one out?”
“Fifteen minutes.” She breathed out her answer. “Meet me there.”
“Yes.” He kissed her forcefully across the mouth before releasing her body. “Shall I bring the mistletoe?”
“What a silly question. Of course you bring the mistletoe.” She laughed. “We may need to use it as another excuse.”
“Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, my dear, but I highly doubt mistletoe will forgive the sin of nakedness. Still, to each his own, that’s what I always say.”
Warmth flooded Sara’s cheeks.
While Jack stared heatedly in her direction. “Better hurry. I’ve never been known for my patience.”
With a practiced curtsy, Sara lowered her eyes and then made her way back to the house, careful to use just the perfect amount of sway to her hips, knowing he would watch the entire way.
CHAPTER SEVEN
JACK STALKED AFTER HER like a hungry lion; he waited the allotted time, then made his way into the library and closed the door silently behind him.
The fire crackled in the hearth, spitting flames high into the chimney.
And Sara was standing in front of it, her fur shawl pooled at her slippered feet, leaving her in nothing but her white silk gown.
He took great pleasure in that very angle, the way the flames lit up the sides of her pale cheeks, her bow shaped pink lips, the way her blonde curls bounced near her jaw.
Damn it, she was beautiful.
How had he lasted three bloody years without that mouth on his? Without embracing that body?
Protecting that heart?
“I love you,” he announced boldly, taking a step towards her. “I loved you when I was six and you asked me to kiss you because you were afraid it would hurt.”
Sara hung her head, her long eyelashes kissing the tops of her cheeks.
“I loved you when you put sugar on my pillow for my birthday then ate every bite of cake in order to punish me for not saving you a birthday dance.”
Sara’s chest rose and fell with each announcement, her lips parted with a barely audible gasp.
Jack took another step, his gaze never wavering.
“I loved you three years ago, when I was finally brave enough to take you up on your offer and kiss you… I loved you then. I love you now,” he sighed. “I’ve loved you for an eternity, and it will take me twice as long, to earn you, but I’m willing to fight, willing to rage war, in order to say you’re mine. Say it, Sara, say you’ll be mine. For always.”
She was quiet.
His Sara? Quiet?
“Bloody hell.” He laughed nervously. “This is the part where you don’t leave the man hanging, but instead be quick about it before my useless heart thumps out of this pained chest and splatters itself all over your pretty feet.”
Sara’s lips quirked into a smile as she took a cautious step towards him and pressed her hand against his chest. “I paused a mere four seconds and look at you, already wide-eyed, panicked. Think you that I don’t return the same sentiments?”
“I would never presume to know a woman’s mind,” Jack said with a rasp in his voice, emotion threatened to bubble out of him again. If she kept touching him he might very well start weeping.
“Then I shall take it upon myself to clarify where I stand.”
Jack held his breath.