She smacked his hand away and then looked down at her nakedness as if to say, oh really?
“Entirely different. I was ruining you. I am ruining you.” He paused. “And you still haven’t thanked me.”
“I’ll thank you plenty,” she whispered harshly. “Later tonight, when we don’t have an audience.”
“Doubt they’d even notice.” Jack’s eyebrows shot up and then his eyes narrowed. “Devil take me, didn’t know the man had it in him, with that angle and—”
“Let me see!” Sara tried peeking around the shelf but Jack blocked her view.
“It’s not for young eyes. Believe me.” He grinned wolfishly. “I think a later demonstration will have to do.”
“You’re—”
“Impossible, yes I know,” he sighed. “Well, it seems they’re just getting started, shall we sit?”
Sara sighed, “I would, but I have no dress!”
“Sit on me.” He smirked.
“You’d just love that wouldn’t you?”
“No?”
Rolling her eyes, she moved into his arms, he very quietly slid down the bookcase carrying her body with him. They landed with a small thud, Sara naked in his lap, nearly straddling him, completely improper, then again nothing about their situation was proper.
“This is ridiculous,” she hissed, “They’re stealing our moment!”
“We had a moment?”
She smacked him. “Be serious!”
“I’m always serious,” he said soberly. “After all, isn’t anticipation everything?” He kissed both her eyelids, and then kissed each cheek, finally brushing his lips across her mouth. “Damn, I could lick your skin, and I mean that in a literal sense, you taste like heaven.”
Unable to help herself, she moaned.
Which only encouraged Jack further, as he slid his hands around her naked back and tugged her tighter against him — all of him. Too much of him, and, at the same time, not enough, not at all.
She moved closer as her body tightened with sensations she’d never experienced before.
He let out a curse, his hands imprinting themselves on her arms as he held her still. “Stop. Moving.”
“But—” She moved more. “It feels good. You feel good.”
“Bloody hell, you’ll be the death of me.” He captured her mouth in a heated kiss, his hands moving to her breasts as he sucked her lips harder and harder, his hands tangled in her hair, giving it a little tug as he assaulted her neck with his mouth.
“My, my, my, what have we here?” Came Hugh’s voice.
“Brothers,” Jack whispered, out of breath, against her neck. “I should have killed them both. At least left them at home.”
Louisa gasped. “Sara!”
Jack at least blocked part of her nakedness. “Erm, yes?”
“What do you think you’re doing?” Louisa demanded.
Sara shared a look with Jack. “What I’ve always done with Jack… breaking the rules… only this time, for good.”
“For good?” Hugh repeated. “Jack, she’s ruined!”
“Thank God for that.” Jack kissed her hungrily again. “Happy Christmas, future wife.”
Sara giggled. “Happy Christmas, Jack.”
CHAPTER NINE
One Year Later
JACK HAD SPENT YEARS lamenting the before, the afters… the because.
But today, on this Christmas, he was focusing on the now.
On Sara.
Because of Sara. He was going to be a father.
Because of Sara, he finally understood the true meaning of love and friendship.
Before Sara, he was nothing.
Before Sara, merely existing.
For Sara, he would climb mountains.
For Sara, he would be a man worthy of her affection.
“We must win,” Sara announced once she pulled her mittens over her fingers.”I hate losing.”
“Love, we always win.” Jack rolled his eyes.”Losing is never an option, besides, the earl ages before my very eyes.”
“I can hear you,” Lucas shouted.
“Surprising, since you’re so old!” Jack fired back, receiving a muttered curse form his eldest brother.
Hugh and Louisa were to the left, whispering amongst themselves.
“No cheating!” Sara pointed at them. “And if I hear you both already went through the maze, you owe everyone extra presents!”
“Ready!” Jack yelled. “Set!” He glanced around, smile frozen on his face. “Go!”
Everyone lunged forward, including Sara. He chased after her, and when he was certain they were alone, he grabbed her hand and tugged her into an alcove.
“Jack!” She shoved him in his chest. “We’ll lose.”
“Silly, girl,” he whispered, cupping her face with his hands. “We’ve already won.”
She frowned and then he pointed up.
Mistletoe hung in all its shining glory above their heads. “A Christmas kiss for your husband?”
Sara leapt into his arms and kissed him passionately across the mouth. “I love you, Jackson Mayford.”
“Hmm.” He kissed her back then whispered in her ear, “Think we should start a book on the ways you love me?”
“No.” She didn’t even pause! “I quite like the book I have, on the many ways to kill you.”