Her Christmas Pleasure (The Merry Widows 2)

“I—it’s nothing.” She shook her head and smiled. It didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Shall we go, then?”

He nodded and followed as she slowly walked up the stairs, her fingers trailing along the banister. Elegant, slender fingers deftly stroked the polished wood, and he imagined her touching him. Gently caressing his bare skin, her fingers curling about the length of his shaft…

She glanced at him from over her shoulder, her lids lowered. An utterly sensual yet unpracticed look, it sent Damien’s head spinning. His erection strained against the front of his trousers, and he paused on a step, adjusting himself discreetly when she resumed facing forward. Lord help him, becoming aroused by her touching the bloody banister was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever experienced.

He couldn’t help it. Not around her. She was his everything.

Celia didn’t say a word as she walked down the hall toward her son’s bedchamber. He remained mum as well, captivated by the subtle sway of her hips. A cloud of perfume wafted behind her, surrounded him with her scent. How she tempted him…

It cannot be, you damned fool!

She paused before the door and rested her hand on the smooth wood, casting him a quick smile. Here was their problem with being together. The one object he stumbled over every time he even remotely considered it. Theodore was the future Earl of Urswick. The boy was heir to his grandfather’s title and it was one of the more powerful and wealthy holdings in all of England.

How could he be any sort of father to a boy who deserved so much more? He was the son of a lowly servant who had worked almost his entire life at Urswick Manor until he passed nine years ago. The only reason Damien had attended school with Lawrence was because of the earl. He’d funded Damien’s education. Later he’d encouraged both men to fight for their country, believing it would make them finer, stronger men. Ill advice, considering not only the fact that Lawrence left behind his beautiful wife and young son but Lawrence had been the earl’s only child and heir.

And now he was gone.

“Theo,” Celia called as she pushed open the partially closed door of her son’s bedchamber. She walked inside, Damien following directly behind her. “We wanted to come and wish you pleasant dreams, darling.”

“Thank you, Mama.” He sat in bed, looking so very adult with his owlish expression and his mouth set in a straight line. “Hello, Uncle Damien.”

“Hello, my friend.” Damien strode toward the bed, passing by Celia, and he sat on the edge of the mattress. He gave the boy a kiss on the cheek, smiled and chuckled with delight when Theo reached for him.

The boy slipped his arms around his neck and hugged him tight, pressing a kiss on Damien’s cheek in return.

“Your mother and I wanted to say good night.”

“Good night,” Theo whispered, releasing his grip on Damien and sliding deeper beneath the coverlet.

Celia appeared by the side of the bed and bent over Theo, brushing a soft kiss across his forehead. Hugs and whispered I-love-yous commenced. Damien savored the sweetly domestic scene, for it would be one of his last with the two of them. His time with the Danver family would soon come to an end. He would leave England for France and start a new life. Without Celia.

Those two words alone made his heart crack in two.

They both exited the room.

Celia watched while he quietly shut the door. “You’re so wonderful with Theo.”

They stood facing each other in the darkened hall. Only the flickering light from the sconces on the wall shone upon them. It cast Celia in an ethereal glow. She was otherworldly, angelic.

Beautiful.

“He’s a good boy.” Damien took a deep breath. “He shall make a fine earl someday.”

“Indeed he will, and especially with your influence.”

Her words shredded him. How could he tell her he was leaving? And so soon after the holiday?

“The present earl is much more of a strong influence, and a finer one at that. I’m but a mere friend of the family.” He was desperate to downplay any role he might have in the formation of Theo’s character.

“You’re not just a friend, Damien.” Celia took a step closer. Too close. He could reach out and touch her easily. Encircle her elbow with his fingers and pull her to him. Feel her breasts crush against his chest when he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her senseless.

“You are a part of our family. And an important part, too.”

He struggled to find an answer, but his tongue grew thick. She moved toward him, the whisper of her skirts sounding loud in the quiet of the hall. Resting her hands on his chest, she gazed up at him, her eyes luminous in the dim light, reminding him of the way she touched him earlier beneath the mistletoe.

“Damien.” The breathy whisper made him release a shuddering breath. “When you kissed me earlier…did you mean it?”

Confusion swamped him. “Did I mean what?”