A Match Made in Mistletoe

“Should you hold me so tight?” she whispered.

“Probably not.”

“I like it.”

With no music, they faltered to a stop. He rubbed his chin on the soft hair at her crown. “I’m beginning to think that you like a lot of things that aren’t good for you.”

“Aren’t you good for me?” she murmured, and her hand slid along his shoulder to curl around his neck.

Desire surged, hot and invincible. He swallowed to moisten a dry mouth and told himself to push her away.

He didn’t.

For a sweet interval, they embraced like lovers.

“Start singing,” he growled. “Or take the consequences.”

She lifted her head and for one sizzling second, he thought all his dreams might come true. That she’d say she wanted him and not Paul Garside. And that she didn’t give a rat’s arse if the whole world knew it.

Her eyes flickered down, and she picked up the inane little tune again. Hesitant, but true. And he went back to circling her around the room.

“So this is where you are,” Lady Talbot said from near the door.

Serena gasped and tugged free of Giles. She looked so guilty, one might think she’d been committing murder instead of dancing with an old friend. “Mamma…”

Giles pretended a nonchalance he didn’t feel. Over the years, he’d learned a little about dalliance. The appearance of innocence counted for much when caught in a compromising position. “Lady Talbot, Serena was showing me how she waltzes.”

Serena’s mother, blond and slender like her daughter, leveled an unreadable gaze upon him. “So I see.”

Serena had gathered her poise. “Giles was being unsociable, so I came looking for him.”

That was true, as far as it went. A girl’s mother didn’t need to know about kissing lessons and dawn rendezvous.

“It’s time you both rejoined the party. We missed you.”

Giles heard no hint of criticism, just the acceptance he always received at Torver House. Or, a less welcome theory, perhaps like everyone else, Lady Talbot was so used to her daughter pining after Paul that she saw no harm in Serena dancing with Giles.

Much less welcome.

“Of course, Lady Talbot.” He presented his arm to Serena, but she gave a minuscule shake of her head. He glanced between mother and daughter and made his exit with a bow.

He paused outside, worried that Serena’s mother intended to scold. If she did, he’d step in to defend his beloved.

“Mamma, I’m sorry for deserting the party,” Serena said.

“No matter, darling girl. It’s Christmas, and nobody’s standing on ceremony. If you hadn’t come to fetch Giles, I would have. He doesn’t understand that he’s one of the family.”

“I really like him, Mamma. Frederick is lucky to have such a friend.”

He winced at the word “like.” But pique couldn’t dampen his gratitude and affection for this remarkable family.

“I’ve always thought so. Paul arrives sure of a welcome, whereas Giles hangs back because he doesn’t want to impose.”

“Paul’s a good man, too,” Serena said sharply.

The warmth in Giles’s heart cooled. Although she was right. Paul was a good man, damn it. And he’d make her a fine husband.

“Indeed he is, sweetheart. And he’s desperate to dance with you again, so don’t keep him waiting.”