A Match Made in Mistletoe

“I told you, you don’t need to apologize. You were blameless in what happened. In fact, I almost commend your innocence.”

This time, she managed to tug her hand from his. She hid it under the table where it clenched in her skirts. “Now that’s going too far.”

He cast her an uncertain glance. The first sign of uncertainty he’d shown, she realized. As far as Paul was concerned, he was tying up the loose ends on a sure thing.

“Serena, I don’t want to talk about last night. I want to talk about our bright future together.”

She stared hard at him. His proposal had been very pretty. But one vital ingredient was missing. This time, her voice emerged steady and decisive. “Do you love me, Paul?”

He’d reached for her hand, but now he straightened in his chair and regarded her with disquiet. She wasn’t used to seeing Paul less than confident. He was much more appealing when he didn’t act like the master of all he surveyed. Over the last few days, she’d noted everything about him that annoyed her. Now she recalled the qualities she liked very much.

“Of course I do.”

She mistrusted his swift response. “Why?”

He looked completely baffled. “We grew up together. I was here when you took your first steps. I was your first dance partner. We’ve shared every Christmas. You know I love you. I love your whole family.”

“That was a nice answer,” she said softly, picturing herself at sixteen, starry-eyed because handsome Paul Garside led her out at her first assembly in Dorchester. She’d felt like a princess in a fairytale.

Another thing she liked about Paul was that, while on occasion his self-importance misled him, he was no fool. “Only nice?”

This time she took his hand, surprised to realize that when she’d been mad for him, she’d have hesitated to touch him. Somewhere in the last days, that particular madness had passed. “Yes, nice. I love you, too.”

He brightened. “Then…”

It was her turn to shake her head. “Your presence is wrapped up in all my lovely childhood memories.”

“Surely that’s enough,” he said. “Affection and friendship add up to a lot.”

“But not to love. The sort of love a man and a woman should feel for one another when they plan to marry.”

Disapproval darkened his features. “You’re talking about desire.”

“Partly.”

“You’ve let Hallam’s kisses turn your head.”

She stared down to where their clasped hands rested on the white tablecloth. Color stung her cheeks. “If I’m in love with you, I shouldn’t feel the way I do when he kisses me.”

“But all your life, you wanted to marry me,” he said in disbelief.

She nodded. Her pride might flinch at her pursuit being no secret, but what was the point of denying something they both knew to be true? “You were very kind when I followed you around like a puppy.”

His hand firmed on hers. “I want you to follow me around for the rest of my life.”

“That’s the problem.” Gently, she withdrew, and this time, he didn’t try to stop her. “I don’t want to follow the man I marry. I want to walk by his side as his equal.”

“You’re twisting my words.”

“Perhaps.”

Abruptly he stood, and the flush on his spectacular cheekbones betrayed his chagrin. “Serena, will you marry me?”

Serena felt like crying. All her life, she’d lived with one dream. Now it came true, just as she realized it had always been the wrong dream.

She made herself meet his eyes. He looked baffled and disgruntled. And disappointed. What he didn’t look was hurt to the heart.

Because only real love could hurt like that.