Page 50 of The Mistletoe Dare

Evie sighed. “No. I can never stay cross with you, you know that. Only you did vex me rather. You’ve been acting very strangely tonight.”

His eyes glinted at her from the darkened corner of the room. “Have I?”

“You know you have,” she said impatiently. “Oh, do stop prowling about and come and sit down.” She patted the space beside her on the settee.

He didn’t move for a long moment and then crossed the room to her. Evie shifted, meaning to put her feet on the floor again to make room for him, but he took them in his hands, setting them in his lap.

“Louis,” she began, startled, meaning to pull away, except his long, strong fingers began to massage her sore feet. “Oh,” she gave a blissful sigh, relaxing and stretching her legs out to let him continue.

Evie closed her eyes, biting back a moan as he kneaded and caressed her aching feet through her stockings.

“Oh, Louis, that feels so good. Divine,” she murmured. His warm, clever hands stilled for a moment before continuing once more.

“You ought not be here, Evie, alone with me.”

“Don’t start that again,” she said, smothering a yawn. “No one knows we’re here. Besides, you found me this time.”

“So I did.”

Evie stretched, feeling like a cat in the sun. She reached one arm up behind her and laid her head back, the plate balanced on her thighs. Though she wanted to eat the delicacies she’d selected, she was too sleepy and content to move a muscle. Her eyelids grew heavy, and she relaxed into the cushions.

“You look like a pampered goddess, waiting for someone to feed you,” Louis observed, his voice soft.

Evie chuckled, but didn’t open her eyes.

“It seems I must oblige then.”

She murmured a complaint as he set her feet down on the cushions, moving to kneel beside her. Evie forced her eyes to open before sleep overcame her to see Louis holding a small pastry to her lips.

“An offering from a lowly supplicant,” he said, his eyes bright blue, even in the dim light. The scent of him reached her, shaving soap and clean linen, some expensive cologne that teased at her senses, and the warmth of brandy on his breath. He had been drinking.

“You’re foxed,” she observed sleepily.

“I think perhaps you are too,” he remarked.

“Not really. Only a little tipsy, but you are a lot foxed.” She opened her mouth to take the morsel he held out.

“Enough, and not nearly enough,” he said cryptically, placing the pasty between her lips. His fingers brushed her mouth, and she saw his gaze fix there, watching her.

Evie chewed, studying him curiously. “Enough for what? Not enough for what?”

His eyelashes lowered, and the colours in the room seemed to dim without that extraordinary blue in sight. “Enough to be dangerous, not enough to entirely lose my mind.”

“Dangerous to wh—”

Louis jolted as the door opened, moving to shield her from view.

Evie gasped, suddenly wide awake and panicked, knowing this would not look good, only to let out a sigh of relief as she saw Louis’ brother in the doorway.

“What the devil do you want?” Louis demanded irritably.

Nic’s gaze drifted from Louis to Evie, reclining on the settee with his brother knelt beside her. His expression darkened. “Evie. You’re well?”

Evie frowned at him. “Of course. Just a bit worn out. I came for some peace and quiet and Louis was keeping me company.”

Louis stood up, glowering at Nic. “What did you expect her to say, brother?”

“Just that,” Nic said easily, walking into the room. “But you’re missed, Evie. I was sent to find you. It won’t be for long. Everyone is leaving now.”