Page 18 of Christmas Magic

Lucian inwardly groaned. At least he now knew the general time to expect Cora. With luck, by four o’clock, he’d have thought of an excellent reason why he couldn’t dress up for the society until sometime next year. Molly, though, seemed even more unsettled than he was. “Don’t let Cora upset you.”

“The cats said the same thing, but it’s hard not to be upset.”

An adorable frown creased Molly’s brow. Over the four months that they’d been a couple, he’d learned how to ease her frowns: a kiss on her temple, on her cheek, on her lips….

He slid his arms around her. Gazing down into her eyes, he said, “You have no reason to worry about Cora’s interest in me—or any other woman’s.”

Love for her glowed like fire in his chest. After all they’d been through together, and asking her to be his wife, he’d never go back on his promises made to her. Never.

Molly’s arms closed around his waist. “You have to understand, Lucian. We’re not married yet, and….”

“No, we’re not married yet. But?”

Her cheeks turned pink. “You’re interesting. Brilliant. Charming.”

Grinning, he kissed her forehead. “I am starting to like this conversation. Go on.”

“Kind. Gallant.”

“Some of the qualities of a medieval knight, which I was—am—after all.”

“Yes.” Her lashes fluttered. “You’re also really nice to look at.”

He winked. “Why, thank you.”

“All in all, you’re just very…hot.”

“Ugh,” Galahad muttered. “I can’t take any more.”

While the female cats continued eating, the squire marched past Lucian and out into the store.

A husky growl rumbled in Lucian’s throat as he kissed Molly’s cheek and then her lips. As their mouths joined, she sighed, as though releasing some of her anxiety. He lingered, kissing her slowly, thoroughly, and savoring the pleasure of having her in his arms.

At last, she exhaled a deep breath and rested her cheek against the middle of his chest.

He kissed the top of her head. “Better now?”

“A little.” She sighed again. “You’re just so exceptional, Lucian. Compared to you, I’m…well….”

“Extraordinary.” He rested his chin on her head. “Smart. Gorgeous.”

She made a small, dismayed sound. “I’m not—”

“Yes, you are. You’re the one I want. The only woman I want to be my wife, now and always.”

Her gaze, shining with love, met his.

“If I haven’t told you today,” he murmured, “I love you.”

She smiled. “And I love you.”

“Good, because if you didn’t, I would persuade you otherwise. I’d use any tactic in my arsenal, no matter how medieval.”

“Hmm.” Her brows rose. “Are you throwing down an invisible gauntlet?”

“Yep.” He winked. “I could toss you over my shoulder right now and race off to my—our—castle. However, we’re supposed to be running the shop until six.”

Her smile turned coy. “Perhaps after dinner at Medici?”