Page 42 of Christmas Magic

“You are very kind to wait.” Cora patted his cheek, her hand lingering a little longer than necessary.

Lucian’s face grew hot. Knights did not usually have their cheeks patted. ’Twas simply not done. But, the touch of Cora’s warm skin kindled within him an undeniable rush of affection.

Holding her gaze, he savored the mischief in her expression. Ah, but he liked a woman with confidence and a sense of humor. Turning his face, he pressed a kiss to her palm. “I will see you anon.”

“Whatever did you do to Lucian?”

Poor Roberta looked on the verge of fainting. That might cause her to topple sideways into the bakery’s Christmas tree. Not good for Roberta or the pretty glass ornaments.

Cora caught her friend’s arm to steady her then guided them forward one step, closer in the line to the hostess podium. To ensure Roberta heard over the hum of noise inside the bakery, Cora put her mouth close to her friend’s ear. “I used the sprinkles.”

“You didn’t!”

“Obviously, I did.”

“But…there’s no such thing as magic.” A plea underscored Roberta’s voice, as though she might now believe there really was such a thing but didn’t want to.

“I know it’s not easy to accept, because magic is invisible and intangible,” Cora said. “The change in Lucian, though, proves the magic is real.”

“Are you sure he’s not just acting?”

Cora choked. “Acting? Why would you think—?”

“He’s an expert on the Middle Ages. That’s his specialty, remember?”

“True, but you saw the way he looked at me. Do you believe he pretended to be infatuated with me?”

Roberta shook her head. “He seemed genuine. I still can’t believe it, though. I just can’t.”

“I have some sprinkles left. They’re in my handbag. Maybe you’d like to use them?”

Her friend’s mouth gaped. “No. Absolutely not.”

Cora shrugged. “If you change your mind, you only have to ask.”

The queue moved again, and they reached the podium.

Diane smiled. “Great to see you again, ladies. Table for two, as usual?”

“Three, actually,” Roberta said. “Grace Wilson will be joining us.”

“How nice.” Diane glanced across the diner. “Your favorite booth is free. This way.”

A short while later, seated with menus and a carafe of coffee on the table between her and Roberta, Cora set down the spoon she’d used to stir creamer into her java. She studied her friend, who’d poured eight packets of sugar into her beverage and was ripping open yet another one. “Are you still thinking about the sprinkles?”

Roberta’s mouth flattened. “You need to tell someone what you’ve done.”

“Why should I?”

Roberta dropped the empty packet onto the pile. “It’s not right.”

Cora curled her hand on the tabletop. “What isn’t right? Using magic?”

“Using magic. Taking advantage of Lucian.”

“Taking advantage—?”

“You didn’t ask if it was okay with him to be under the influence of magic sprinkles, did you?”