Page 10 of Yule Be Mine

Indignation flamed up in Penelope like a fire fed with dry wood and potent spirits. She whirled around, her hoops riding up allowing chilled air underneath her warm petticoats. The shock of that simply fueled her further as she stalked back toward Yule and the murmuring guests, taking in every bit of the spectacle.

“What’s the matter, Mr. Quartermain? Have your legs no strength? Are you winded from lugging the greenery back to the clearing? I told you you should have let me do it.” Penelope’s voice carried loudly in the crisp air. “A young lady has quite enough stamina to prevail when older gentlemen discover they don’t have the staying power they think they have.”

Yule’s eyes narrowed, but he kept his silence, which infuriated Penelope even further.

“Or do you fear I will simply outrun you? To make a poor showing in front of your friends might make you seem ridiculous.” Penelope had slowed down until she stood about five feet in front of Yule, who hadn’t budged. “What’s wrong, Mr. Quartermain? Cat got your tongue?”

“Behave yourself, Penelope,” was all she got from him, in a low growl.

“Or what? You’ll chase me?” She made a face, sticking her tongue out at him just as she’d done all those years ago when he and Victor had forbidden her to tag along to the fishing pond one day. “You couldn’t catch me if you tried.”

Without warning, Yule lunged toward her.

Penelope shrieked, and threw herself backward, circling around the pathway, as the crowd cheered her on. She dodged and wove back and forth, laughing as he came close enough to brush her sleeve before she nimbly skipped out of his reach. This was more like it. She twisted around the stump of a tree, putting it between her and Yule, her gaze darting here and there, trying to find a path to freedom. The only one left her was down between the rows of oak trees.

She turned to flee toward her only hope of escape when her heel caught on a half-submerged root. With a cry she fell, her arms going out instinctively to keep her hoops from tangling, guiding them to collapse under her as she’d been taught since she’d first graduated to grown-up clothing more than three years ago.

Strong arms embraced her before she had sunk a foot. Yule grasped her, his hands easily spanning the circumference of her waist and lifted her with an ease that took her breath away. Everything about him took her breath—the touch of his hands on her body, the nearness of him pressed right against her, the faint scent of his citrus cologne—until her lungs burned for lack of air. The rest of her burned as well.

He turned her around until she faced him, staring into the dark blue, no, almost black eyes as he studied her for several moments. The crowd had hushed until all she could hear were the beating of her heart and the whoosh of the wind through the trees.

Mesmerized, Penelope peered at him, wondering if he was simply going to stand there holding her forever. Well, she wouldn’t mind that at all. Her gaze strayed upward, past his face to the lofty oaks above them—and the large green ball with waxy, white berries clinging to it directly above them.

Penelope found her footing and pushed upward, sliding her arms around Yule’s neck, and pressed her lips onto his, kissing him for the very first time.

Heat poured through her from her lips, down her arms, her back, her sides, all the way down her legs until her toes curled inside her half-boots. It was like she was electrified, with sparks shooting through her body and out her fingers and toes. Despite all these incredible feelings, she reveled in the fact his lips were soft, yet firm. And that he was incredibly gentle, despite everything they’d just gone through. Lord, but she never wanted this to end.

Yule broke the kiss and glared down at her. “What the hell have you done?”

*

He’d known, aswell as he knew his own name or the fact that the sun rose in the East each morning, he should ignore Penelope’s taunts. She wanted him to chase her, wanted him to catch her and kiss her. She’d admitted as much earlier. But he wasn’t going to give into her childish ploys. Or so he’d thought until she’d stuck her tongue out at him. Why that action, so reminiscent of their childhood, would enflame him, he didn’t know. However, the sight of her pink tongue mocked him in a way too visceral to be ignored. Before he could think to stop himself, he was after her.

The chase was exhilarating—as excited as a wolf must feel when hunting an extremely cunning rabbit. His heart pounded in his chest, his mind fully engaged in countering her every strategy, his arousal making his member stiffen alarmingly. Fixated on Penelope, Yule heard nothing save his own ragged breathing and her squeals of excitement, each one making his cock harder. When she put the tree stump between them, he began to feint to the left in an effort to draw her toward the right, where he could finally grab her and end this madness.

Instead, she turned to run up the pathway between the oaks and tripped.

Without conscious thought, he bounded forward before she had even made it halfway to the ground, seized her about her waist and jerked her upright, then spun her around, ready to scold her like the willful child she was. When he gazed down into her beautiful face, however, all thought of reproaching her vanished. All he could do was look at her loveliness, her bright blue eyes with the eyebrows swooping upward like startled birds, the dusting of charming freckles over her nose, the enticing pink Cupid’s bow of her lips and realize that what he wanted to do was kiss her senseless.

Before he could decide if he would in fact indulge himself in that particular lunacy, she struggled upward, slipped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his. The explosion of heat to his groin was instantaneous, and Yule froze, hoping against hope he didn’t spill himself there and then. The unexpected rush of lust he felt for her made him pause, unable to decide if he should deepen the kiss or end it immediately before his baser instincts took over in front of the entire company of guests.

Laughter and the sound of clapping filtered into Yule’s mind, clearing it immediately. Very carefully, he broke the kiss and put Penelope back on her feet. “What the hell have you done?”

He spoke as much to himself as to her, although the look of immense satisfaction on her face told him she knew very well what she’d just done.

“I’d say I won the game.” She gazed up at him, triumph in every line of her face.

“That’s an understatement.” Yule glanced around as the rest of the company continued to laugh and chatter around them. He took her arm, to escort her off the playing field, then paused, looking back through the lines of guests awaiting their turn at play, which included Penelope’s sister and his cousins Tom and Julius. God, but he was going to get a ribbing for this. “Let’s go.”

As he passed along the lines, heading them back toward the waggonette that would return them to the house, Fritz hurried over to him. “Are you all right, Miss Penelope?”

“I am fine, Mr. Kastner.” She beamed at him and Yule felt a flicker of jealousy flair.

“I’m taking her back to the house, however—” He glared at Penelope when she looked about to protest. “—just to make certain she didn’t turn her ankle.”

“Very prudent, Yule.” His friend nodded. “I’ll instruct the driver to take you there directly.” Fritz fell in step beside them. “So who won the wager?”

Yule shot a look at Penelope, who smothered a smile.