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“Yes.” He caught her arm again as she lost her balance, her heel missing the right spot, then released it just as quickly. This path was so uneven. She kept almost tripping.
Emmett folded his arms and they fell into step again on the path.
“But you still didn’t kiss me?” She’d been told rakes were immoral men who took what they wanted. But Emmett wasn’t like that.
“Because I decided if you wanted to kiss me, you would. And I didn’t want to play a game with you anymore.”
Wait? What?She liked playing with him. She liked their snippy conversations and his teasing and his smile. She likedhima lot.
“No more games?” she replied as lightly as she dared. “What would we be without games?”
“A sham engagement that ends next week,” he said, and she almost shook at his bleak tone.
His expression was no better when she risked a sideways glance at him. Serious where he was usually mocking. He looked… sad.
“A week for you to do something so unforgivable that I break our engagement,” she said, trying to ease him into levity.
“Shall I murder a beloved pet, or are you going to catch me kissing a housemaid?” He caught her intention, but his humor was darker than usual.
No. Her whole body revolted at the thought. No. He wasn’t going to kiss anyone but her. If he even wanted to kiss her anymore?
“Emmett.” She stopped.
“Gina?” He tilted his head and pulled his greatcoat closer around him.
She had no idea what she would say. Could she just come right out, and ask him to kiss her? He’d say no. That would break their bargain. But she needed to know if he wanted to.
The sunlight filtered through the trees, highlighting his right eyebrow, the place on his cheek where his dimple was when he smiled, and a third of his lush red-pink lips.
What would it feel like to kiss him? Would his lips be demanding, or soft, or something else?
She’d never kissed any man. But this man… she wanted to.
He was looking up, a long-suffering expression on his face. “Damnit. As if I need more temptation.”
She followed his gaze. Mistletoe. The tree they were standing underneath was laden with mistletoe. Balls of vibrant green with milky white berries, the leaves at odd angles like the plant was trying to grow in a dozen different directions and couldn’t make up its mind.
Rather like her. She wanted Emmett. She wanted freedom. She wanted their faux engagement to both last forever and for it to be over and truthful and resolved, whatever that meant.
She looked back at him, his blue eyes brighter than the winter sky. He was a summer’s day all year long. A temptation, he’d said. He still wanted to kiss her.
“Tempt me.”
His eyebrows shot up and his gaze snapped to hers. “Is that what you want?”
“Yes.” She was brave. He’d been devastatingly honest with her when he’d told her he’d been tempted. She could tell him the truth in her heart, so far as she understood it herself. “I’m curious. I don’t want to go my whole life without having kissed…”You. “A man.”
“How have you managed to reach almost one-and-twenty without having been kissed?”
“As you’ve seen, I’m very good at resisting temptation.” Or she had been, until him. She’d never felt the instantaneous desire Sophie talked about, or admired an unknown man’s body with anything other than academic interest, like Lucasta. She didn’t think she could casually take a man to her bed like Miss Chilson had. It was as though knowing him so well, being with him every day, had unlocked something inside her. The intimacy of familiarity had meant physical intimacy seemed perfectly logical, instead of an intrusion. That sounded insane though, so she didn’t say it.
He shook his head in confusion. “Are you toying with me?” And there was a bite to his words, like the cold seeping in through her gloves and chilling her fingers.
No. Maybe. She wasn’t sure. But she did know for certain that if this Christmas and her birthday passed without her kissing him, and more, she would mourn it. Because there might never be a man as patient and handsome—and yes infuriating—as Emmett Stanton. No man could make her heart race like he did. And definitely not one who wanted to kiss her.
“I want you to tempt me.”
He capitulated with a wary shake of the head and caught her hands in his, slowly pulling her closer until her body was almost flush with his. There were so many layers of clothing between them, his greatcoat, her pelisse, bonnet and hat, scarfs and gloves. It was purely imaginary that she could feel the heat of him. But awareness smoothed over her skin.
