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Authors: Rachel Van Dyken,Kristin Vayden,Nadine Millard

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BOOK: A Christmas Seduction
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Yet, as soon as he finished, he dismissed her.

Miserable man.

For a moment, she wondered if something had changed… but as soon as the thought formed in her mind, she was given her answer.

And his back.

A zebra cannot change its stripes, and the spawn of Satan will never be an angel of light.

Ever.

She’d best remember that.

“Did you happen to see any other brothers?” Louisa asked.

“Yes, there were two of them. Lucas was studying Meredith and the next one… Jack, he was watching his brother.”

“Sara, we mustn’t use their Christian names,” Meredith scolded.

“I am not…” She held up a finger, “… calling them Lord Ashbury, or Mr. Mayford… heavens.”

“Lord only knows what they’ll do with that kind of ego elevation.”

“And besides, they are Lucas, Hugh, and Jack to us! We’ve seen them in short pants and with bloody noses—”

“I get the picture… but
we
are ladies. They might be savage and uncouth natives, but we are not. We will address them as is proper because
we
are proper… they are simply beneficiaries of our manners.” Meredith folded her hands on her lap.

“You… are far too uptight,” Louisa sighed. “I’m going to bed. Can you imagine that they gave us all separate rooms? I don’t know whether to be thankful or afraid…”

“I know.”

“I’m heading to bed too. Make sure you lock your doors, ladies!” Sara called out as she walked to the door.

“And put a chair in front just for good measure,” Louisa added.

“Agreed,” Meredith replied as she watched her sisters leave.

Yet, as the hours wore on, sleep was not forthcoming. As she tossed the covers aside, she grumbled and stood, curling her toes as the cool air assaulted her feet. Her stomach growled, and her gaze shot to the door.

Dare she?

At the Wingham House?

Well, it wasn’t as if she didn’t know every inch of the estate…

Surely she could make it to the kitchens and back without incident.

It was the middle of the night, everyone else must be asleep.

As if her stomach agreed with her logic, it rumbled once more.

Nodding once, she glanced about for her coverlet. After slipping it on and tying the sash, she slowly opened the door. Candlelight burned low in the hall, offering enough light for her to see, but only just. Silently, she slipped into the hall and started toward the main staircase, but paused.

She should take the servants stairs. That would lessen the chance of being seen.

She rolled her eyes at her own dramatics as she started down the lesser-known staircase. Who exactly was going to see her? The house was completely silent, not even a creak. She meandered around several curves and came upon the large wooden door that led to the kitchen. Pushing it open, the scent of rising bread and pheasant from last night’s meal welcomed her. A few low burning candles remained lit, and she glanced about the efficient space.

A throat cleared.

Spinning, she searched the darkness for the source of the sound.

“Damn,” she whispered, as her eyes narrowed toward a dark figure sitting at a table shadowed enough for her to miss upon entrance.

“Such language for a lady? And here my mother has assured me that you hoydens had matured.” He tsked his tongue.

“Good evening, Satan.”

“Ah, pet names? My heart is warm with the thought of it, hag.” He stood and walked toward her. Even in the darkness, Lucas, the Earl of Ashbury was devastatingly distracting. His cravat was missing from his crisp shirt, and he wore no jacket. The candlelight created a delightful silhouette of his muscular legs in his tight breeches, which somehow accented his tall stature and broad shoulders.

Meredith couldn’t help but swallow and take a step back, even as she scolded herself for doing so.

“Retreating?” He shook his head. “I’m disappointed.”

Meredith straightened her shoulders. “Not retreating. Simply taking a step back away from the stench.”

He laid a hand over his heart.”Now I’m wounded.”

“If only.”

Pausing in his approach, he tilted his head slightly. “You know, if I didn’t find you so irritating I might compliment your verbal sparring.”

“A backhanded compliment? You must be getting soft in your old age.” She turned to walk away, ignoring the protesting clamp of her stomach.

A warm hand grasped her elbow, sending shivers of awareness up her spine. Cautiously she turned.

Candlelight illuminated the deep hue of his eyes, making them almost black. His skin was shadowed, making the crisp white of his shirt seem almost otherworldly. The smirk on his face faded slightly as she met his gaze, finding that she was unable to glance away.

His grip tightened slightly, and he pulled her near. Her body betrayed her as she swayed closer, unable to escape the invitation in his eyes.

Curiosity burned in his gaze as his hand released her elbow and traced up her arm till his fingers caressed the line of her jaw. In the deep recesses of her mind she noted he wore no gloves, making the touch skin on skin.

Intimate, seductive, and creating the most feverish sensation breaking out across her flesh.

“Soft…” he whispered. “I simply didn’t expect…” Then as soon as the attraction flared in his eyes, it was silenced. “So… seduction your weakness?” Roughly he pulled her up against his body.

The abrupt movement broke the spell he had woven, and violently she pressed against his chest, ignoring the warmth he radiated. “If that is how you seduce women, it’s not a wonder you’re still unmarried at such an… advanced age.” She broke free from his gasp.

“That sounds like a challenge.” Lucas grinned, his posture once again completely relaxed.

“A challenge assumes the participant has a fighting chance. You, sir… do not.” She shook her head, straightened her shoulders, and placed her hand on the latch.

“You’re not as immune to my charm as you pretend to be,” his sultry whisper chased his hot breath across her neck.

“You’re not as charming as you think,” she retorted.

Without warning, he spun her around, pressed her against the door, and leaned in.

Meredith glared, willing her body to not respond to his heat, his attempt at proving some point.

“Challenge accepted,” he whispered. His mouth was hot against hers, nipping and caressing, ravaging and stealing her affection without permission.

She willed her eyes to stay open, but they fluttered closed.

Pressing her hands against his chest, she tried to push him away but found that she rather liked the hard plane of his body against her palms.

As she tried to pull away from the kiss, he simply pursued her mouth, making a delightful game that threatened to take down her defenses. Yet when his hand reached around and traced up her belly, higher than he ought, she found her resolve and bit his lip, pulling away.

“No,” she asserted, even as she could feel the sweet ache of her swollen lips.

“Oh Meredith…” He leaned forward, holding her gaze. “It’s only a matter of time…” With that, he gave a nod, turned and disappeared into the shadows of the kitchen. A moment later a door shut softly, letting her know she was alone.

The relief of solitude washed over her and on trembling legs, she slid down the door and sat on the cold stone floor of the kitchen. Her mind spun. Had that truly just happened?

Had Lucas kissed her?

Had she let him?

But the most telling question of all…

Did she like it?

That was one question she refused to answer.

 

CHAPTER FOUR

 

L
UCAS CALLED HIMSELF TEN
kinds of fool as he took the stairs two at a time. Bloody hell, what had he been thinking? Kissing a hag? True, she was beautiful, and strong in a way that few women of the
ton
would dare to express, but to kiss her?

He shivered.

But it wasn’t with aversion; rather, it was a response of desire — by simply thinking her name.

Damn and blast! This could not be!

Yet, as he remembered how she’d crept into the kitchen, he had thought she was a fae, with the teasing temptation that was her unbound hair, the way her robe was tucked at her waist, showing off the curve of her figure. As he drank in the beautiful view, he’d been shocked to realize it was Meredith! Steeling himself against her beauty, he had resorted to insults and banter, yet, as always, she didn’t back down, rather met him like a duel.

And as it had in the past, he’d expected for that to irritate him… yet it did the opposite. Fire danced in her eyes, the defiant tilt of her chin only gave him a tempting view of her neck, and the graceful slope to her shoulders. It was arousing and frustrating all at once.

And while he foundered, trying to find solid ground upon which to stand, he had made the most asinine challenge.

Seduce Meredith.

All of his senses must have taken flight! If it were any other woman, he could seduce her in his sleep, yet… with Meredith he knew that would not be the case.

Rather, it was a dangerous endeavor… for them both.

Because when he’d kissed her, what had started out as something to prove, had turned into a burning passion that still smoldered within him. Seducing her would be simple. The difficulty would come from trying to not be seduced in return.

Because another kiss like that could seal his bachelor fate. Especially if discovered.

His mother would be all too happy to marry him off to a hag… yet, as bitter and horrific as the idea had sounded even a mere day before, it wasn’t nearly as offensive now. Waking up with Meredith in his bed? He was painfully aware of how delightful that could be… yet, what insurance did he have that the war they waged would end with a marriage contract?

With his luck he’d not wake up from their wedding night.

Or worse, wake up missing specific parts of his anatomy.

It was a quandary.

Because he had accepted the challenge… and as much as his head said it was idiotic, an invitation to disaster — he rather liked the idea of seducing the hag that had transformed into the fairy.

Now all he had to do was find his own magic.

He paused mid-step.

Had he actually thought such words?

Bloody hell, the woman was already corrupting his mind!

Yet, as he considered the kiss… what a tempting corruption it was!

Resolve forming in his mind, he entered his room, lay on his bed, and fell into a sleep haunted by the one woman he swore he’d never, ever consider.

Perhaps hell really could freeze over.

 

 

A
T BREAKFAST,
L
UCAS KEPT
an eye on the door; waiting. His torture of the hags for all those years had provided some astoundingly helpful information.

For example, the Bright sisters did not sleep in.

Of course, that might be because the one time they had, they’d awoken to worms crawling on their floor, with a nice smattering of dirt for effect. When they came downstairs, huffing and indignant, Hugh had simply smirked and reminded them that “the early bird gets the worm”.

They weren’t amused.

Yet, to this day, he and his brothers still found the tale hilarious.

So, knowing that Meredith wasn’t one to take a late breakfast, he rose early and presently awaited her arrival. Just as it was when the war raged… a new war had begun, and there would be no quarter given.

Yet if that kiss were any indication, there would be no loser in this fight… only a very enticing prize.

He lifted a square of toast and bit into the crisp bread, following that bite with one of salty bacon. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement. Meredith strode confidently into the breakfast room, but when her gaze caught his, she froze.

Her eyes narrowed.

Her shoulders straightened.

“Good morning, love. How was your night?” He lifted his teacup in a toasting gesture and took a sip, glorying in the fire that danced in her eyes, a flash of anger.

“Disruptive and assaulting,” she shot back, and with more caution, approached the sideboard. She began filling her plate with bacon, eggs, beans and sausage. The Bright sisters were never ones to miss a meal, yet it was clear their figures never suffered.

And as he watched her butter a square of toast, he decided he rather liked that she ate with appreciation.

As she finished preparing her plate, she glanced about the room as if searching for a different place to sit rather than at the table with him.

“There’s always the floor,” he commented, smirking.

“Or I can simply stab you with my fork if you get any ideas,” she snapped, choosing a chair on the opposite end of the table.

“I have a scar from the last time you tried that.”

“I didn’t try. I succeeded. And you were trying to steal my bacon.”

“I forgot… never get between a hag and her prey.”

“Never get between a lady and her breakfast.”

He held up his hand, palm inward, displaying the three tine scars as if to prove her point.

“Nice to know you’re capable of learning something in your old age.”

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