Caroline gasped as she was enveloped into Snowdon’s embrace, his strong arms holding her upright against the momentum that would have sent her tumbling to the floor.
“What the hell are you doing?” he asked in a growl. His icy blue eyes were locked on her face, his expression darkening when she didn’t respond.
How could she respond? Caroline was overwhelmed by the presence of him, the intense maleness of his body next to hers. He’d taken his jacket off, so she could feel the hard planes of muscle in his arms and his chest. It was shocking how her curves melted against him, filling in the tiniest spaces, molding her body to his. Only the thin layer of her gown and the fabric of his shirt separated them, and that wasn’t nearly enough for her sanity. She inhaled and smelled his scent: apples and woodsmoke and something musky and dark underneath the rest. She’d never smelled anything quite like it, and she was conscious of a desire to put her face closer, to breathe in deeply and let the aroma wash over her, to revel in the novelty and the allure of it.
“Caroline, you shouldn’t be here,” he said in a softer tone.
“I know,” she breathed, dizzy from the heat rising off his body. A man made of snow? Not now. He seemed to hold a banked fire inside. “But I saw you, and—”
Before she could go on, they heard heavier footsteps out in the hall. Caroline froze. To be caught in a man’s room would mean social ruin, no matter her reasons for pursuing him there.
Snowdon obviously realized it too. He relocked the door and then held a finger to his lips. She nodded, already glancing around the room in case she needed to hide somewhere.
Nothing presented itself. There was no closet, only a tall clothespress that held shelves inside, making it impossible for her to fit in. Behind the door? That would work only if no one stepped all the way in.
The doorknob began to turn slightly.
Snowdon’s eyes narrowed and his mouth was set in a thin line. He lowered his head to her ear and breathed, “Under the bed.”
She moved as fast as she dared to the large four-poster bed. She flipped up the bedspread and dropped to her knees. Peering underneath, she saw that the floor was perfectly clean (Maggie would need to be given a raise in wages at the New Year), and that Snowdon’s traveling cases had been slid under the bed on the far side, making it less likely a person would see her if they looked from that angle. She quickly flattened herself out and rolled into the dark space.
She took a careful breath, but then gasped as Snowdon followed her, pulling the bedspread back into place as he went. His long form lay next to hers, face-to-face.
“What are you doing? You don’t have to hide, it’s your room—”
“Hush,” he ordered, his voice low, the command clear. “If you’re seen, it would be bad.”
She snapped her mouth shut, wondering what she’d got herself into. She heard a scraping sound, as if from a key that didn’t quite fit the lock. Snowdon barely seemed to breathe, he was listening so intently. It took Caroline a moment to realize he’d put an arm around her shoulders in a protective embrace.
Then the door swung open. She shook as footsteps reverberated along the floorboards. Quiet as the person was trying to be, the sounds felt like thunder to Caroline.
The person began walking around the room. She heard the rustle of items being moved on the small desk, and of clothing being lifted, rifled, and dropped back down.
Ugh, how long did they intend to take? Her body was uncomfortably squashed into the space, her muscles protesting the position. The side of her head was pressed to the floor. Snowdon noticed her discomfort and shook his head once, warning her against any movement that could give them away. She nodded. She certainly didn’t want to get caught in such an embarrassing situation.
She strained her ears, wondering what was happening. A maid might come into a room to straighten up or lay the fire. But she’d never unlock a door to do so! And these were not the innocent sounds of a servant about their daily chores. The furtiveness and the frustration was altogether different.
Someone was searching his room.
Caroline bit her lip, thinking hard. Why would someone search his room? Had she not been the only person to see him smuggle something away from its rightful place? Was Snowdon some sort of imposter? And why did he smell so good?
She heard the doors of the clothespress being opened, and the desk drawers, one by one. The person began to mutter, and Caroline was now certain it was a man. She looked at Snowdon’s face, and saw no anger, just concentration, almost as if he expected this.
Then bedspread flipped up on the far side, and someone yanked out the traveling case, the edges scraping loudly as it went. Caroline’s heart heaved against her ribs, and Snowdon pulled her closer, tucking her head into his chest.
“Still,” he murmured, his breath hot against her ear. From the way he inhaled, he seemed like he wanted to say something else, but he kept silent. She felt his hand cupping the back of her head, as if he could shield her from sight that way.
The searcher popped open the traveling case and muttered a low curse, evidently because it was empty. The second case was yanked out too, with the same result. Then both were shoved back underneath. The corner of one struck the small of Caroline’s back, and she bit her lip to muffle her startled yelp of pain. Luckily, the noise of the case scraping the floor seemed to cover her small sound. Snowdon was staring hard at the gap between the fabric and the floor.
The bed ropes sagged as whoever it was sat down heavily on the corner of the mattress. “Nothing,” a voice muttered. “God damn.”
There was a distant sound from somewhere else in the house. The man got up and moved swiftly to the door, no longer bothering to be quiet. He paused, then walked out, pulling the door shut again. Footsteps stomped away down the corridor toward the stairs.
Caroline exhaled, starting to shift her limbs.
“Wait,” Snowdon whispered. “Let’s be sure he’s not coming back.”
“Why would he come back?” she hissed, her anger taking over her fear.
“Later.”
“I demand to know what—”
He silenced her with a kiss.
His lips slid against hers, and she opened her mouth in a gasp. Caroline’s heartbeat trebled as heat surged through her, and she pressed her mouth to his.
He made a sound low in his throat, something guttural and primitive and wildly arousing. He pulled her even closer, his mouth hot on hers, tasting her with abandon. The icy Lord Snowdon never gave a hint that such a heat raged inside him, and yet now Caroline was being seared by it, and loving it.
When his teeth tugged at her lower lip, she moaned at the unexpected jolt through her body. Heat began to pool in her belly, and she curved her hand around his neck, encouraging him to continue.
He broke the kiss and pulled away to look at her. Fingers of one hand threaded through her hair, and with the other hand, he ran his thumb along her jaw, then paused at the point of her throat where her pulse thrummed, revealing just how excited she was. He smiled slowly, and kissed her again. This time, his lips brushed against hers as gently as a snowfall, and she closed her eyes, reveling in the sensations coursing through her.
She was being kissed so sweetly, no mistletoe needed.
And the man kissing her was a stranger with more secrets than she could imagine.
Caroline’s eyes flew open, and she put the flat of her hand against his chest, pushing into him.
He broke the kiss immediately, his eyes dark as he took in her new expression.
“I don’t think anyone is coming back,” she said.
“Probably not.” Abruptly, he rolled out from under the bed and flipped up the bedcovers once more. He stood and then unexpectedly reached down to offer a hand to help her out. Caroline took it and scrambled up to her feet.
She immediately glanced in the mirror. She was a mess. Her hair was falling out of its knot and her gown was wrinkled, with little snags in the top skirt where the rough floorboards caught at the fabric. “Oh, what am I going to do if anyone sees me?”
“I’ll look out, and when the hallway is empty, you’ll go to your room. You can change and fix your hair then. It’s three doors down, you’ll make it.”
“You are well acquainted with the layout of the house, sir,” she said, glaring at him in the mirror.
“I notice things,” he said shortly.
“I notice things too. Such as you taking something out of my parents’ room.”
His jaw tightened. He swallowed hard, but then said, “You’re mistaken.”
“Oh, am I? How about the person who just searched your room? Was he looking for the same thing?”
“I doubt it,” Snowdon said, a wry, bitter smile pulling at one side of his mouth.
“And why did you hide under the bed as well? No one would think it odd for you to be in your room. You just had to hide me.” She was getting more upset by the second, partly because he remained so calm.
“I had my reasons. And your reputation is preserved, so what do you care?”
“I care because it’s Christmas and everything is getting so strange! But I’m glad I didn’t get forced into marrying you because we were caught in some compromising position. Now you’re safe. You can continue your pursuit of Estelle,” she added, anger making her petty.
“What?” he asked sharply.
“Estelle. You’re interested in her.”
He looked at Caroline as if she’d grown another head. “Why the hell would you think that?”
“You were talking to her over lunch.”
“How is that significant? I was seated next to her. Talking to a woman over lunch is not the same as kissing one under a bed.”
She protested, “You just wanted to keep me quiet.”
“I wanted to know what you tasted like.”
Oh.
“What do I taste like?” she whispered.
His gaze was hot, lingering on her mouth before flickering up to her eyes. “Like something I shouldn’t have.”
“Would you kiss me again if you had the chance?”
His chest rose and fell sharply, but his expression went icy once more. “Don’t ask me that.”
“I didn’t mean to…” She paused, unsure what she didn’t mean to do. “I just wanted to know…”
“You already know too much,” he said, his eyes a deeper blue than before. “You need to leave this room, Caroline. Now. It’s dangerous for you here.”
“You kissed me,” she said, defensiveness rising in her.
“It was a mistake. Forget it ever happened. Forget everything that just happened.”
He reached for the now-unlocked door, twisted the knob, and wrenched it open. He leaned out. “It’s clear. Go.” He sent her through to the hallway just before he shut it again.
She heard the key twist in the lock, and she stepped back. What had just happened? Had Lord Snowdon really just kissed her? Had she let him? And what would he think of her now?
Wait! She had more immediate problems. Caroline rushed to her own room and shut the door before anyone could see her and notice her disheveled appearance or remark on the fact that she’d just left Snowdon’s room. She was sure the whole house could hear her heartbeat, still thrumming as fast as it had been when she was in his arms. Part of her wasn’t even sure it really happened. It was almost a dream, so sudden and inexplicable. One moment she was pursuing a thief, and the next, she was lost in a cloud of pleasure, only to be abruptly pushed away without warning.
She caught her reflection in her looking glass. Her hair was mussed, her cheeks pink, and her lips shockingly plumped. She looked like…a woman.
Caroline raised a finger to her lips, touching the skin in wonder. His mouth had just been there. A wave of embarrassment rolled over her. What lady asked that of a gentleman? Was that why he stopped and pushed her away?
She hadn’t meant to throw herself at him. All she wanted to know was why he’d taken something from her parents’ room…
Caroline’s eyes narrowed. Had it all been a trick to distract her? Was that what he was warning her to forget about, or else he’d reveal how wantonly she’d behaved?
One thing was certain—something wrong was happening at Hollydell. There were strange tensions in the spiced air, and she decided that she would find out what was going on. More than anything, she felt the need to protect her family from any possible trouble. Snowdon meant trouble. Perhaps Francis meant trouble in his own way. The presence of Timothy Stockan could mean trouble for Estelle, if his intentions were less honorable than they seemed. So Caroline would learn everyone’s secrets…starting with the mysterious, too-perfect Lord Snowdon.