Read Her Christmas Pleasure for Free Online Page B

talk.”
    “There’s nothing to discuss.”
    “Oh, but I believe there is.” She approached the chair. He could feel her presence draw closer, smell her distinctive scent even more strongly, and he knew she stood directly behind him. Was sure if he reached back he would touch her. She waited by thechair, her hands most likely clutching the edge nervously.
    He’d known her long enough to understand her habits, how she moved and what she did. He knew everything about her.
    And he still wanted her. He loved her even, if he could call his near obsession with her that.
    “I wanted to apologize for my earlier behavior,” she said after he refused to utter a word.
    “Apology accepted.”
    “I didn’t let you say a word, and I was rude.” Her hands smoothed across the back of the chair. Hell, he swore the tips of her fingers edged along his hair, touching him. “I’m just so incredibly confused, Damien.”
    “By what?”
    “By you.” She remained silent for a few minutes too long and he grew impatient.
    “What happened last evening,” he finally said in a low growl, “what happened between us should’ve never… I should’ve never thrust myself upon you in the hall. Or kissed you beneath the mistletoe in front of your family. It wasn’t seemly.”
    “I don’t give a hang what they saw. Surely you must know this.”
    “You don’t mean it.”
    “I do.” She rounded the chair so she stood before him, resplendent in a thin, cream-colored dressing gown. The fire set a fiery glow along her every curve and dip, and the light of the flames illuminated her from within. He could practically see through the fabric of the robe and nightgown beneath it. The shapely length of her legs, the womanly curve of her hips.
    His mouth went dry at the sight.
    “I’m a fool,” she whispered. “To never see what was so plainly staring me in the face.”
    “What do you mean?” He took offense at the word plainly. He should take offense that she hadn’t noticed him, ever. What sort of man was he that he moved through her life like a ghost she didn’t even see until it was almost too late?
    “You.” She wrung her hands together. Facing him, admitting such a thing, took a lot for her to do so. “Will you forgive me?”
    He stared at her, incredulous. What did he have to forgive her for? Not noticing him? Not realizing he’d pined after her for so many years he didn’t know what it was like not wanting her? He could remain angry and not offer his forgiveness. Hold on to the emotion, allow it to fester and grow within him. It might make his leaving that much easier.
    But life was too short to be so bitter.
    “What do you need forgiveness for, Celia?”
    “Not seeing, not realizing what we shared. And how I wish I’d said something sooner, for now you’re moving away. You’re going to go gallivanting around the world and experience new adventures while I sit at home.”
    “I wouldn’t call my endeavors gallivanting.”
    Her brows rose. “Oh, really?” She took one step closer toward him, casting herself in shadow. Hauntingly beautiful as her temper rose and her hands clenched into fists at her sides. Lord, she was gorgeous when she was upset. “You’re a handsome bachelor, Damien, with no ties. You could do whatever you want and see whatever you want. Bewith—” she choked on the words, “—whomever you want. I envy your freedom.”
    She envied him? Well, wasn’t that rich? “You don’t know what you speak of.”
    “Oh, but I do!” A flurry of pale silk flew out behind her as she rushed toward him. She knelt before him like an adoring mistress, her delicate hands clutching his suddenly trembling knees. She touched him with such ease, implored him with a beseeching expression. “I have always envied you, Damien. You’re kind, loyal and true, and it’s so ingrained in you. You never seem to question your actions. You just…do. You decide you’re leaving England, so you put forth the plan. I could never