Before he could even close his eyes, Livie shot up from the table and darted toward the entrance hall. He looked at Amelia, who was assessing him, her velvet-brown eyes warm.
“It was kind of you to select a game that Livie would be so excited over—and so good at.”
“I shouldn’t admit it, but my motives aren’t quite as noble as that. I was hoping…” He dropped his voice, propping his elbows on the table and leaning forward. “I was hoping I’d find ye first, so that I might steal another kiss.”
She flushed a bonny shade of pink, but instead of demurring at his boldness, she cocked a dark eyebrow at him.
“Oh? Is it customary in Hopsy for the seeker to kiss the hiders when he finds them?”
“Of course,” he replied smoothly. “It’s tradition.”
“Well in that case…”
She pushed back from the table, and they both rose together. As she rounded the corner of the table and strode toward him, he thought for a breathtaking instant that she meant to stop and kiss him right there and then. But when she came alongside him, she only paused to flash him a teasing smile.
“No peeking.”
Reluctantly, he closed his eyes and began to count. Though he heard the swish of her skirts as she exited the room, he imagined he could still detect the soft scent of her rosewater, as if she were close enough to touch. To kiss.
Ever since last night, his wits had been muddled and his blood agitated with the need to kiss Amelia again. Something about her—and this place—made him feel carefree and brazen again, as he once had in his youth. Before all the troubles with his father and the estate.
Perhaps he was simply succumbing to her charm offensive, the cheer of the season melting the ice in his chest just as she and Livie had planned.
But it was more than just the effects of the evergreen boughs on the mantel and the familiar scents of hearty Highland fare drifting from the kitchen. Nay, some instinct told Blair that even if he returned to Edinburgh next week, leaving behind Glenrose and all this Christmas merriment, what grew in his heart for Amelia would never fade away.
The thought unnerved him, for that was exactly what he meant to do—leave. His throat tightened as if a fist clenched around it, even as his gut lurched in rebellion at the thought.
Blair hastily shoved away the looming reality that waited for him. It wasn’t here yet, as Amelia had pointed out. In this moment, he still had time—time to spend with her, at this ancient Highland keep, during this enchanted season. For however long they had, he meant to savor it.
Reaching one hundred, he opened his eyes to an empty room. Despite a decade spent perfecting his frown so that it had become his default expression, Blair felt a foolish grin pulling on his mouth. When was the last time he’d played, just for the sake of it? This was going to be fun.
He made a quick sweep around the dining table, but the furniture in this half of the great hall was spare enough to afford no hiding places. He moved more carefully through the portion that served as the drawing room, bending to peer under low tables and opening the cupboards underneath the sideboard.
The study provided a few more nooks and crannies, but Blair found neither hide nor hair of Amelia and Livie underneath his desk or wedged between the lower bookshelves.
His steps speeding with eagerness, he strode out of the large chamber and toward the stairs. There were plenty of spots to hide amongst all the smaller rooms on the second floor. Though he wanted to draw out the fun of the game, impatience to have Amelia in his arms drove him up the steps two at a time.
The first door he reached was Livie’s schoolroom. The door was ajar, though all was still and quiet inside. A swift scan of the room revealed nothing, but Blair methodically searched, checking under tables and inside cupboard doors.
He was about to give up and head for the next room when his gaze snagged on the damask drapes framing the window overlooking the gravel path leading to the manor’s front doors. The drapes, done in a light blue to keep the room bright and cheery, hung in even folds—except for one slight ripple that didn’t follow the pattern of the rest.
“Hmm.” Blair stalked closer. “I wonder what might be behind here.”
Though muffled by the damask, the excited puff of breath from behind the drapes was unmistakable. Blair grinned.
Abruptly, he yanked the curtains back. Amelia gave a little shriek of surprise as her hiding spot was revealed, followed quickly by a thrilled giggle.
Instead of drawing her out from behind the drapes, though, Blair stepped closer, letting the damask swish back in place around them. Cocooned in soft blue as if they’d been swallowed by the sky, he slowly pulled her into his arms.
Their first kiss had been shocking despite its gentle innocence. Blair had been completely caught off-guard by the intensity of their connection, from little more than a chaste press of their lips.
This time, kissing Amelia felt like coming home. She melted easily against him, her hands coming to rest on the lapels of his coat. She was warm and slight in his arms. Her mouth was soft and sweet as the honey that had garnished their breakfast.
When he found the satin heat of her tongue, he couldn’t help the groan that rose in his throat.
What would it be like if she were his—not just for a few days, but forever?
What if he could kiss her like this every day? Not hiding behind curtains or using the excuse of the mistletoe, but in the morning over breakfast. Or on a
