The Kissing Bough (6 page)
“A more prudent man might have taken the time to pull on a pair of boots,” she said adoringly.
“You don’t want a more prudent man, do you?” he asked. “If we’re speaking of prudence, a more prudent
woman
would not stand under a kissing bough on Christmas night, tempting someone to steal a kiss.”
“You were there? Why didn’t you…”
“I wanted nothing more than to kiss you, my love, but I was drunk, angry that my brother seemed to have laid claim to you with your mother’s open encouragement, and not certain that if I kissed you under those circumstances I could control myself. Better to let you go, safe and still chaste, back to bed.”
It was indication of how right James was in his assessment of her unconventional character that the thought of being
unchaste
stirred her curiosity rather than frightened her.
As if he’d read her thoughts, he said, “We’ll be married as soon as the banns can be read and then we’ll set off for a long honeymoon trip.”
“Where?”
“Anywhere you choose.”
They discussed possible destinations all the way back to the house, where they parted, with a kiss, before going to their separate rooms to change from their snow-wet garments.
Lucinda was just lacing herself into dry half-boots when her mother knocked on the door.
“Lucinda, Edward and your father wish to see you in the drawing room.”
She’d have liked a little more time, but procrastination wouldn’t make this any easier. Strengthened by the knowledge that whatever her parents and Edward’s reactions might be, she could rely on James’ love, she stood and accompanied her mother.
In the drawing room, Edward stood to one side while her father greeted her with a smile. “My dear, I am very happy for you. Edward will make you a fine husband.”
Lucinda blinked. She hadn’t expected this. “Edward hasn’t asked me to marry him, papa.”
“A formality, which I shall rectify at once,” Edward said.
“Edward, don’t.” Lucinda held up her hand to cut him off. “I can’t…”
The drawing room door swung open and James sauntered in. “I’m afraid you’re too late, Edward. Lucinda has just done me the honor of agreeing to be my wife.”
“But…But…” Edward stuttered, for once speechless. He drew a deep breath and tried again. “I have just spent an hour and a half discussing marriage settlements with Lucinda’s father before asking for his permission to wed her.”
“And I have spent the time with Lucinda, convincing her to marry
me
.” He strolled to Lucinda’s side, taking her hand and edging her toward the dining room door. “Really, brother, it’s time you took a lesson. He who dares is far more likely to win than he who rigidly follows the rules.”
Behind her, Lucinda’s mother made little mewling noises. Her father shoved his hands in his pockets and said, “Well! Well! I really don’t know what…”
James looked at him. “I, too, am prepared to discuss marriage settlements with you, sir. And to ask your permission if that will reconcile you to our marriage,” James said to her father. “But I must point out, permission or no, I
will
marry your daughter as soon as it can be arranged.”
“Lucinda,” her mother gasped. “Have you agreed to this?”
“I have, Mama.” She turned and looked into the face of the man she loved. “I have never wanted anything more. And as James says, we will marry, with or without your blessing.”
With chilling politeness Edward said. “Since I am utterly
de trop,
I will leave you to your deliberations. Sir, madam, Lucinda. Farewell. I intend to travel immediately to London. Please make my apologies to my mother’s guests at dinner. I wish you no harm, James, but I would prefer not to share a house with you at the moment.”
He walked out, his gait stiff, offended dignity radiating from the straight line of his spine.
Lucinda released her tension on a long gust of air.
“I’m sorry, Mama. I may not have behaved well, but…”
“It comes as no surprise to me,” her mother said. “You have always had a willful streak that no amount of training has completely overcome. And your interest in Mr. Lymon has been apparent.” She turned to her husband. “We need to find the countess and see how this situation might best be handled.”
They left the room and James took Lucinda in his arms. “That went better than it might have.”
“Indeed,” Lucinda replied. “Everything is settled happily.”
“Not quite,” James said with a chuckle. “There is one very important thing left to do.”
“Oh,” she asked.
He pointed upwards to where the kissing bough still hung in the doorway above them. ”This,” he said, and complied with tradition with pleasing thoroughness.
Also available from Totally Bound Publishing:
Send Me an Angel
Alysha Ellis
Excerpt
Chapter One
Ellie stared down at her porch, speechless with fear and outrage. If this was her friends’ idea of a joke thirtieth birthday present, heads were going to roll—right after she called the cops to arrest the naked man asleep outside her front door.
“Hey! You! Pervert! Get the hell away from here!” To make her point a little clearer, she gave him a nudge—okay, might as well be honest and call it a kick—in the ribs.
The man didn’t stir. Ellie’s fear faded, replaced by concern. Maybe he wasn’t a sexual predator and maybe he wasn’t asleep. If he was unconscious, instead of the police, she needed to call an ambulance.
Since she couldn’t see any blood or obvious sign of injury, she squatted down to take a closer look. His chest rose and fell regularly, so she knew he wasn’t dead. His pale golden skin appeared unmarked except for the faint red patch where her foot had slammed into abs that any of her gym junkie male acquaintances would give ten years’ supply of protein powder for. He had to spend a fair bit of time in the gym himself. No one got shoulders like that without lifting a lot of serious weight.
His legs were drawn up, his arms held between them, hands cupping his male parts. Long, golden hair covered his face in a tangled mess.
He looked as if he’d been picked up by a whirlwind and deposited at her door.
Except this wasn’t Kansas and he certainly was no Dorothy.
Ellie leaned closer and put her hand on his muscled shoulder. It was warm and smooth and… She snatched her wayward fingers back.
She should be rendering first aid, not petting him.
He lay on his side, meaning she didn’t need to roll him into the recovery position. His breathing was regular and unrestricted, so there was no need to try to clear his airways. That left keeping him warm and calling for help.
She sighed. Covering that body probably counted as a sin, but leaving him to get chilled would be inexcusable.
She turned to go back inside to get a blanket and her phone. A guttural moan stopped her before she’d taken a single step.
She spun back around. The stranger groaned again—a painful sound wrenched from somewhere deep inside him.
Ellie dropped to her knees. What did the first aid manuals say to do if the patient was conscious? Reassure them? She wasn’t sure he
was
conscious, and she definitely didn’t know what there was to reassure him about, but she had to do something. “Um. Just relax. You’re all right. Nothing to worry about.”
This time the groan came from her. What a stupid thing to say. She had no idea if he was all right or not. He was a stranger, with no apparent belongings and no place to have ID or money secreted about his very naked person. He had good reason to worry.
A shudder rocked his body. Ellie’s heart raced, panic bubbling to the surface. What if he was having a seizure? Or a heart attack? She wished she’d grabbed her phone before she’d opened the door this morning. But living on a small acreage meant she’d forgotten most of the security precautions those in the city took for granted, and when she’d heard the thud on her front veranda, she’d assumed it was a possum or a dog and gone, unconcerned and unsuspicious, to chase it away. Clearly
that
had been a mistake.
There were no neighbors within shouting distance, no one to help her. Something had to be done and at the moment
she
was the only person there. The man was too well built for her to move on her own, and if she tried, she could do more damage. She had to go inside to get her phone. It would only take a few seconds.
She opened her mouth to tell him she’d be back, but snapped it shut again when he rolled onto his stomach, braced his arms underneath himself, and pushed onto all fours.
He held himself there, his head hanging down, his bare back glistening with sweat. A few stray leaves clung to the skin, but Ellie barely spared them a glance.
She must be the most horrible, heartless woman in the world, because here was this poor man, sick or injured, and was she rushing to his assistance? No, she was staring at one of the finest arses she had ever had the privilege to see.
Fortunately he didn’t seem to require her assistance. While she’d been berating herself, he’d raised himself onto one knee. She couldn’t help but notice his penis, which hung thick and long between his corded thighs.
The powerful shoulders and thighs flexed and strained and he pushed himself to his feet.
Ellie’s breath caught in her lungs. Her entire attention was riveted on the man in front of her. She’d get to the bottom of this mystery…later. If her friends had set her up, someone would die, but not right now. Right now she was having trouble even thinking.
The stranger raised his head and ran his fingers through his hair, dragging it back from his face. Celestial blue eyes looked straight into hers. Somewhere in the distance, Ellie heard the sound of harps being gently stroked. A sensation of absolute peace, absolute rightness overwhelmed her.
Control-freak Ellie, who needed everything and everyone to be slotted into the right place and stay there, fell right into those cerulean pools and forgot thirty years of caution, prudence and control.
He smiled and her knees sagged. Her back slid down the doorjamb as she dropped to the floor.
He bent over her, his hand settling on her head. Nothing had ever felt so right.
“Are you hurt?”
His voice was musical but somehow alien. The words came out slowly and individually, as if each one were being formed after a moment’s thought. It was as if English were not his native language, yet he had no trace of an accent.
Ellie shook her head dazedly. “You’re the one who was hurt.”
She stopped, swallowed hard and tried to regain control. “Who are you? Where have you come from, and what on earth are you doing, naked, on my doorstep?”
He looked around him then turned those amazing eyes back to Ellie. “On Earth. Yes, I am on Earth.”
Ellie had staggered to her feet but the impact of his gaze made her wobble. Instantly his arms were around her. His naked body brushed against her. All that skin. All that heat. The bulge at his groin pushed into the curve of her stomach. She leaned into it. Wriggled once. Rocked against it. Felt it harden and grow.
The stranger’s arms dropped and he jumped back.
Ellie’s face flamed. What was wrong with her this morning? She kept doing things she’d never normally do.
“I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorr…” Her apology faltered. The man’s eyes were wide, the whites clearly showing. He looked from her, then into the space he’d created between them then back at Ellie
“What is it doing? How do I stop it?” Panic sharpened his formerly mellifluous tones. He pointed. “How big is it going to get?”
Ellie looked down. His penis, impressive even at rest, was swelling and growing. It was an awe-inspiring sight, but he didn’t seem to appreciate it.
He pulled his hands up, well away from his groin. His face was pale and tense. “Please, what’s happening to me?”
The question snapped Ellie’s gaze upwards. This wasn’t a joke. The man was truly bewildered, and, if her judgment was correct, frightened. How could a fully grown man be afraid of his own equipment? Had he lived his whole life in a monastery?
There was only one way to find the answers. She assumed her best don’t-mess-with-me look. The Ellie glare had cowed everyone who’d ever been subjected to it.
In a voice that could make grown men tremble, she attacked. “I want an explanation. Now.”
If he heard her, he didn’t show it. His eyes remained transfixed by his penis. Ellie lifted a hand and slapped him on the side of his head. Not hard. But enough to make him look at her.
“You. Pay attention. I want to know who you are, why you’re here and what the hell is wrong with you.”
He shook his head. “Not Hell.”
“What?” Was it too much to hope for a rational response? “Focus.” She spoke very slowly and extra loud. “What are you doing here?”
His brow furrowed, and he appeared to concentrate. The effort seemed to divert the blood flow away from his penis. As the potential hard-on subsided, the worry left his face and his attention returned to Ellie. “I fell.”
“Fell? Fell from where?” She gazed up at the empty sky. “And why does it involve being naked?”
About the Author
Alysha Ellis lives in Australia and when she isn’t busy drinking champagne, eating chocolate and letting her inner tart run free, she writes erotic comedy. Her favorite quote comes from Mae West… A hard man is good to find. Who could argue with that? Alysha tries very hard to be bad, because bad girls have all the fun.
Email:
[email protected]
Alysha loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at
http://www.totallybound.com
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