She jumped to her feet and navigated around the low table. No, she would not think of going to bed with Henry. True, she was already ruined, but she didn’t wish to ruin her family. And she couldn’t trust her heart. The last time she fancied herself in love, she fell with child, and he had abandoned them both.
“Would you like some hot chocolate?” Henry asked, defeating the knight and casting the game piece off to the side of the board. “I asked the kitchen to make some. It should still be hot.”
The fire crackled in the fireplace behind Henry. Tilly clenched her hands, feeling the silk of her dress, trying her best to strike from her mind any thought of the man watching her as if she were prey.
“I don’t believe I’ve ever had hot chocolate.”
Henry picked up the silver pot from the table before him and poured the hot dark liquid in a teacup. A wonderful aroma suddenly filled the room—excellent dark Belgian chocolate.
“It’s perfect for a cold winter evening.”
He reached out to pass her the teacup and nearly hissed as her fingertips brushed against his in a brief, stolen touch.
Tilly assessed the teacup; she loved the intricate floral pattern. It was such a small detail in a large home brimming with extravagant features. She wished for something similar, but it felt so out of reach for her when she had a home full of siblings to care for and Ethan.
Was it wrong to wish for a rich life? Was it sinful?
Was it selfish for a girl who grew up on a sheep farm outside of Dublin, now gracing the stages of Drury Lane in London, to wish for a life that was full of comforts? She knew the answer and refused to accept it because a man never would. Her fellow actors proudly enjoyed what they earned from years of hard work. And Tilly was expected to be quiet, to be patient, to be appreciative of what she was given.
That didn’t stop her from wanting more, no matter what Roger said.
“I’ve lost you,” he said.
Tilly tilted her head. “Hmm?”
“You have the most extraordinary green eyes, and they are often so full of some magical thing. Some light. I can’t explain it. But every now and again, it fades, and it’s as if you are miles away.”
Instead of answering, Tilly sipped the decadent dark liquid. The chocolate was luxurious as it hit her tongue and sank down into her belly, rich and filling. Delicious for sure.
Henry studied her, watching her as if he was both captivated and hungry.
“It’s snowing,” Tilly said as she pressed her hand against the glass doors. The chill bit her palms. “You’re going to miss Christmas,” she said absently.
“Christmas will happen whether I’m here or in London. I won’t miss it.”
He stood and padded over to her. And she tilted her head to get a better look at him as he stood beside her. He smelled of ink and leather. He looked about as undone as she felt standing so close. She preferred him this way most of all.
“Christmas will happen like any other day on the calendar, but it’s who you spend it with that matters. And you’ll be spending it alone.”
Her breath hitched as he worried his bottom lip with his teeth. His hand reached for the handle to the door, and he pushed it open. A chilly breeze swept into the room along with a flurry of snowflakes.
“I believe the snow should stay outside,” Tilly corrected with a small laugh.
Henry stepped outside and reached back for Tilly’s hand. A shiver chased down her spine as her bare hand slid into his. He drew her close as snow gently fell from the sky around them, dusting over her shoulders, over her hair, and dotting her eyelashes. She gazed up at Henry, her eyes searching for something. For an excuse to avoid what she knew would happen next. But she couldn’t find one.
“Hold still.” Henry reached out and brushed the pad of his thumb by the corner of her lips to wipe away some hot chocolate. Tilly pressed her face into his palm, begging for more. She didn’t wish to stop what was happening between them. She didn’t wish for him to return to London. She certainly didn’t want to have him celebrate Christmas by himself. But she also was afraid of what that meant.
“Kiss me, Henry.” Tilly shut her eyes, terrified. She was determined to keep their lives separate. But that was the thing. She was certain their lives were not meant to be separate. And that meant figuring out what it meant if they were to be together. And throwing off all the shame and guilt that would come with them being together.
“Can you say that again?” he asked.
She laughed, uncertain of his meaning. “I don’t…”
“Say my name again, please Tilly. Say my name and I will kiss you until you forget it.”
Everything within her vibrated. “Kiss me again, Henry. I’ve dreamt of it,” she whispered. “Have you done the same? Tell me you’ve missed me since that night.”
“I crave it,” he said, his voice a low deep growl. Then his lips came down upon hers, possessive and hot and searching, and all she could think of was giving herself over to him, to loving the stranger she met in the woods that one night at a masquerade and had somehow found again.
Tilly stood beneath the snow looking as if she were an angel fallen from the sky. He had said as much in the woods in London that evening.
All his control snapped, and he bent down and pressed his lips upon her mouth, hot and searching. He wanted Tilly to be his. He wanted to be greedy for once in his life and not do as others expected of him.
She sighed against his mouth, urging him on. He could taste the chocolate on her lips, and he wished for more. Tilly, as if understanding, melted, relaxing into his touch. He held the small of her back as he gently held her face in his palm and kissed her as the snow fell softly upon them.
“I like kissing you,” she whispered against his mouth. “And I shouldn’t.”
“If we think of what we should or shouldn’t be doing, we wouldn’t be here now, sweet.”
Tilly glanced up at Henry as big, fluffy snowflakes stuck to her long lashes. “I never thought I would be standing outside in the snow, kissing you.”
“I never thought I would find you again.”
He felt her shiver beneath his touch. He bent down for another kiss, pressing his lips against hers, this time slow and lingering as if giving them both permission to believe, even for a little while, time did not exist.
She began to hum, dropping her head onto his shoulder, and the two rocked together in the quiet hush of winter, on the cusp of Christmas and a new year. Everything could change if they only believed it.
