Page 61 of The Dare Before Christmas

“I don’t mind,” she said, breathless now, fighting back a silly smile as he cupped her cheek, his palm warm against her skin.

“You are so very beautiful, my lovely Victoria. I was never so proud as when I saw you walking down the aisle towards me today.”

And Victoria might have returned the compliment, might have told him he was the handsomest man in the room and her stomach had erupted with butterflies when she’d seen him standing waiting for her, but then he was pressing his mouth to hers and so she kissed him back. Because who needed words when she could express her feelings just as easily like this?

The kiss went on, lingering, tender, as Barnaby held her close, in no hurry to do anything more than this. When he finally released her, Torie gave a little gasp, breathless and vividly remembering everything he had made her feel the night they had been so rudely interrupted by his aunt and the duke.

“My shoes and stockings aren’t the least bit wet,” she said, affecting a mournful sigh.

“Oh, dear,” Barnaby said, immediately understanding. “That’s a pity. Might I take them off anyway, do you think?”

“Yes, please,” she whispered.

With a low chuckle, Barnaby led her to a comfortable chair by the fire and bade her sit down.

“Now,” he said, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Where was I?”

He knelt before her and leaned in for a kiss as his warm hands encircled her ankles.

“I think you were a little further on than that,” Torie pointed out, feeling the first stirrings of impatience.

Barnaby quirked an eyebrow. “I’m in no hurry, love. Such dainty ankles you have. They deserve my full attention.”

Torie watched as he carefully removed her shoes, his warm hands massaging her feet until she sighed, though with pleasure rather than impatience. Slowly his hands moved higher, up over her silk stockings, past her knees, where he paused.

“No drawers?” he asked, looking rather shocked.

Torie blushed. “Flo told me not to bother with them today,” she said, watching his face to see if he was pleased or scandalised.

She decided it was an equal measure of both, just as Flo had suggested, and relaxed as his hands continued on their path to her garters, which he removed with splendid alacrity. Torie’s heart quickened as he reached for the lace top of her stocking, and tugged first one, and then the other from her, casting them aside.

“I seem to remember you played a part in this last time,” Barnaby said, caressing the backs of her knees until Torie wanted to purr like a cat. She had never known such an inauspicious place as the backs of her knees could be so very sensitive.

“Did I?” she asked, struggling to think at all as her nerves leapt beneath his touch.

He nodded, and so Torie gathered her courage and reached for him, pulling him to her, widening her legs so he could fit between them. Barnaby kissed her again, his hand stroking up and down her thighs in a way that was at once both soothing and maddening.

“I’d never hurt you, Torie, you know that, don’t you?” he whispered, nuzzling at the sweet spot beneath her ear that made her shiver, before nipping at her earlobe.

Torie’s breath caught. “Of course I know that,” she said, impatient now. “Touch me, Barnaby. Like you did that night.”

He made a low, approving sound as his fingers traced up and down her thighs, then moved lower, tickling through the soft nest of curls. Torie held her breath, closing her eyes as his touch teased her senses, never coming quite to the place where she wanted him. She opened her eyes then, about to protest, only to find him watching her, smiling.

“I think we ought to take that lovely dress off you and take this to the bed. More comfortable.”

For a moment she considered scolding him, but Flo had explained that a good lover was likely to tease a little, and so she bit back her impatience and nodded, allowing him to help her up. Doing her best not to fidget with impatience, Torie turned this way and that as he undid the fastenings on the deep emerald gown she had worn to get married in.

He paused suddenly, staring at her. “Did you mind? The wedding, I mean. I was in such a hurry to marry you I never…. Would you have wanted a huge, splendid affair in a church with hundreds of guests and—”

Torie shut him up with a kiss, lingering until he sighed, and she pulled back. “Better?” she asked.

“Much,” he agreed, nodding.

“Our wedding was perfect. I would have wanted nothing more, even if I’d had months to plan it all.”

Apparently satisfied, he carried on until the dress sagged and Victoria stepped out of it. She shivered, though the room was far from cold, and Barnaby smiled.

“I’ll warm you up soon enough.”