Page 48 of A Very Bellamy Christmas

“I am not proud of what I said the other night, Miss Martin. But I would not burden myself with a tedious companion to make amends. I am not that self-sacrificing.” He cocked his head. “Can you not forgive my cruel, ignorant, and idiotic comment? If you truly cannot, then I promise to go away and leave you in peace.”

Her heart lurched unpleasantly at the thought of him leaving. “Fine. I forgive you. But you don’t need to flirt with me, my lord—you never have before.”

“Before?”

She shook her head in amazement. “You truly do not remember, do you?”

“If you are asking if I recall meeting you before this house party”—she nodded—“then my answer is no. I take it that is not the truth?” Before she could answer he gestured to one of the many benches. “Come, let us sit. We are attracting notice just standing around.”

Stacia willed herself to say no, thank you. Instead, she nodded and meekly allowed him to lead her to a seat.

“I will fetch us skates,” he said, heading off before she could tell him that she could get her own skates.

All around her people were hurriedly donning their skates. A nearby trio of children tottered excitedly toward the ice. They could not have been more than nine or ten and she couldn’t help smiling when one took a tumble and pulled the other two down with her. All three laughed and scrabbled about clumsily as they struggled to get up again.

A shadow passed over her and Lord Shelton dropped to his haunches in front of her. “Here, let me put them on for you.”

“I can—”

“I am sure you can,” he said, removing his gloves and tossing them aside before deftly unbuckling the straps without even looking.

His hands, she noticed—not for the first time—somehow managed to be beautifully elegant and yet powerfully, distractingly, masculine.

And they were reaching for her.

“Give me your foot,” he ordered.

Stacia glanced around at his scandalous command, to see who was watching. But everyone was too busy either donning skates—or helping others put them on—or making their way to the ice. Nobody was paying them any attention.

She clamped her jaws tight to keep a fatuous smile from taking control of her face and extended her booted foot.

She was impressed that he had chosen exactly the right size. But then why would that surprise her? The man probably knew women’s bodies better than they did.

“What is it?” he asked.

“What is what?” she asked coolly.

“You were smiling and then suddenly you looked as if somebody had just broken your favorite toy.”

“I am not a child, Lord Shelton. I don’t have toys.”

His eyes swept over her in a bold way that stole her breath. “No. You are not a child.”

Stacia’s heart stuttered and she could only be grateful that she was seated.

“You are not going to answer me, are you?” he asked, closing the last buckle and holding out his hand for her other foot.

“No.”

He laughed, squeezed her ankle, and then strapped on the skate before sitting beside her, his big body pressing against hers although she could see he still had at least three inches of bench on his far side.

So, she thought, this is what it was like to be flirted with and pursued by an expert.

It was…intoxicating.

Don’t become too accustomed to it, the wry voice in her head warned. He will lose interest quickly enough as soon as somebody prettier comes along.

For once, Stacia refused to allow the voice to dampen her pleasure. Why not enjoy the moment?