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“If I can get it right.”
“It looks perfect to me already, although you do need some holly berries in red.”
She nodded. “I was already intending to add the berries once I was done with the leaves. I’ve been putting off finishing everything because it’s been so cold, but now I have no choice. The embroidery design is for a gown Maman completed sewing days ago. I’ve nearly finished embroidering the Father Christmas figure, so I must start on the holly soon. Maman is sewing dancing slippers to go with it, and then I’ll have to repeat the design on those.”
“Can you fit Father Christmas on dancing slippers?”
“I can. As long as he is quite small.”
“That would require very small needles and fine needlework, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes.” She arched an eyebrow. “Do you doubt I can do it?”
“I wouldn’t dare.” He grinned at her. “I fear you’d stab me with one of your needles if I did.”
“And don’t you forget it, sir,” she warned, trying to look serious and failing. She coughed a few times. “Maman’s most important customer, Mrs. Beckford, is attending a Christmas Day affair at a friend’s house, so that’s what the gown and the slippers are for. Fortunately, the dyeworks next door is spewing lots of steam today and keeping the alley moderately warm, which is why I was hoping to get work done outside.”
“Even if it makes you cough.”
She nodded.
“Also, it isn’t ‘moderately warm’ out here. It’s freezing.”
“It’s not so bad,” she lied. “Not with plenty of warm clothes on.”
He lifted an eyebrow but didn’t remark on that. Instead, he returned his gaze to her design. “I take it your stepmother supports you three with her sewing? And you do the same with your embroidery?”
“Yes.” She shrugged. “I would embroider things regardless since I enjoy the art, but why not earn money for it?”
He seemed to be pondering something. “I’d love to see some finished examples of your needlework.”
She couldn’t help laughing, especially after all the questions he’d asked regarding her design. “The Viscount Cokesbury has an interest in embroidery. How droll.”
“Please don’t stand on ceremony with me,” he said, his beautiful eyes gleaming as he walked up to her. “Call me Noel, as you and Natalie did when you were girls. After all, you and I are old friends, aren’t we?”
She arched an eyebrow. “Are we? You never wished to see my embroidery when I was thirteen.”
“I never wished to kiss you then, either,” he said bluntly, “but things change.”
A delicious shiver swept over her when he tipped up her chin with one finger and pressed his lips to hers.
Her heart pounded in her chest from the sheer surprise of it. It wasn’t like any kiss she’d ever experienced. Lips supple as kid leather caressed hers as he slid a surprisingly powerful arm about her waist to pull her close. Everything about it intoxicated her— the feel of his hard body against her, the taste of coffee on his breath, and the smell of spicy cologne that clung to him and settled into her, a familiar scent after she’d smelled it on his coat yesterday.
Then he slanted his mouth over hers, coaxing it open so he could plunge his tongue inside. Her heart thundered in her chest. Such wild heat spread from where their mouths were joined to where he was holding her that she thought she might burst into flames. He tangled his tongue with hers over and over, rousing an unfamiliar hunger in places that had never felt hunger before, prompting her to throw her arms about his neck.
Groaning low in his throat, he kissed her more fiercely, as if he couldn’t get enough. Or perhaps it was she who couldn’t get enough … of the sensual strokes of his tongue and the feel of his soft curls beneath her fingertips.
He broke the kiss only to scatter a succession of kisses down her chin to her throat, making her gasp at the thrill and yearn for more. His hat fell off, as if tempting her to thread her fingers through his gorgeous hair, so she did. He pressed a warm line of kisses along her neck and up to her ear.
Heavens. What lovely kisses he gave!
Suddenly, a sharp noise sounded in the street nearby, jerking them both back to their surroundings.
She was the first to pull away, to draw her coat about her and avoid his gaze, embarrassed that she’d behaved like a veritable wanton with him. Thank God no one was likely to notice them in the alley, especially since the dyeworks windows were high up, but still … this was very public.
He dropped his hands, then bent to pick up his hat and knock it against his thigh before placing it back on his head.
For a moment, the only sounds in the alley were of the steam from the dyeworks and their heavy breaths.
