Chapter Twenty-Three
Sebastian’s gaze lingered on her as the firelight painted soft, golden hues along her cheeks. Maddie was unusually still, her hands folded in her lap, her eyes fixed on the flames. Icy snow outside and fire inside—she felt like the lodge. And Sebastian was lighting the fire inside for her, too.
Beneath the sturdy beams of the lodge’s oiled ceiling wood, with the rich scent of burning wood and the faint edge of wine still hanging in the air, the space between them crackled with something unspoken.
He leaned forward from where he sat on the hearth, his elbow resting casually against his knee. “You’re awfully quiet. Shall I be worried?”
Maddie turned her head just slightly, her curls shifting on her shoulders. Her expression was caught somewhere between shy and mischievous. “No,” she said softly, though her knee bounced just enough to give her away. “I don’t know where to begin my exploration. Research, I suppose. For the book?”
“That sounds unconvincing. I think it’s research for yourself.”
“Why would I need it?”
“To decide whether this is a scandal or a courtship.”
“I already know.”
“Which is it then?” He arched a brow and gave that once-over that instantly made her feel as if she were naked.
“Find out for yourself.”
“Hmm.” He straightened, leaning back on his hands, the careless movement so at odds with the warmth in his eyes. “And here I thought you were concocting some new set of questions to interrogate me with to fill the pages of the handbook with notes.”
Her lips parted in mock offense. “Interrogate? I’d hardly call it that.”
“No? Perhaps you’d prefer the term cross-examine?” His grin widened as her blush deepened, the rosy hue creeping above the delicate neckline of her dress.
“I can hardly be blamed,” she said, lifting her chin. “You’ve been very difficult to understand.”
“Ah, delightful, and yet incomprehensible? The goal of every courtship,” he teased with a wink. “What precisely is it about me that requires clarification?”
She hesitated, her teeth catching her bottom lip in a way that completely derailed his composure. The effect she had on him was absurd. Maddie didn’t even realize she had all but rendered him a moth darting toward flames.
“Well?” he prompted, his tone deliberately light even as he tensed under her scrutiny.
“It’s…” She sighed, her shoulders dropping as though she’d given up the fight. “It’s just that when you look at me like that…”
“Like what?” he interrupted, shifting forward just enough to diminish the space between them.
“Like you do,” she finished, her voice so quiet he had to strain to catch the words. “I forget all the rules. You make me feel as if I were posing for an artist in the nude.”
As soon as the words left her lips, Maddie wanted to claw them back.
Saints, had she truly just compared herself to a nude subject?
The heat that flooded her cheeks had little to do with the fire.
Her heart thudded against her ribs, uneven and wild, because this wasn’t her. She wasn’t the girl who said brazen, ridiculous things aloud. She wasn’t the girl who flirted or teased or bared herself emotionally or otherwise.
But he looked at her like he saw all of it. Every flustered thought. Every unspoken longing. And even more, like he liked what he saw.
For all his practiced charm, the confession made him falter. Sebastian stared at her, the weight of her honesty tugging something deep in his chest. He reached forward, his fingers brushing hers, hesitant at first but firm when she didn’t pull away.
“Forget them then,” he said simply.
Maddie blinked, startled. “Pardon?”
“The rules,” he clarified, his thumb tracing slow circles along the top of her hand. “Forget them.”
“You can’t just…” She floundered, clearly unprepared for his boldness. “There are rules for a reason.”
“Maddie,” he said, leaning closer, his deep voice softening to a near whisper. “Would you like to know my opinion of rules?”
Her eyes narrowed, but there was no mistaking the spark of curiosity that danced behind her hesitation. “I suspect I will regret asking,” she murmured.
“Likely,” he agreed, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Rules are for the unimaginative.”
She gaped at him, her indignation both immediate and wholly charming. “Is this why you’re impossible?” she exclaimed, flustered. “Because you just make things up as you go?”
“Not everything,” he countered, his grin broadening. “For example, I didn’t make you up. You’re better than anything I could ever imagine. Ever did imagine. So much better.”
There was that once again.
Her expression softened, the teasing air between them shifting just enough to make her pause. “I’m not certain what to do with you,” she confessed, her voice so quiet he almost missed it.
His hand tightened gently over hers, the slight pressure sending a current down her arm. “I’ll tell you what to do,” he said, his smile soft as he tilted his head toward her. “Kiss me.”
Her inhale was sharp, her lips forming a small “O” before she caught herself. “You can’t just… say things like that.”
“Why not?” he asked simply, his fingers sliding to brush the inside of her wrist, where her pulse fluttered wildly against his skin. “You’d rather I say what’s expected of me?”
She glanced toward the fire, her eyes catching the light in a way that made his chest ache. “I don’t know what I’d rather,” she admitted finally. “You… unsettle me.”
“Good.” The softness of his gaze tempered the heat in his voice. “Unsettling you might be the best thing I’ve done today.”
Her laugh came unbidden, but she quickly stifled it with her hand, shaking her head. “You’re infuriating.”
“So I’ve been told.” He cocked his head, his hand lifting hers as though testing her weight against his palm. “And yet, you’re still leaning closer to me instead of running away.”
Maddie opened her mouth to retort, but no words came. Instead, she held his gaze, the silence between them thick and charged, the air between breaths growing faint. His thumb passed over her knuckles once more, a deliberate, questioning motion that pulled her closer in spite of herself.
“What happens,” she asked softly, breaking the silence, “when all this… unsettling leads to something we cannot undo?”
Sebastian smiled, slow and knowing, as though her words had given him precisely what he needed. “Then we’ll call it a triumph instead of a disaster.”
Her lips parted, the simplicity of his answer unraveling the knot in her chest. And when he leaned in, so close she could feel the faint warmth of his breath brushing her cheek, she didn’t pull away.
For once, Maddie forgot the rules entirely.
She forgot the questions, the objections, and the nagging doubts.
And in that moment, there was only Sebastian, impossible, infuriating, and hers for the taking.
*
Sebastian caressed Maddie’s cheek, the softness of her skin under his touch leaving him breathless.
Every detail of her was imprinted in his mind, but this moment was different.
Her lips parted slightly, and the shallow rise and fall of her breaths beckoned him closer.
That she didn’t turn away, didn’t shy from him, was a gesture that seemed to say, Yes.
Here.
Now.
He kissed her softly, reverently, letting their connection build like the flames in the hearth behind him, burning slow and steady.
Then, with gentle confidence, he took her hand and guided it to the side of his neck.
Her fingers hesitated against his warm skin, but when he caught her gaze, the trust in his eyes seemed to give her the courage to move.
Slowly, her hand slid upward, her fingers threading into his dark hair.
Her touch was unsure at first, light and experimental, but then she grew bolder, the tug of her fingers sending a pleasant shiver down his spine.
She was discovering him, bit by bit, and every moment of it felt like a revelation.
He kicked off his boots carelessly, never breaking contact with her except to adjust, drawing her closer into his space.
His hands skimmed her waist, feeling the dampness of her dress where the snow had soaked through.
He stilled, leaning back just enough to look at her.
“Your dress,” he murmured, his voice low and roughened by the heat between them. “It’s wet.”
Maddie blinked, as though waking from a dream. Then understanding dawned. “It needs to dry,” she said, her voice no more than a whisper. “Melted snow…”
She turned her back to him and pulled the pins from her hair.
Then she let her hair down, a dark mane of the softest curls.
Her movements were deliberate, curling her arms slightly as she lowered her head.
The mass of her hair shifted as she bent forward, and the line of buttons running down her back stretched taut before him like a challenge.
He reached for the first one with a steady hand, his fingers brushing the fine fabric.
One button came loose, then another. Each felt like a tiny victory, its release bringing him closer to unraveling the mystery that was Maddie.
The soft popping of the buttons filled the silence between them, echoing like the crackle of the fire.
The fabric gave way under his fingers, bit by bit, revealing slivers of skin kissed golden by the flickering light.
She shivered once, the barest trace of goosebumps rising beneath his touch, but she didn’t pull away.
When the last button was undone, the gown sagged against her, no longer supported by its structure.
His hands carefully slipped the fabric from her shoulders, and gravity took over.
It fell in a gentle rush, pooling at her feet in a sea of deep hues.
For a moment, he didn’t move, watching the firelight play across the newly revealed contours of her figure, entranced by the unspoken grace in every line of her.