Chapter 13
thirteen
AMANDA
By late morning, reindeer filled the driveway, as well as half of the village.
What had been arranged as a photoshoot with the elaborately decorated sleigh, a very realistic Father Christmas, and a whole team of antlered reindeer had turned into an impromptu gathering.
After many drinks, Rita had suggested that anyone with kids come on up.
The photographer had been somewhat dismayed until I negotiated a fat cheque for her.
Rita hadn’t even blinked, just added a couple of zeros and signed it off.
The children were bouncing like they’d had sugar-coated syrup-laden e-numbers for breakfast.
The housekeeper, Pru, fussed over them with glee.
Which meant I had a chance to step away.
To relax my aching false smile and breathe away from the rather smelly animals.
And perhaps to find Henry. Like it or not, he kept invading my brain. The memory of his warm hand on my spine, steady and safe. That million-watt smile, which had gone from annoying to me, to filling me with butterflies.
The moment I spotted the orangery, something reached low inside me and tugged me toward it. Before I’d thought twice, my boots were crunching across the frosty gravel, my stomach flip-flopping with nerves. And excitement.
The greenhouse was thick with the scent of damp earth and the faint sweetness of whatever winter blooms Henry grew.
Low light caught on leaves and cast diffused shadows on the red brick floor, and amongst all the foliage knelt Henry, snipping at forest green boughs and strapping them to willow strips that had been melded into a circle.
Completed wreaths balanced around him, filled with deep red berries, pinecones and frosted-looking, furred leaves.
He didn’t glance up.
‘Good morning, Amanda.’
There were enough people in the manor that I wondered how he’d known it was me.
‘How did you know it was me?’
Henry’s eyes finally met mine, a smile lifting the corner of his mouth.
‘Your scent.’
I froze by the door. What did he mean by that? My perfume? I was pretty sure I didn’t stink.
‘What?’
‘I can tell when you’re in the room, or have just left a room. It’s a mixture of cocoa butter, the floral smell of your perfume, vanilla and rose, and underneath it all, the enchanting scent of you.’
Well. Fuck. He knew my scent. He acted like a golden retriever, but I didn’t expect him to have the nose of a bloodhound, too.
‘Do you tend to go around sniffing people?’
‘I can’t say I’ve ever noticed someone's scent before. But I can’t help but notice you, Amanda.’
The butterflies turned into great flapping seagulls in my stomach.
‘So, what can I do for you?’ The question hung in the space between us.
I had a few suggestions. Kiss me until I can’t breathe. Bend me over the workbench. Put me on my knees and…
I swallowed, trying to steady myself. ‘I was checking if you needed anything before you head off to the Christmas market.’
He tied off some twine before beckoning me to him.
His expression was infuriatingly unreadable.
‘Try again.’
The words slid under my ribs and sent my heartbeat thundering.
Heat rose to my cheeks at the simple demand. I didn’t need to pretend I was there under some ploy. Henry made it clear that it’s okay to let my guard down. That it’s okay to want.
‘I want…’ Knowing it was okay to tell him didn’t make it any easier to do so. ‘You to kiss me.’
Henry’s expression changed, his pleasure marking his grin, and those blue eyes darkened like a stormy sea.
Standing, he said, ‘Come here.’
I obeyed, crossing the room, my pulse quickening when I stood before him, looking up into that devilishly sweet face.
His eyes flicked to my mouth as I wet my lips.
When his fingers brushed the side of my jaw, I inhaled sharply, the smallest of his touches lighting me up brighter than the monstrous Christmas tree inside.
‘I haven’t stopped thinking about these damned lips,’ he murmured, almost to himself. ‘Or the way you whimper into my mouth. The way your breath catches when I touch you…’ His thumb traced lightly along my lower lip. ‘It’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever heard.’
The words hit like a physical sensation, darting straight between my thighs and spreading heat through me.
‘Here?’
‘Anywhere,’ he said. ‘Everywhere.’
The everywhere was positively salacious.
Tipping my jaw, his lips brushed the side of my neck in a slow kiss that sent sparks through me in an unbroken wave. His breath skimmed my skin, and the soft touch unravelled all the tightness I’d been holding in my chest.
He kissed just below my ear next, lingering on my pulse point as I placed my hands on his thick chest, feeling the solidity of him. Then he found my mouth and kissed me with unhurried depth, erasing any thoughts of reindeer, photographers, clients and the outside world.
The stroke of his tongue practically wiped my name from my head. I curled my fingers into his woollen jumper, demanding more with the eagerness of my own mouth.
Then footsteps crunched on the path outside the glass.
A male voice, one of the Petersens, calling my name. I flinched, pulling back from the kiss and seeing red. I just wanted five god damned minutes to lose myself in Henry’s mouth. Was that too much to ask?
‘Henry, someone’s coming.’
He didn’t push me away. Instead, he pulled me deeper into the foliage, placing himself between me and a wooden table.
Then he sank to his knees.
Right at my feet.
Right between my thighs.
‘What are you doing?’ I asked through gritted teeth as Bill Petersen came into the orangery.
He didn’t answer. His fingers wrapped around my black leggings and tugged me closer to him, settling himself where the potting bench and the angle of the worktable hid him from sight.
‘Ah, Amanda,’ Mr Petersen called as he stepped inside. ‘Sorry to interrupt. Just wanted to check when we’ll be doing the next round of photos, the kids are…’
I forced my attention to Bill, trying to ignore the warmth of Henry’s breath brushing the inside of my thigh through the fabric of my trousers.
‘Yes, of course.’ I aimed for a professional tone, but it came out far too high-pitched. ‘I’ll be with you in just a few moments.’
Henry’s hands slid around my arse, tugging me against his face. The grazing of his thumbs over my hips had me reaching forward to grip the table.
I all but forgot how to speak as he slowly kissed my thighs, grazing over the front of my trousers as he alternated sides. Mr Petersen kept talking, blissfully oblivious of the sinner beneath the table, explaining something about how one of the kids had her hat eaten by one of the reindeer.
I nodded along, hoping he didn’t hear the squeak I gave when Henry kissed me right there. Heat engulfed me between the thighs as I saw stars. It had been far, far too long since I’d had someone there. If only he’d yank down my trousers and let me feel his tongue.
‘You alright there?’ Bill asked.
‘God, yes,’ I sighed, before catching the throaty way I said it. ‘I mean, yes. Thank you. I’ll be with you in a moment.’
Henry’s fingers stroked higher, arching my hips to give his mouth more access to me.
His lips teased through the material. The fact that he didn’t stop when someone came in sent mixed signals to my body.
I should push him off. Tell him to stop.
But it only heightened my need. Made tingles sweep through me.
Mercifully, Mr Petersen excused himself and left the orangery. I braced a hand on the edge of the workbench, trying to find some words.
‘Henry, what the hell do you think you’re doing?’
He rose slowly, his hands skimming the entirety of my rear as he did. When he finally stood in front of me again, he spun us around, pinning me against the bench, pure hunger marking his face. Being caged by him only had me all the more desperate for more of his delicious touch.
‘What I’m doing,’ he said, his voice deep and gravelly, ’is giving you exactly what you came looking for. You asked me to kiss you. You didn’t say where.’
‘You can’t just do that sort of thing.’
‘Yes, I can.’ He slid a hand into my hair before tightening his grip, painfully tipping my face to his. The ache took my breath away, the heady mixture of pain and pleasure sharpening the lust pooling between my thighs. ‘Because you want it. Don’t you?’
You bet you’re sweet arse I did.
Then he kissed me again, an all-consuming collision that stole any doubt straight out of my lungs and replaced it with heat so sharp it ached.
My fingers grasped at him, hunting for something to hold onto, and when he pressed forward, I felt an unmistakable hardness against me.
Losing any sense of shame, I ground my hips, moaning at the curls of pleasure the pressure against my leggings elicited.
‘Henry,’ I breathed.
He rested his forehead against mine for a second before pulling back, his fingers still lost in my hair.
’Later,’ he said, rougher than before. ‘I want nothing more than to let you grind your sweet cunt against me until you lose all that pent-up control, but you’ve got clients waiting, and I have a market to attend.’
It took a full three seconds for the words to make sense.
‘No… I need this.’
‘I know you do, and I’ll gladly sink between those thighs until you scream the fucking manor down, but the wait will make it all the more satisfying.’
‘You can’t leave me like this.’
He stepped back and smiled. ‘Oh, but I can.’
‘Maybe I’ll just go find my vibrator.’
‘If you think it’ll satisfy the itch, Princess.
But I have a feeling it’ll only leave you needing more.
There’s only so much silicone can do. It can’t make you pant like I just did, can it?
It can balance pain and pleasure until you’re brain malfunctions.
But by all means… If you can’t wait for me. ’
That smug arsehole.
And the worst part? He was right. I didn’t want a quick fix. I wanted him to finish what he started.
‘Bring the Petersens down to the market after lunch. I’ll be waiting for you.’
I left the greenhouse with my pulse still thundering and my legs akin to Bambi’s.
Wetter. Hornier. Angrier.
Because I wasn’t used to letting someone else lead. As much as he made me weak at the knees, I also wanted to just pin him down and take what I needed, so I could get it out of my head.
Get him out of my head.