“My pride is intact.”
“Well, I seem to have wounded your feelings in some way.”
“You havenoidea of my feelings.”
“Perhaps not.” She smiled impishly. “You do keep your emotions rather close to the vest.”
With a growl of frustration, he abandoned his struggle with the waistcoat buttons. “This is impossible.”
“Here. Let me help.”
Working from smallest finger inward, she loosened her left elbow-length glove and slid the red silk sheath downward. Slowly. Revealing her forearm. Then her wrist. Then her hand and delicate fingertips.
As she repeated the process with the other glove, Justin’s pulse went wild. He’d seen burlesque performances in some of Covent Garden’s most scandalous establishments, and none of them were this arousing.
Gloves removed, she closed the distance between them. As she reached for the waistcoat buttons, he made the mistake of glancing downward. Good God, her low neckline served up her bosom like two dishes of cream.
“Wait.” He retrieved his coat from the bench and wrapped it around her shoulders. “Before you freeze.”
Before I go mad.
He yanked the lapels together over her bosom. There. Better, in theory. In actuality, it was little help. He had four other senses eager to aid his downfall.
She’d been drinking mulled wine. Her lips were stained a deep claret red, and the scents of cloves and cinnamon hovered in the air between them. Her kiss would taste like Christmas.
As she set to the task of persuading the first button loose, her hand brushed his chest. His knees went weak. Apparently even layers of dreadful needlework, velvet lining, and starched shirt still weren’t armor enough against her touch.
He drew in a sharp breath.
She tsked. “Be still, you.”
“Miss Chloe—”
“I know, I know. This is forward, familiar, and horribly improper. Scold me if you like, but you will waste your breath. I will not be intimidated.”
He clenched his hands in fists at his sides. “I’m sufficiently acquainted with your character to know that much.”
“I got you into this situation. It seems only fair that I should get you out of it.”
Very well, Justin concluded. As ordeals went, this was a minor one. He should take it like a man. Well, he should take it like a significantly less virile man. He steeled himself and did his best impression of an unfeeling rock as Chloe undid the buttons one by one.
A sense of irony did not escape him. Over the past several months, he’d entertained many fantasies that began with her helping him out of his clothing. And then continued with him ripping hers to shreds. However, of all the settings and occasions he’d imagined, he didn’t recall any of those fantasies taking place in the front drive of her house on a frosty winter night. And none of them, absolutely none of them, featured reindeer of any kind.
When she’d undone the last button, his waistcoat hung open, exposing the front of his crisp white shirt. The shock of frigid air could not quell his hammering heart.
“There,” she said. “You are free of it.”
Free of the vest, perhaps. Free of her? Never.
“Thank you,” he said. “Now return to the party. It’s cold.”
Unsurprisingly, she ignored his directive. “I owe you an apology. I should not have lied to you about the waistcoat. I’m sorry.”
“There are no apologies necessary. It’s nothing.”
“It’s clearlysomething.Something enough to drive you away.”
“I am not driven away. I simply recalled I have another engagement this evening.”