Carole Mortimer - Mistletoe Magic

‘Molly…!’ Gideon had time to murmur her name gruffly before his mouth once again claimed hers.

He was right. This was madness. But it was a madness Molly was no more able to stop than Gideon apparently was, and her lips parted to the pressure of his, her body curving against his hard contours even as her hands moved up over his shoulders, her fingers becoming entwined in the blond thickness of his hair.

These emotions had just been put on hold, she realised dazedly. Sam’s interruption earlier had been only a respite from a desire neither of them seemed able to resist.

Gideon raised his head slightly to look at her. ‘Why is it we’re always in the kitchen when I kiss you?’ he murmured self-derisively, his lips lightly grazing her temple.

‘Because it’s the warmest room in the house?’ she suggested huskily, aware of this man with every fibre of her body.

Gideon looked at her with dark, fathomless eyes. ‘I’m very warm. Aren’t you?’

Warm? She was on fire!

‘Quite warm,’ she answered softly, suddenly shy. The time, the stillness of the house, was making it seem as if they were the only two people on the planet.

‘Let’s go into the sitting-room,’ Gideon suggested gruffly, and he took her hand in his and turned to leave the kitchen.

Molly hesitated. The fire still glowed in the sitting-room. There was a sofa—a very comfortable one—in the sitting-room. And this was Gideon, a man who had expressed nothing but contempt for her.

She shook her head. ‘Gideon, I don’t think—’

‘No—don’t think,’ he encouraged throatily, turning back to cup one side of her face with the warmth of his hand. ‘Whenever the two of us start to think, collectively or singly, that’s when things go wrong between us.’ He bent his head to kiss her lingeringly on the lips. ‘Don’t think, Molly,’ he urged persuasively.

She couldn’t. Not when he kissed her with such aching passion. And she followed as he once again turned to leave the room.

She had been right about the sofa; it was comfortable. She sank back against the cushions as Gideon began to kiss her once again.

‘You did look very beautiful tonight in that red dress,’ he told her huskily as his lips travelled the length of her neck to the hollows of her throat. ‘But all I wanted to do all evening was strip it from you!’ he added achingly, before his lips returned to hers, fierce passion making any more talk between them impossible.

Molly’s heart had leapt in her chest at Gideon’s admission concerning her red dress, and her lips opened to his now as he deepened the kiss to intimacy.

His back was warm beneath his tee shirt, the muscles rippling beneath her fingertips as she touched him there, gasping slightly as his hands began to caress beneath her own top.

Only intending to come downstairs for a quick mug of coffee, she had merely pulled the rugby top and denims on over her nakedness, and Gideon groaned his approval as his searching hand encountered her bare breast.

It was Molly’s turn to groan as Gideon cupped and caressed her nakedness, her nipple already pert and inviting as a thumbtip moved across it in a light caress.

And all the time his lips continued to possess hers, and Molly was aware only of him, of the touch of his mouth and hands on her lips and body.

Her hands clutched convulsively in the hair at his nape as he moved his lips to her naked breast, and she seemed to stop breathing altogether as he drew the sensitive tip into the moist warmth of his mouth, his tongue a rasping caress.

Molly was aware of every muscle and sinew of him as he lay half across her on the length of the sofa, his long legs entangled with her own, the hardness of his thighs telling of his own desire—if she had needed any telling.

‘I want you, Molly,’ he groaned as his mouth returned to hers and his hands now caressed the fiery tips of her breasts. ‘God, how much I want you.’

She wanted him, too—too much to be able to say no to anything he asked of her.

His face was slightly flushed, his eyes glittering darkly as he raised his head to look at her, one of his hands moving to cup beneath her chin, his thumb running lightly over lips swollen from the hungry kisses they had just shared. ‘Say you want me, too, Molly,’ he encouraged huskily.

She didn’t have to say it—knew it had to be obvious when her whole body was on fire. Even the blood in her veins seemed to flow more heatedly, making her aware of every pulsing inch of her body, from the soles of her feet to the top of her head.

‘Say it, Molly!’ he urged again. ‘Tell me—’ He broke off abruptly. ‘What’s that?’ He frowned his confusion.

Molly frowned too as she became aware of a loud scrabbling noise somewhere in the house.

‘A sleigh with eight reindeer on the roof, do you think?’ Gideon suggested incredulously.

Molly gave a shaky smile. ‘Somehow I doubt that very much,’ she answered ruefully, very much aware of their closeness. Gideon’s bared chest was against her own, covered in that downy blond hair, as she had imagined it was.

‘So do I.’ Gideon gave a dazed shake of his head as he raised himself slightly. ‘What the—?’ He gasped as the sound of loud barking suddenly broke the silence around them.

‘It’s Merlin,’ Molly said concernedly, struggling to sit up.

‘I realise that, but—hell, if we don’t stop him he’s going to wake the whole house up in a minute!’ Gideon rasped, standing up to stride forcefully from the room with the obvious intention of silencing the dog.

Molly took a little longer to regain her equilibrium, still trembling with desire as she sat up to watch Gideon leave, her cheeks fiery red as she hastily pulled the rugby shirt down over her nakedness.

‘Saved by the dog’ didn’t sound quite the same as the original quote, but it was no less the truth, for all that. If Merlin hadn’t begun barking like this, shattering the intimacy between them, then she knew she would have told Gideon just how much she wanted him.

Too much!

NOT that Gideon seemed to be doing too good a job of silencing Merlin. The sound of the dog’s barking was interspersed with low growls, too, now, and the cacophony became louder as Molly hurried down the hallway to the kitchen.

Merlin was scrabbling at the back door when Molly entered the room, and Gideon was doing everything he could to calm him—from talking to him soothingly to raising his voice sharply, even going down on his haunches and trying to hold the dog and silence him that way.

This was something Merlin took great exception to, growling even deeper in his throat, baring his teeth in displeasure.

‘He wants to go outside,’ Molly advised him worriedly.

Gideon turned to scowl at her. ‘I know what he wants, Molly,’ he bit out frustratedly. ‘I’m just not sure it’s a good idea to let him out,’ he added slowly.

She looked down at him frowningly. ‘Why not?’

‘Because… Just because.’ He amended whatever he had originally been going to say, straightening to look down frustratedly as Merlin still scrabbled frantically at the door. ‘I know this is a large house, but nevertheless I have no doubt that he’s woken everyone in it by now—’

‘He has indeed,’ Sam muttered grimly as he came into the room. ‘Silence, Merlin!’ he instructed sharply.

Amazingly, the huge dog went quiet—although he still stood staring at the back door, panting heavily.

Sam, a white bathrobe pulled on over his nakedness, ran a hand through his already tousled hair. ‘This is turning into one hell of a Christmas.’ He shook his head dazedly.

‘Isn’t it?’ Gideon agreed dryly.

Molly didn’t look at him—couldn’t look at him—but nevertheless she knew that last remark had been directed at her as much as at Sam.