She shivered.“Michael.”One hoarse word.
“Astrid,” he whispered, “what are you doing to me?”
“Me?”Gradually, she arched back into him.“What areyoudoing?”
His groan caused her nipples to tingle.“I could be doing so much more.”
A whimper escaped her lips.
“Sh.Someone might hear you.”
The book they had been reaching for was now tucked against her chest, pressed there by Michael’s strong hand.His other hand was on her hip, migrating north, up her ribcage.His thumb brushed the underside of her breast.
“Please.”What was she even asking him?For more?In a public place?
“Please, what?”The warmth of his breath was excruciating.He felt right.Protective.Attentive.But what did he really think of her?He had shown interest and then gone cold.And now, he was anything but cold.He was a natural hot springs, and all she wanted was to bathe in him.
“End this torture.What do you want from me?”she demanded.
He whirled her around, his lips an inch away from hers, his body pressing her into the shelf behind her.
Desire ridden eyes beheld her, while a tremble in his arms vibrated through her.
“I-I don’t know.”He dropped his forehead against hers and took a couple of deep inhalations.Her heart was sawing through her, unaware of whether it was building or destroying something.Yet a glance at his face revealed nothing.Perfectly stoic, he was.She didn’t understand how he could so quickly turn his emotions off, like snuffing out a candle, whereas as she had a conflagration of inner organs to manage.
With that snuff of a candle, he led her to the counter and paid for the pink book along with a few of his resting atop it.
Neither of them noticed the curious look from the bookstore owner as he processed the payment.
Just as they were passing through the doorway and Astrid felt the burning imprint of Michael’s hand on her back, the shopkeeper called out, “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
Together they looked back at the sound.The man was pointing to something hanging in the doorframe.
Mistletoe.
Of course there would be mistletoe.
She looked up at Michael and caught sight of his knitted brows, thinking he would wave off the prompt from the store owner.
Knowing he couldn’t give her even a small kiss, she couldn’t hide the hurt.Hadn’t he mauled her the night before?She was a strong woman, but for some reason, this public (though small) rebuff, hurt deep.
Casting her head down, she moved to leave the store.
“Astrid,” he exhaled roughly and his hand cupped her jaw, “I want you, damn it.”
And then he placed the gentlest of kisses on her lips.
It was as though he returned to the man she had once thought he was.In a word: kind.She was spellbound by his passion, his intense emotional drive.But she needed his kindness.
The two left the bookstore with her hand tucked under his arm.That kiss, that small tender kiss, had shifted something into place.That kiss told her that he could still be soft with her.The thoughts hardly had a moment to settle into place before they approached the group.
“Michael, thank God you’re here.”The dowager was racing toward them, panic flared in her eyes.
“What’s going on?”
“Hope is gone.”
“What?”Astrid’s body froze.
