“
This is the one thing I managed to keep. I’d rather give it to you privately, since I have nothing for the others.”
Hesitantly she took the object from his open palm.
It was a small, exquisite black cameo rimmed with pearls. A woman on a horse.
“The woman is Athena,” Devon said. “According to myth, she invented the bridle and was the first ever to tame a horse.”
Kathleen looked down at the gift in wonder. First the shawl…now this. Personal, beautiful, thoughtful things. No one had ever understood her taste so acutely.
Damn him.
“It’s lovely,” she said unsteadily. “Thank you.”
Through a glaze of incipient tears, she saw him grin.
Unclasping the little pin, she tried to fasten it to the center of her collar. “Is it straight?”
“Not quite.” The backs of his fingers brushed her throat as he adjusted the cameo and pinned it. “I have yet to actually see you ride,” he said. “West claims that you’re more accomplished than anyone he’s ever seen.”
“An exaggeration.”
“I doubt that.” His fingers left her collar. “Happy Christmas,” he murmured, and leaned down to kiss her forehead.
As the pressure of his lips lifted, Kathleen stepped back, trying to create a necessary distance between them. Her heel brushed against some solid, living thing, and a sharply indignant squeal startled her.
“Oh!” Kathleen leaped forward instinctively, colliding with Devon’s front. His arms closed around her automatically, even as a pained grunt escaped him. “Oh--I’m sorry…What in heaven’s name--” She twisted to see behind her and broke off at the sight of Hamlet, who had come to root beneath the Christmas tree for stray sweets that had fallen from paper cones as they’d been removed from the branches. The pig snuffled among the folds of the tree skirt and the scattered presents wrapped in colored paper. Finding a tidbit to consume, he oinked in satisfaction.
Kathleen shook her head and clung to Devon as laughter trembled through both of them. “Did I hurt you?” she asked, her hand resting lightly at the side of his waistcoat.
His smiling lips grazed her temple. “Of course not, you little makeweight.”
They stayed together in that delicious moment of scattered light and fragrant spruce and irresistible attraction.
”
”