““Nicholas, are you coming into the room?” she asked at last, puzzled. “Oh! Yes, of course. I just . . . the blue, it suits you. Even if it is the color of the sky. It matches your eyes too. I never even realized. But of course they’re blue.” She smiled at his seeming bewilderment and rose to help him out of his snow- bedecked coat, and his scarf that was crusted with frost. “Should I have warned you I wouldn’t be in uniform?” “It might have been wise,” he confessed. “You’re stunning enough even... in your workshop togs. This is nearly too much.” He put his icy hands on her shoulders, drawing her closer. “But I’ll adjust.” His kiss was icy, too, but still managed to raise Mary’s heart rate almost immediately. When she gasped for air, he pressed his tongue gently into her mouth, and she found it was hot and soft, a delicious contrast to the chill of his lips. Footsteps in the hall alerted them in time to distance themselves from one another, and Nicholas made a production of draping his coat and scarf over a chair by the little hearth as the serving girl laid down two bowls of thick stew.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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