Snowbound With His Forbidden Innocent. Susan Stephens

long as he likes. He’s not disturbing anyone. Certainly not us,’ he added with a long, penetrating look.

       Us?

      Okay. Get over that. Had she forgotten Luc’s love of music? He used to stream music for her to work to at the farmhouse. Maybe she’d added a special significance to the lyrics of the tunes he chose, but the music had helped her escape into another world where there were no grimy floors and dirty dishes. ‘I’d welcome anything that drowns out the sound of men’s voices,’ she would say.

       And now?

      ‘Do you always get your way?’ she asked, biting her lip to curb a smile.

      ‘Invariably,’ Luc admitted, straight-faced. And then he laughed. They both laughed, and what they shared in those few unguarded moments was everything she could wish for: warmth, a past that needed no explanation, and acceptance that they’d both changed, and that life was better now.

      ‘So, why aren’t you in bed?’ she asked cheekily as the guitarist ended one tune and segued into another.

      ‘I should be,’ Luc agreed, but in a way that made her cheeks warm, and suddenly all she could think about was that thwarted kiss all those years ago. Would he push her away if she kissed him now?

      ‘Come on—tell me why you’re here.’

      ‘To see you,’ he admitted with a wicked look.

      ‘Me?’ She laughed, a little nervously now. It always amazed her how the old, uncertain Stacey could return to haunt her at emotionally charged moments like this.

      ‘Why are you so surprised?’ Luc asked, bursting her bubble. ‘I’m the host of a party you planned. Don’t you usually have a debriefing session?’

      ‘Not over a dance,’ she said.

      He shrugged. ‘Why not?’

      ‘We’ve never danced together before.’

      ‘Let’s start a new tradition.’

      His eyes were dark and smouldering, while she was most certainly not looking her best after the busiest of evenings. Was he mocking her? It wouldn’t be the first time. They’d mocked each other constantly when she was younger. ‘Me dance with you?’ she queried suspiciously.

      Luc’s black stare swept the ballroom. ‘Do you see anyone else asking?’

      ‘This had better not be a pity dance,’ she warned.

      ‘A pity dance?’ he queried.

      ‘Yes, you know, when Niahl used to dance with me whenever I attended those balls you two used to rip up together?’

      ‘The cattle markets?’ Lucas frowned as he thumbed his stubble.

      ‘That’s what you called them back then,’ Stacey agreed.

      ‘What would you call groups of hopefuls with one end in sight?’

      ‘Sheep to the slaughter’

      He laughed. ‘Of course you would.’

      ‘I was a poor little wallflower,’ she insisted, pulling a tragic face. ‘No one ever asked me to dance.’

      ‘I wouldn’t call you a wallflower. You were more of a thistle. No one wanted to dance with you because you scowled all the time. People want happy partners to have fun with.’

      ‘The type of fun it’s better to avoid,’ she suggested.

      Lucas didn’t answer but his expression said that was a matter of opinion.

      ‘Anyway, I didn’t scowl,’ she insisted, ‘and if I had smiled as you suggest, Niahl would have gone ballistic. He never let anyone near me.’

      ‘Quite right,’ Lucas agreed, pretending to be stern while the corner of his mouth was twitching. ‘Your brother never liked to see you sitting at a loss, so he danced with you. I don’t see anything wrong with that.’

      Stacey rolled her eyes. ‘Every girl’s dream is to dance with her brother, while he scans the room looking for someone he really wants to be with.’

      ‘You’re not at a loss now,’ Lucas said as he drew her to her feet.

      ‘It appears not,’ Stacey answered. She was amazed by how calm she could sound while her senses were rioting from Lucas’s firm grip alone. And now their faces were very close. She turned away. ‘I’m sure there must be something I should be doing instead of dancing.’

      ‘Yes,’ Lucas agreed. His wicked black eyes smiled a challenge deep into hers. ‘I plan to discuss that as we dance.’