The Mistletoe Ghost by Sahara Kelly

Author:Sahara Kelly [Kelly, Sahara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: SK Private Label Publications
Published: 2022-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

*~~*~~*

“Feel better?”

He managed not to laugh as she nearly shot up off the footstool. “Oliver. I didn’t hear you come in,” she squeaked, trying to keep her balance and not tumble to the floor.

“Well, you’re certainly close enough to the fire to dry off a bit. In fact, I wonder if you might be a little too close? All those towels so near to the flame…watch for cinders flying out.”

Her back straightened as she half-turned and shot him a look of disdain. “I’m not twelve, you know.”

Her shoulders were bare, her skin glowing in the firelight, dark curls unruly against the pale beauty.

“That’s obvious,” he grinned, allowing his gaze to travel to where her hand clutched the towels together at her breast.

“You may leave the bag there, thank you.”

“Of course.” He put it on the bed and returned to the bedpost, folding his arms nonchalantly.

“I can manage,” she nodded, all regal elegance despite her lack of clothing.

“I’m sure you can, but I would be an insensitive clod were I to turn my back on a woman who is going to need help doing up her buttons. Why, you might easily tumble or hurt yourself trying to fasten your gown. And we can’t have that.” He sighed dramatically. “You might even be unable to get up off that footstool, given that you’re wrapped so tightly in damp towels.” He shook his head. “No, considering all that, I’d be a monster to leave you unattended. Just treat me as you would your maid.” He spread his arms and bowed. “I’m here to serve, my Lady.”

She narrowed her eyes. “No.”

“Yes.”

“Oliver…”

“Yes?”

“You need to leave.”

“No.”

“I cannot dress with you here.”

“You cannot dress without my assistance.”

“Nonsense.” She moved her feet and clutched the towels even more tightly.

“You are wrapped tight, sitting eight inches off the floor. Standing up will be a challenge, Ally, and dressing? Even more of one.”

With a massive effort, she attempted to prove him wrong, only to end up on her knees when the towels stuck to her damp legs, locking them together and tipping her over sideways.

He could almost hear her teeth grinding together. “One word. Just one word out of you…”

Oliver, being a man possessed of what some considered an excellent amount of intelligence, kept his mouth shut. He simply moved to her side, let her put her hand in his, and drew her upward and onto her feet.

The ivory skin was flushing now, whether from warmth or temper, he didn’t know. But he did know that he wanted to touch it. Badly. So badly that if he didn’t touch her right this minute, he might just succumb to failure of the heart.

He let his fingers trail over her shoulders, ostensibly brushing her curls away from her skin. “So soft, Ally,” he whispered. “So lovely and soft…”

She stared at him, her eyes wide, and—if he didn’t mistake it—with an arrested expression that spoke of curiosity, not concern.

“I…” There it was, a whispered sound that resonated in his brain. She wasn’t pushing

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