Thalia opened her eyes and stretched against the rumpled bedsheets where she lay warm and rested. Rolling her head on the pillow that still bore traces of Leo's scent, she gazed out the window at the white flakes of lightly falling snow.

December truly was upon them, Christmas just around the corner. She couldn't believe how quickly the last six and a half weeks had pa.s.sed-the most wonderful six and a half weeks of her life.

But tomorrow her idyll would end, temporarily at least, since Leo was leaving to spend the holiday with his family at Braebourne, the Byron family's ancestral estate.

Initially, he'd planned to stay in London and spend Christmas with her, but she'd talked him out of it.

"Your family is counting on you being with them," she'd said. "They'll be hurt if you don't go."

"There are so many of us these days, especially now that all my older siblings have families of their own. I doubt I'd even be missed," he'd answered with self-deprecating humor.

But she hadn't been convinced.

"Somehow I think they'd notice your absence. You're far too dynamic a personality to fade into the background, even if Braebourne is overrun with dozens and dozens of relations." She took his hand. "Go. Be with your family. I will be here when you get back."

He'd frowned. "And what of you? How will you spend the holiday?"

"The same as I always do." She'd shrugged as if it made no difference to her, when in reality she was dying inside at the idea of being alone and without him.

She'd forced a smile. "The staff always makes me a lovely meal and we pull Christmas crackers together. Later, Hera and I usually curl up in front of the fire with a good book and a cup of hot wa.s.sail."

"It sounds lonely. I'll stay."

"No, you won't."

As much as she wanted him with her, she didn't wish to tear him away from his people, to cause a rift with his family over her.

"Besides, I forgot to tell you that my friend Jane Frost will be in Town and has promised to drop by for a cup of syllabub that afternoon. I shall be quite entertained."

It wasn't a complete lie, since Jane had written to say that she was coming into the city. But it would be a quick visit just after Christmas and she wasn't planning to stay more than a day or two. She hoped there would be time to meet for a cup of tea.

Thalia hoped so too, but wasn't counting on it, since Jane's husband would be with her and he, like Lord Cathcart, frowned on their continued a.s.sociation.

"Do not worry about me." She'd kept her voice deliberately cheerful. "I shall be perfectly fine on my own. And actually, it may be a good thing, since I've been sadly neglectful of the accounts over the past few weeks." She slid her arms around his neck and pressed her b.r.e.a.s.t.s to his chest. "Someone has been keeping me very busy lately."

He'd grinned. "I suppose someone has."

Then he'd kissed her and carried her to bed, even though it was the middle of the day. By the time they'd come up for air, the discussion was forgotten.

But now the day was nearly upon them and he would depart come morning. The thought made her chest ache, agony creeping upon her like a waiting shadow.

She wouldn't let herself wallow yet. She would have plenty of time for that over the next three weeks, since he would be away through the New Year and the Twelfth Night celebration.

Maybe their separation really would be a good thing. She'd become far too dependent on him, living for the hours they spent together, both day and night.

They'd fallen into a routine of sorts, riding each morning before they returned to the town house together to eat breakfast and decide on their plans for the day. He still returned to his house to bathe and change clothes. But lately, he'd been bathing here at her town house and having his valet deliver fresh clothing and other grooming essentials. At the moment, in fact, there was a set of his silver-backed hairbrushes, a razor and strop and shaving soap on her washstand. A spare suit of his clothes hung in her wardrobe and in a small dish on her dressing table there was a pair of gold cuff links.

Small things but incredibly meaningful nevertheless.

She wished he hadn't needed to leave her this morning, that they could have spent every hour of the day together.

And tonight, of course.

But he'd had some last-minute business he'd been unable to put off. So he'd left her to sleep late with promises to return by midday.

As for evenings per their routine, he had dinner with her nearly every night, then took her to bed. They nearly always made love, often more than once. The only exception was during her monthlies when she hadn't felt up to it. But he'd stayed anyway, holding her through the night while both of them slept.

Her bed was going to feel strange without him.

Empty.

Her house too, despite the servants and the warm, sweet, uncritical companionship of Hera.

She sighed and put her hands over her eyes, wondering how she was going to bear his absence.

But she could, knowing he would be back.

And when he wouldn't be?

When the time came and they said their final good-byes?

She let her arms drop to her sides against the sheets and stared again at the falling snow.

She wouldn't think about that day. Not now. Not until it came.

Ignoring the ache in her chest, she sat up and reached for her robe.

"Lawrence and I are leaving tomorrow at first light," Leo told Thalia that evening as they lingered over a dessert of warm apple and raisin tart with brandied cream.

He'd suggested they eat dinner in her sitting room rather than the dining room as was their habit; he'd longed for the warmth and intimacy of her quarters on their last night together.

A frown creased his brows. He ought to be excited about going home to Braebourne. Usually he couldn't wait to walk through its broad halls and beautiful grounds, to spend time with his noisy, exuberant, warmhearted family, who were always ripe for fresh schemes and merrymaking.

But this year he just couldn't seem to muster his usual enthusiasm and the reason was sitting across from him right now.

He gazed at Thalia, taking in her dark-haired beauty as if to memorize it. And perhaps he was. Ridiculous as it seemed, he didn't want to be apart from her, not even for a mere three weeks.

He wished he could take her with him.

But men didn't take their mistresses-or lovers, as he knew Thalia preferred to be called-home to meet their families. Even as open and tolerant as his mother and siblings were, he didn't think they would approve of him bringing the woman with whom he was practically living these days into the midst of their Christmas cheer. As for his uncles and aunts and cousins, well, they would like it even less.

He should have told them he was staying in London. He shouldn't have let Thalia talk him into making the long trip to Gloucestershire and leaving her behind.

"Are you sure you'll be all right here by yourself?" he said suddenly. "I can always send word to Lawrence to go on tomorrow without me."

"Don't be silly. We've been over this before. Go. Enjoy your Christmas at home. I shall be fine."

"Well, if you're sure-"

"I am," she said, her voice firm. "Be with the people you love."

But he was beginning to suspect he was there already. That she was the one he loved above all others.

He held his tongue and drank a swallow of hot coffee instead.

Maybe she didn't feel the same.

Maybe she wanted him to go, to get some separation, since they were together so frequently. Perhaps she was growing tired of him?

He set his cup down with a clink.

"I won't be able to stay tonight," he said. "Mayhap I ought to go. Let you get some sleep."

Some look he couldn't interpret flashed in her eyes before her lashes swept down. "If that is what you'd prefer." Her voice was even, emotionless. "I am sure you could use a full night's sleep as well."

"You're right. I could."

Tossing down his napkin, he pushed back his chair and got to his feet. That's when he remembered, feeling the sight bulge in his coat pocket.

He dug inside and withdrew a slim, black velvet-covered box. "Here. I know you don't want presents from me, but we did agree that Christmas was acceptable. This is for you."

She took it but didn't open the lid. "I have something for you as well. Wait here."

Skirts billowing around her ankles, she hurried from the room into her bedchamber next door. She returned quickly, a rectangular-shaped object in hand. It was wrapped in white paper, a red grosgrain ribbon tied around it in a bow.

"It's not a great deal, but I hope you like it nonetheless," she told him, her words faintly breathless. "Promise you will not open it until Christmas."

He met her eyes. "I promise."

"Well, I-suppose I ought to wish you good night and a safe journey," she said, her hands linked tightly before her.

"Yes. Happy Christmas, Thalia, since I won't be able to say it to you on the day."

"Merry Christmas, Leo. And a very happy New Year as well."

A lump settled in his throat. "Will you miss me at all?" he said harshly.

Surprise lit her eyes. "Yes, of course. Every day."

Seconds ticked past, the very air heavy with the emotion arcing between them.

Suddenly she was in his arms and he was kissing her, pouring everything he had into the embrace. He clutched her to him and lifted her off her feet, ravishing her lips with fervid, almost desperate kisses.

She wasn't far behind, sinking her fingers into his hair, demanding every bit as much as he took. Opening her mouth, she slid her tongue against his with a wet, sinuous glide that made him shudder.

Rocking her against his straining shaft, he hitched her higher into his arms, his hands splayed against her rounded bottom. His hold secure, he carried her to the bedroom.

She bounced lightly against the mattress as he laid her down on her back. Tossing her skirts to her waist, he stepped between her legs, then yanked off his coat before moving quickly to unfasten his falls.

Without any further preamble he was inside her, lodged hard and hot and deep. She clasped him like a velvet glove, one that seemed to have been fashioned expressly for him.

She arched and took more, took everything.

And he gave it back, thrusting inside her until both of them were wild, until she climaxed with a pleasure so intense her fingernails bit into his skin in a way he was sure would leave marks.

Then he claimed his own satisfaction.

He lay over her in the aftermath, waiting for his racing heart to slow. He brushed damp tendrils of hair away from her face and kissed her slowly, softly.

"I suppose I should go," he said after a while.

"Hmm, I suppose you should. You need to sleep, remember?"

"Do I?" He kissed her again, more pa.s.sionately this time. "I can sleep later."

She curved a leg higher around his waist and kissed him. "So can I."

Thalia awakened in the dark of the night to the sensation of Leo's lips moving against hers. Looping her arms around his neck to kiss him back, she realized that he was fully dressed and leaning over her instead of lying beside her in the bed.

"Sorry to wake you, but I didn't want to leave without saying good-bye," he said.

His features were dimly lit, the room illuminated only by the low-burning embers in the fireplace. Still, she caught a glint of the green in his eyes, memorizing it to think about later.

"What time is it?"

"About four."

Her heart gave a painful squeeze; she tightened her hold. "Then you must go. Be safe."

He kissed her again. "See you in three weeks."

"Yes. In three weeks. Don't forget your present."

"I won't. Thalia, I-"

"What?"

He paused, then shook his head. "Nothing. Go back to sleep and dream happy dreams."

She would dream, but she didn't think they would be happy ones, not with him away. So rather than answer, she kissed him, putting all her pa.s.sion, all her sorrow at their parting into the embrace.

With a few words, she could stop him from leaving. She could keep him here with her.