Read Larissa’s Miss Isabella Thaws a Frosty Lord

part of the Cotillion Christmas Spirits anthology from Cerridwen Press

Miss Isabella Thaws a Frosty Lord

Dominated by her father’s rigid ways since a twist of fate stole her sight, Isabella uses the magic of Christmas to steal away for an adventure of her own when invited to join friends for the holidays. Oh, how she adores Christmastime!

How he abhors Christmastime! Lord Frostwood lives up to his name, freezing out everyone since a childhood tragedy hardened his heart. Everyone, that is, until a spirited wench falls at his feet and proceeds to warm his cold existence, thanks to some strategically placed mistletoe and their resulting Christmas kisses.

EXCERPT…which takes place after our heroine has been guided to a quiet spot in the drawing room and our hero has just expressed extreme displeasure…

“Then, pray, what is the source of your consternation? Did Mrs. Parksen guide me to a perilous location?”

“Perilous for my sanity,” he muttered darkly. “We’re sitting directly beneath a kissing bough.”

“Noooo…” Oh, the possibilities that brought to mind!

“Yes. An emphatic yes.”

Was he angry? She couldn’t tell. “Yet had you not mentioned it, I would have remained oblivious.”

“True.”

Her lips tingled.

Her whole body burned.

A clock somewhere in the room ticked away the seconds.

Yet for Isabella, time stood still.

His touch along the back of her hand firmed. “I cannot help but notice you make no move to, ah…move.”

Her breath whooshed out. “Nor do you.”

Now what? Did he place his lips against her trembling own? Cup her cheek and smooth his thumb down her temple and get slapped for his efforts?

The innocent feel of her hand upon his thigh brought forth all manner of anything-but-innocent urges. Had since he’d secured it there.

By damn, if a slap was in the offing, he wanted to do significantly more than steal a simple kiss. “But I also want my bloody questions answered.”

“Pardon?”

Reluctantly, Frost released her hand and stood. “Appears to me as though this particular kissing bough has been dedicated for our use, or at least that’s what I’m deciding given its propinquity and position. I’ll just pocket this beauty and we’ll make use of it at a later date, shall we? Hmmm?”

Not that it would fit in his pocket, not without squashing it to a pulp, but she didn’t need to know that. So he tossed it on the settee, out of her reach.

“But that’s not how it works!”

Frost reseated himself, closer this time if that were possible. “I know full well how they work—”

“Of a certainty, a man like you would.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Want to know whether Frost uses the kissing bough? Read Miss Isabella Thaws a Frosty Lord in Cotillion Christmas Spirits

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