"Wow." Harrods at Christmas was incredible.
So much color, so much life. Kat had never cared for Christmas. It had always felt like just another day to her, but seeing this and being with Tristan, it felt different. Wonderful. Everything around her seemed to glow, and it wasn't just the lights glinting from the windows. It was the way Tristan was looking at her, smiling, their hands close enough to touch. God, she wanted that so much it hurt, and right now it felt possible to be with him.
They were just two people out Christmas shopping, merging with other Londoners on the crowded sidewalks. She could pretend they were a couple, and that there wasn't anything forbidden about them being together. Her lips parted as she took a deep breath, embracing the moment. She must have looked silly because Tristan chuckled and reached for her hand. "You'll get used to the crowds. Come on."
Kat only hesitated a moment, enjoying the experience of putting her hand in his and the sense of connection that came when he curled his fingers around hers. For a brief moment she could slip into the universe that circled this sexy, charming man and believe that she belonged there.
He gave her hand a little squeeze when she didn't pull free of his hold. It was just the two of them, all alone, no parents. There were no secrets, no social or familial barriers keeping them apart now. Surely one day of hand-holding wouldn't be a risk. In the holiday rush no one would notice the two of them on a quick errand. She dodged the flurry of shoppers and icy water splashing from the street as taxicabs and tour buses rumbled past them.
Tristan picked a store door at random and led her inside. The scent of cinnamon and nutmeg surrounded her, the aromas carrying her back to snowy memories of building forts and making cocoa with her dad when they'd lived in Michigan for a year.
Color was everywhere; stacks of brightly decorated boxes, toys, and chocolates were on display. Anything and everything anyone could want filled the open shopping areas. It was overwhelming.
"Do you know where the trees are?" she asked Tristan as she followed him, her hand still curled in his, the grip warm through their gloved hands. They dodged babies in strollers and small children who were being wrangled by their frazzled mothers with full shopping baskets.
"This way," he said, indicating where to go. After they'd meandered through several huge departments, Tristan tugged her to a stop in front of a massive display of trees. "I hope you weren't expecting a live one." Tristan laughed and released her hand.
Kat instantly felt the loss of his touch, but she forced herself to focus on the trees. "Artificial is better," she said. "I can't stand to use a real one, not after reading the Hans Christian Andersen story The Fir Tree."
His lips thinned into a grimace. "Agreed. That man had a way of traumatizing little children. Between that, the Little Mermaid, and the matchstick girl story … " He trailed off with a theatrical shudder that had her suppressing a giggle.
"So we agree on artificial." Kat walked the length of the tree displays, studying each option: flashing lights, no lights, and snow-frosted trees. "Dad and I usually had a small tree we unpacked each year. I'm not used to picking something so big and … "
Permanent. Dad was getting married. This would be the family Christmas tree for years to come. The tree that she'd share with Tristan and his mother every year for the rest of … forever. How in the hell was she going to live the rest of her life with him after everything they'd done? Just play stepsiblings and ignore the fact that he'd taken her virginity and showed her how wonderful sex could be? Her throat constricted, and she battled the dueling emotions of panic and sadness.
Hands gripped her shoulder, stilling her in place so she couldn't continue her restless pacing.
"It's only a tree," Tristan reminded her. "Let's select one without lights, and we'll have the pleasure of decorating it ourselves. We'll get a tall one so it can be seen through the front windows."
He stood so close behind her that Kat had to fight the urge to lean back into him. If only she could give in to everything she was feeling in that moment, the need to connect to him, to cling to him when her life seemed to be spinning wildly out of control. His hands rubbed her coat-covered arms before he leaned over and pointed at one of the trees. It was a seven-foot beauty.
"That one?" she whispered, her breath suddenly quick. His cheek touched hers, and her whole body flushed with heat and awareness.
"That one," he murmured. Before she could react, he brushed his lips against her temple and left her side to wave over a store clerk. Little sparks of heat still burned where he'd kissed her, teasing her with that flame of desire she couldn't extinguish.
Kat stayed put, watching as Tristan gestured to the tree and handed the clerk a slim black credit card. It took her a few deep breaths to calm herself. If little innocent kisses like that were going to send her into a lust overdrive, she was going to have serious problems.
Tristan was impossible to ignore. Every look, touch, caress, or kiss was going to wreak havoc on her if she didn't find a way to turn her reactions off. She wasn't a robot; she couldn't ignore how he made her feel or how her body reacted.
I'm so screwed …
A few minutes later the clerk returned with his card and a receipt. Tristan waved the receipt in the air, grinning as he walked over to her.
"It should be delivered first thing tomorrow. We have plenty of lights and ornaments from last year."
"That's good. We can decorate it tomorrow night. I don't know how we would've gotten that tree back home by ourselves," she said and flinched.
Lizzy's town house was becoming home. It was all so strange … to know that her life was drastically changing. Kat and her father would be living in England. She'd been so busy acting like a petulant child and worrying about avoiding Tristan that she hadn't even thought to ask her dad about what this marriage meant long-term. Tristan would be in her life forever. She couldn't afford to mess things up for her dad by getting involved with her stepbrother.
God, I'm so selfish. The thought was so punishing, Kat actually winced.
"What's the matter?" Tristan cupped her chin and tilted her head back.
She almost pulled away from him, but as always, his hands on her made it hard to think.
Around them, the sounds of children laughing and the Christmas music humming from hidden speakers ran rampant on her emotions, and she sniffled.
"It's nothing," she lied.
"Kat, please, talk to me." His voice was low, rough with emotion. "You know you can tell me anything."
God, the man was killing her with his tender concern. He was also right. Talking with him had always been easy. She'd shared so much of herself with him that she couldn't imagine holding back anything. Yet she fought now to do just that. The last thing she wanted was for him to discover what was in her heart.
He smoothed the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip, and that treacherous little ache to kiss him, to be kissed … burned inside her. Memories of other kisses, of other nights with him, flashed before her eyes, and the need for his mouth on hers was almost too much. She started to lean into him before she caught herself and stepped back.
Why do I have to be so afraid of loving him? She wanted to scream, to rage and curse, but she couldn't do any of that. All she could do was stare up at Tristan, feeling like she was bleeding on the inside.
"I really don't want to talk about it. Can we just go? Please?" If she had to talk about everything that was tearing her up, she'd never survive, not when he was staring down at her with such pity.
"Of course, darling." His intense gaze softened, and he took hold of her hand again.
Darling. Why did his calling her that sound so wonderfully intimate? Like they were true lovers, not two people dancing around each other to avoid making a huge mistake?
They wandered through the department store, admiring decorations, presents, and window displays.
As they entered a different part of the store, Tristan halted, and Kat bumped into him from behind.
"What-" she stammered as she peered around his tall body, then gasped.
Ahead of them, filling the room, were three massive display sets. To the left, a young woman stood at the window of a vine-covered tower, her braid of corn silk – colored hair reaching to the ground. A young man in slightly medieval garb held fast to the vines, as though ready to climb.