“I’d consider it. We women have to stick together.”
“Truce.” Tanner released Hallie and stood up, holding his hands above his head.
A snowball caught him squarely in the face. He turned to discover the culprit. Amanda had her hand cocked back, ready to release another.
“What is this? A petticoat conspiracy?”
“Yes. Ready, women . . . aim and fire.” At her signal Tanner’s nieces bombarded him with snowballs.
“Amanda, I’ll get you for this.” She took refuge behind the picnic table as he stalked her, pelting him with soggy snowballs hastily made from the rapidly melting snow.
“You’ll have to catch me first.” Lobbing one last snowball, Amanda raced across the patio and into a stand of pine trees. Tanner came hard on her heels.
“Come on, troops, time to go caroling.” They heard Hallie’s command and the shouts of the Donovan clan, but they were too busy with their chase to notice.
Tanner cornered Amanda behind a pine tree. Swinging her over his shoulder, he marched to the newly deserted patio and lowered her to the snow. He pinned her beneath him, took a handful of snow, and carefully rubbed it in her face.
“Revenge is so sweet,” he said.
“It’s also cold. Tanner, what are the statistics on ladies dying in the snow in fifty degree weather?” He was so busy enjoying his triumph, he didn’t see her reach out and clutch a handful of snow.
“Never, if they have a gentleman to keep them warm.” He circled her lips with his tongue, then raised back up to look at her laughing face.
“A pity you’re no gentleman.” In one swift move she reached up and dropped snow down the back of his shirt.
“Remember what happened the last time you did that, Mandy?”
“No,” she said, lying. She remembered it very well.
“You had to go to great lengths to get me warm again.” He stood up, taking her with him. “Nostalgia has an appeal at Christmastime, don’t you think?”
“Yes,” she said softly. She had to touch him, to feel the solidness of flesh and bone that told her he was really there beside her. Reaching out, she traced his fine cheekbones and the firm, square line of his jaw. “So long ago, Tanner.” Her fingers played over his lips, memorizing them for the lonesome days when he would no longer be hers. “The house was empty then.”
“It is now.” He pulled her into his arms. “The entire family has gone caroling.”
She rubbed her cheek against his, reveling in the feel of him, marveling at the way her love for him kept growing. “Aren’t we going?”
“We’ll catch up to them later.” He lifted her into his arms and started up the back steps. “That is, if you want to.”
The door popped shut behind them, and they were all alone in the Donovan house. There was no sound except Tanner’s footsteps on the polished wooden floors, and yet Amanda seemed to hear the echoes of love and laughter within the walls of the old house.
Tanner’s progress toward the bedroom was slow, for he had to keep stopping to revive himself with a kiss from Amanda. She was more than happy to oblige.
At the top of the stairs he set her on her feet and claimed another lengthy kiss. “Hmm, you’re better than a St. Bernard at rescuing men who are frozen stiff.”
Her hand played along the front of his pants. “If that’s frozen, I hope it never thaws.”
Tanner smiled, “How did you get to be so shy?”
“Practice.”
“Come here, you.” He pulled her into his bedroom and began to strip off her clothes. “I have in mind another kind of practice.”
He took his time, unveiling her more than undressing her. Each time he saw her body, he marveled anew at its perfection. There was some unexpected delight under every garment he removed.
Her bra, damp from the snow, joined her blouse on the thick carpet.
“I never noticed that tiny scar.” His voice was thick with passion as he reached out and touched the side of her breast.
“From chicken pox.”
He wet the scar with his tongue. “Let me kiss it and make it well.”
“Tanner,” she whispered, “how can I ever let you go?”
He was too busy to reply. His hands moved down to her waist, expert now at opening her zipper with the least amount of effort. Deftly he peeled her slacks off, standing back to admire the view.
He bent down and kissed the indention of her navel, the soft down of her abdomen. “There,” he murmured. “There is where our children will take life.”
She almost believed him.
Before her thoughts drifted to what might have been, she felt herself being lifted, felt the puffy quilts against her back, felt the weight of Tanner. Their loving was slow and languorous, every stroke and counterthrust made achingly beautiful by their shared regard for each other.