A VERY TUDOR CHRISTMAS Read Online Free Page B

was too silly to know better. If anyone did such a
thing to Bea now, she would beat them over the head with their own bodkin! It
was infuriating how men thought they could play with girls’ tender hearts like
that and then run away, completely unaffected.
    “Not quite long enough,” she said. She tried to slide out of
his arms, but his hold on her just tightened, drawing her closer.
    “Did you never think of me at all after we parted?” he asked,
the laughter vanishing into a strangely serious tone.
    “I have been much too busy here at court to ponder such
trifles,” Meg said, hoping she sounded cold and distant. Dismissive. “There are
so very many people about. Surely you have been busy, as well.”
    Busy kissing women from Paris to Muscovy, she was sure.
    “I have seen a great deal, ’tis true,” he said, still holding
onto her. “But I never met anyone else like you—Meg.”
    “True. I am not most women,” she said, trying once more to tear
herself out of his arms. “I have forgotten all about you.”
    “Meg, you can’t mean that,” he said, and for an instant he
sounded truly hurt. But Meg knew better now than to listen to any man.
    “Don’t call me Meg,” she said. “I am Mistress Clifford.”
    “You’ve always been Meg to me, in my memory. What has happened
to you?”
    “What do you mean?” Meg realized she wouldn’t be able to break
free of his arms, so she went very still and stared at the high embroidered
collar of his doublet, at the hard line of his jaw. And suddenly, she wanted to
cry, because she just wanted him to go on holding her. Wanted to feel again the
way he’d once made her feel. So alive and free.
    But she knew that could never be again.
    “You look like the Meg I remember,” he said. His hand slid down
her arm, rubbing her soft satin sleeve over her skin until his bare fingers
touched hers. “You’re even more beautiful now. But your eyes are so cold.”
    In a burst of anger, Meg cried, “You mean I’m not the foolish
girl I once was? The one so easily lured in by pretty words and kisses? I’ve
learned my lesson well since last we met.”
    He raised their entwined hands to study her pale, ringless
fingers as if he had never seen them before. As if they fascinated him.
    “Do you still take what you want with no thought to anyone
else?” Meg whispered.
    Robert’s eyes met hers, and for an instant she saw a bright
flash of something like anger or pain in those ocean-blue depths. Then they went
ice cold again. “You know nothing of what I’ve done in my life. If only you
had...”
    “If only I had what?” she said, bewildered.
    “You drive me mad,” he growled, and suddenly his arms came
close around her again. He pulled her body hard against his, drawing her up on
her toes, and his mouth swooped down to cover hers.
    He wasn’t harsh, but he was deliciously insistent, his mouth
opening hungrily over hers, his tongue tracing the seam of her lips as he sought
entrance. She opened for him, meeting him eagerly as a raw, hot hunger swept
over her and she couldn’t resist it.
    She hadn’t realized until his mouth claimed hers again how much
their long-ago first kiss lived in her memory, how much she had longed to feel
that way again. That sensation of the real, everyday world, where she had to be
the sensible, practical Meg, flew away and she felt herself falling down into
pure emotion. It was terrible, delirious—and all too wonderful.
    Robert’s hand slid down her back as their kiss deepened,
pulling her body closer into his. He caressed the curve of her lower back
through her satin bodice. When she moaned against his lips, his hands slid under
her hips and lifted her high against him.
    As she held onto him, her head fell back and his lips slid down
her arched neck. The tip of his tongue tasted the hollow at the base of her
throat, where her pulse beat out a frantic rhythm. How she wanted him, even
after all this time! She knew she should berate herself for it,