Chapters (67)
- Malory Family Tree
- The Present
- Dedication
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Home for the Holidays
- Dedication
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- About the Author
- Praise for The Holiday Present
- Books by Johanna Lindsey
- About the Publisher
He set the heavy upper trunk aside, probably could have done so with one hand, it seemed so effortless to him. And he didn’t move back to the doorway as would have been proper. They were alone, after all, completely alone, in a bloody bedroom no less, which went beyond improper, was in the realm of compromising. So she dove into the next trunk as soon as it was cleared, the sooner to get him out of there, and thankfully came up with the narrow, wooden jewel box this time.
“There are only these few pieces that were my mother’s, and her mother’s before her,” she said as she thrust the box at him. “They are valuable, but the value is more sentimental to me than anything—”
She gasped instead of finishing. He had placed his hand over hers on the box to take it from her, probably because he hadn’t taken his eyes off of her long enough to glance down at what he was reaching for. It was a shock to her, staring into his eyes as his warm palm slid over the top of hers, slowly, too slowly, before he finally took the box from her. She was totally undone again, blood racing so fast she really did think she would faint this time.
That touch they had just shared, which had completely shattered her composure, meant absolutely nothing to him. He glanced down as he flipped open the box to look inside at the long strand of pearls and the pearl and ruby butterfly pin therein.
“I understand,” he said tonelessly before looking up at her again with gold eyes that seemed even hotter, though it was probably just the light again that made them seem so. “And these?”
Before she realized what he was referring to, or going to do, he flicked one of the earrings she was wearing with his finger. His other fingers brushed against her neck as he did so, an accident surely, yet she felt the shiver clear down to her toes. She swayed as her knees started to buckle. She forgot how to breathe. In a desperate effort to regain control of her senses, she closed her eyes—and heard a groan. His? Surely not.
She focused on the subject, or what she thought was the subject. It took several long moments to dredge it up. The slamming of the lid on the jewel box helped, startled her enough to open her eyes again too.
“The earrings are always with me, either worn or resting beside my bed when I sleep.”
“I’m not taking any chances where you are concerned. Give them to me.”