Page 29 of A Wolf for Winter

Lilac blinked in surprise. Allen didn’t have blue eyes. “Wait, what?”

Still holding Rose’s hand, she glanced over her shoulder and visibly startled at the sight of Rose’s honest-to-gods mountain man. It was like she had conjured him out of thin air. The man was just as she’d described, though she’d conveniently omitted the word brute.

His blue eyes glittered like chips of ice, and he had an almost feral grin on his lips as he stood much closer to Rose than propriety allowed. Entranced, Rose wiggled her hand free of Lilac’s and offered it to the brute.

“Rose Hawthorne,” she introduced.

“Darren Morton,” came a gravelly reply. He took her hand, and instead of shaking it, lifted it to his lips and pressed a most lascivious kiss to her knuckles. Rose shivered.

“Do you like ice skating?” she asked.

“Rose,” Lilac said, a warning tingling up her spine. She recognized him from yesterday at the Cat & Cauldron, though she’d never seen him in the village before this year. Though, this year had seen a huge influx of visitors.

In characteristic Rose fashion, her sister ignored her. “Bye!”

Rose and Darren practically vanished into thin air, leaving the press of bachelors to crowd even tighter around her like a pack of wolves encircling a wounded doe.

The onslaught began. Vapid compliments, well-wishes for her and her family’s health, how is she enjoying the festivities, what did she want for yuletide, and other such meaningless twaddle. She smiled demurely, kept the conversation light and flowing as she had been trained, and left them all with a sense that they might stand a chance to gain her approval this Yuletide Gala if they could just get their competition out of the way.

“Gents,” a voice cut over the din, “if all you’ve got to offer Mistress Lilac are words, then you’re behind in the race. Mistress, would you do me the honor?”

Having partly wedged his way through two men who were determined not to let him come any closer, Allen Sharpe offered her a single sprig of lily-of-the-valley.

She gasped. Boar hadn’t destroyed them all, and better still, Allen had saved one.

“Thank you,” she said, truly meaning it. She took the sprig and held it close, momentarily forgetting her anger with him.

He smiled softly.

The peace granted by the small gesture was shattered when someone practically shouted in her ear that he would be absolutely delighted to get her some punch. Another declared he’d seen wild roses outside, and wouldn’t she like something with a bit more color? That set the entire pack off, all of them fleeing and leaving Lilac and Allen standing within an arm’s length of each other. Alone.

“Now you’ve done it,” she accused. “In a handful of minutes I’ll be drowning in punch and fat with cookies and I’ll have more flowers than a floral nymph.”

“But in the meantime,” he replied, “the quiet’s kind of nice, isn’t it?”

Lilac discovered herself inhaling a deep breath, her eyelids fluttering shut. Though the din of vendors hawking their wares and services filled the Hall, this little bubble where she stood with Allen was blissfully quiet.

When she opened her eyes, Allen wore a gentle expression on his face. It was so warm and comforting, like he was welcoming her to just be there, no pretenses or expectations needed.

Don’t do this, she thought, heart suddenly hammering. Don’t make me fall for you.

It could ruin everything.

Then he opened his mouth.

“About last night—”

Lilac’s anger returned, and she would’ve thrown the lily-of-the-valley into his face except she really, really wanted to keep it. The hand not holding the flower balled into a fist, her fingernails cutting tiny sickles into her palm. “Go away, Allen. I have nothing else to say to you.”

“You don’t need to say anything to me. But you will to everyone else.”

“Excuse me?”

Allen glanced over her shoulder to where Boar was greeting everyone at the door, his attention firmly on his host duties. “C’mon, while he’s not looking,” he whispered to Lilac. “Follow me. Be quick or Rose’ll find out and blab.”

Lilac was more intrigued that she cared to admit, especially since Allen had pegged her siblings so accurately after knowing them for less than a day. She kept the scowl on her face, though, because while she knew last night wasn’t his fault, she was still hurt and devastated and needed a target for her anger.

“What is it?” she asked crossly as he led her down the leftmost row of booths.