Page 104 of A Very Bellamy Christmas

“How can I play and eat?”

“Easily. This game is called, Tell me Two things you Like and one thing you Dislike.”

“You just made that up.”

He shrugged his broad shoulders, his gaze suddenly intense.

“I shan’t be able to eat as I’ll be talking.” Stacia’s breathing quickened under his stare.

He raised his eyebrows.

Stacia wanted to know about him—anything, no matter how minor and insignificant. But what would he ask about her? Not that she had that many interesting things to hide.

Don’t be such a coward.

“Fine,” she said.

“Good. You go first,” he said.

“It is your game. You go first.”

He smiled. “Very well. I like cheese and horses and I loathe the name Sebastian.”

Stacia had just taken a bite and choked, her eyes watering as she tried to swallow and laugh at the same time.

He pushed her glass of lemonade toward her.

“That was not fair,” she said hoarsely after she’d taken a sip.

He grinned. “But it is true.”

“Why do you dislike the name Sebastian. It is a very nice name.”

“I said loathe and it is a horrid name. It is your turn.”

Stacia could see he was adamant, so she took another bite of cake, chewed leisurely, and considered what she would say.

***

Andrew decided it was time to open a bottle of wine.

“Take your time,” he told her a bit sarcastically as she was certainly showing no signs of haste. He looked at the various bottles, trying to decide which of the excellent vintages would not be utterly destroyed by pairing it with fruitcake. The fourth bottle he lifted from the case was a sherry he knew to be dry. Not exactly his drink of preference, but it would go well with the sickly candied cake she was eating.

He fetched another glass, this one smaller—Kathryn had included a truly impressive selection of glassware—and poured it half-full.

“Here, this should go well with your cake.” He pulled a face as he handed her the glass. “Rather, it will be the least wrecked by being paired with fruitcake.”

She gave the contents of the glass a delicate sniff before taking a tiny sip. “Thank you.”

Andrew opened a bottle of madeira for himself and then sat back in his chair. “Well?”

“I like dogs and fruit cake and I dislike animal traps.”

He snorted. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

“What? Like you did?”

“Fair enough.” He cast his gaze ceilingward, deciding what he should share and just how much he could push her. He lowered his eyes to hers a moment later. “I like the feel of cool linen against my bare skin on a hot summer day—”