Page 133 of A Very Bellamy Christmas

He chuckled softly. “I thought we already went over this?” he chided, reading her expression—likely one of mortification—correctly.

“How long did I sleep?” she asked, not wanting to think about her behavior.

“Not long—a half-hour.”

“I should get up.”

His arms tightened. “I will let you up when you promise me no more guilt or embarrassment.”

“I cannot promise that.”

“Why not?”

“Because—” She ground her teeth, choosing and discarding words, all of which sounded more embarrassing even in her own mind. “Just because.”

“Not good enough.”

“I can’t help feeling embarrassed.”

“Why?”

“Why?”

“Yes, why? And just because isn’t good enough.”

“Because ofthe way I just—just used you like that.”

His smile was slow and wicked. “Would it make you feel better if I used you the same way?”

Stacia thought her eyes might roll out of her head. “What? No!”

He grinned. “I will leave the offer open.”

She squirmed and this time, to her regret, he let her get away.

“Hungry?” he asked.

“Not really. You?”

“Not for food.”

Stacia frowned.

“I apologize for that remark,” he said.

“You don’t look very apologetic.” Indeed, his blue eyes glittered with poorly suppressed amusement.

“Would you like to play more vingt-et-un?”

Stacia eyed her cobnuts, which she had gathered up and put in a bowl, and the empty space on his side of the table. “You don’t have any more counters.”

“We don’t have to play for cobnuts.” He lifted one eyebrow.

“What do you mean?”

“There is other…currency.”

“Such as?”