Knight and Sleigh: An Erotic Lucien Knight Christmas Novella by Kitty French

folded back the cuffs for her, acquiescing.  
    ‘I know what you’re trying to do, Princess,’ he said, as an afterthought, letting her know he was not fooled by her for a moment.  
    ‘Then let me.’  
    Sophie stood on tiptoe and laid her hand on his cheek as she kissed him, loving and languid. ‘I love you,’ she said, holding him close, soothing, and then easing back. ‘Now go and get me a glass of wine while I finish this.’  
    She watched him walk away towards the kitchen, the lone wolf inked across his golden back shifting as his muscles moved. God, she loved him.  
    ‘You’re not on your own any more,’ she whispered, knowing he wouldn’t hear her but hoping he knew it anyhow.  
     
    The brand new julebukk Lucien had placed on the mantel that morning now had a straw friend in the form of its much more well handled compatriot, and Lucien had spent the hours before dinner going through the other boxes in the trunk. The one marked Personal effects still sat unopened as they finished their bottle of wine on the sofa after dinner. He pulled it towards them resolutely and lifted the lid, revealing a stack of photograph albums.  
    ‘We don’t have to,’ Sophie said right away, already anticipating that it might be too much.  
    Lucien slid down onto the floor and picked up the first album, his back against the sofa where Sophie lay propped up on one elbow looking over his shoulder.  
    ‘It’s okay,’ he said, opening the book on his slanted thighs. He turned his head and kissed her hand where it rested on his shoulder, then lifted the layer of protective tissue to look at the black and white photographs beneath it. Baby photos, his mother cradling him in her arms on the doorstep when she came home from the hospital. His second birthday party. His first day at kindergarten, satchel in hand.  
    He shared snippets about the people in the images as he flipped the pages; friends, family, and most of all about his parents. She learned the little things that were really the big things; that he’d lost both of his front teeth in a sledging incident when he was five years old, that his faithful husky had slept on his bed, and she saw him laughing as he played in a crystal clear mountain lake in summertime, his mother flailing her arms in the air as he splashed her. The ordinary innocence of the pictures moved her greatly, simple moments captured before the family ruptured and Lucien’s life had changed forever. Seeing them helped Sophie to understand him more, as if he’d swung open the door to his ice fortress and invited her to come and look inside.  
    ‘You look so alike there,’ she said, reaching down and touching the final image in the album.  
     She’d seen the same picture on the desk at Lucien's lodge when he'd first brought her to Norway a little over twelve months ago; a snow scene, mother and son looking straight into the photographer’s lens and laughing. Had his father taken it? She didn’t ask. His memories of his mother were mostly happy ones, but as can often be the case with strong-willed fathers and sons, that relationship had been difficult.  
    Closing the album and returning it to the box, Lucien placed the lid on the contents and picked up a brandy glass from beside him.  
    ‘Thank you,’ he said quietly, his eyes on the flames.  
    ‘You don’t need to say that.’ Sophie sat up behind him and massaged his broad, strong shoulders.  
    ‘I wouldn’t have opened the boxes,’ he said, reflective as he rolled the glass slowly between his palms. ‘I didn’t think remembering could be anything but painful.’  
    ‘It’s the story of you,’ she said, running her hand over his hair. ‘I’m glad you let me see it.’  
    He watched the fire in silence, then placed his emptied glass down and twisted around to look up at her.  
    ‘You’re my story now.’  
    She laid her hand on his cheek and leaned down to kiss him.  
    ‘It’s going to be a really long book,’