She carefully walks down the steps, one hand on the railing of the grand staircase and the other holding the skirts of her dress up. She feels oddly out of place. Gone are the plain t-shirts, baggy jeans and stringy hair. Her eyes are lined black, her lashes, long and curled and her ivory skin glows under beaming lights. Instead, in their place are pinned soft curls and a gown of radiant marigold chiffon. In this moment, Amy Cahill has never felt more like a princess in her life.

He waits at the end of the steps, one hand in his pocket and smoldering dark eyes watching every gentle swish and quiet click of her movement. He flashes her a heart-stopping smile that reminds her just how devastatingly handsome Ian Kabra can be (she vaguely recalls the incident where he confessed about his smile scale). Raven black hair falls softly over his head in a way that makes her ache to run her fingers through it. Dressed to masculine perfection in a gleaming tailored black suit and a crimson skinny tie, the Lucian oozes confidence and sophistication. Neither of which Amy feels at the moment – as pretty as the dress is.

"Lady Cahill," he winks teasingly, before sweeping into a smooth bow when she reaches him. "You have never looked more beautiful."

But still, she can't help the rosy tinge that once again graces her cheeks and shyly ducks her head. He lets out a low chuckle, before reaching forward to grasp her small hand and placing a feathery kiss on it. Though he barely touches her, a tingle still goes up her spine. She closes her eyes and swallows hard, ignoring the burgeoning heat that begins to coil at the pit of her stomach.

"I wish you would stop doing that."

"Doing what?" He pretends as he offers his arm.

"Flattering and flustering me," She touches her warm cheek for emphasis, looping her arm through his.

He throws his head back to laugh as they wade through fellow Cahills, smiling at some (her) and nodding at others (him). A few of their relatives stop to pause at the sight of the infamous Lucian leader with not only a smile on his face, but laughter as well. "That is one of my favorite things about you, love."

A frown forms on her face. "You always make me feel like I'm going to overheat."

He says nothing, but she doesn't need to look at him to know there is a proud smirk on display.

For weeks, Amy had begged Ian to let them host the annual Cahill Christmas party at his mansion in London. She had promised it would be a small occasion, just a few of their closest relatives. But apparently, Ian had later realized, small in Amy's definition meant a few hundred. While she and Natalie ran around planning, decorating and flying in relatives, Ian should have remembered that Amy had been itching to reunite the branches after the Vespers debacle.

Even so, as he gazes around his home for the first time tonight, she and his sister have given the Kabra mansion a magnificent, yet very festive facelift. Lustrous silver and gilded gold drape over every inch of the mansion, glistening under the glass chandeliers. Christmas music plays all around them as they walk toward the entrance of the mansion, contributing to the warm, lively atmosphere that Ian had never known growing up. An enormous Christmas tree stands proud and tall in the center of the foyer, the first family-oriented undertaking he and Natalie had ever done together. Their mother had always hired someone to decorate for them, but at Amy's insistence, everyone had gotten together to decorate it. Like a family.

Unexpectedly, Ian changes direction and steers them away from the door, her hand falling down to be held in his.

Amy glances behind her and looks back at him. "Where are we—"

Opening a door, he quickly moves inside, tugging her with him. It's pitch black until a light turns on and she winces at the brightness. "Ian, what are we doing in a closet?"

Ignoring her question, he steps closer, carefully avoiding her dress and cups her face with his hands. "Do you know why I love your blush?" His dark eyes stare intently at her, trapping her in their entrancing gaze.

She holds herself back from mentioning how he did always like to make her feel uncomfortable when they were younger, but now that they're dating... Amy has a feeling it's more about him wanting her to feel more than comfortable around him. But she shakes her head anyway.

His lips curl upward before he leans forward to blaze a trail of chaste kisses from her temple down to her jaw. She gladly welcomes back the familiar aching warmth that his delicious touch brings and she can't help the happy sigh that leaves her lips between his kisses. Her body automatically responding, she twines her arms around his neck and presses her lips against his. His mouth is wet, sinful and oh so good against hers and when her lips part, he pushes forward, eager for more of her.

The heat between their bodies becomes unbearable as he backs her against the wall and it becomes too hot in the closet. She idly wonders if they could maybe make a disappearing act. If she were to suddenly feign sickness…

His amused laugh breaks her train of thought. "We are not leaving the party already." And he kisses her disappointed, yet adorable pout. "You and Natalie worked too hard on this."

"And it's because I love how you glow." He suddenly murmurs after a moment, tucking a loose auburn curl behind her ear.

Viridian eyes stare back at him in confusion. "What?"

His lips quirk up in a playful way that makes her want to kiss him again. "When you blush," he patiently explains. "It's like you're glowing. I love knowing that I can affect you so." His thumb strokes her cheek and there's a softness in his eyes that she knows he only shows her.

Amy pulls back slightly, her face forming a frown. "I hate it."

"It's beautiful. I love that I can make you glow." This last part was a whisper against her lips, just before he claimed her lips in a searing kiss that made her heart go into overdrive and puts her senses on overload. Sometimes, she thinks that Ian is trying to kill her slowly.

When they finally break for air, she is sure her lipstick is ruined, but she's mostly thankful that he's holding her because her legs would have given out awhile ago.

Amy sighs against him, her face buried in the crook of his neck. The musky scent of his cologne tickles her nose, but she loves that the smell is uniquely his. His hands are warm against her bare back as they slide up and down, warding away the cool air that starts to return to the tiny closet.

"You do realize that everyone makes me blush, right?" She mumbles, cuddling closer to his warm body.

There's a short pause, before Ian tilts her chin up. "But not like I can," The predatory smile that dances on his face makes her as red as his tie.