He slouched in the wingback chair facing the crackling fire, glowering, reluctant to admit his sins. He clutched a cut-glass tumbler in his grip, half-filled with liquor that did nothing to numb his drumming heart or his heated blood. He was hard and aching for her, and he hadn’t even touched her beyond a brief press on her arm. Yet his entire body pounded for release. His limbs were taut, and muscles strained from the tension. Last evening’s kiss in the hall ran through his mind again. He closed his eyes, savoring the image. Wishing to make merry with the delicious widow under her family’s noses, he was an absolute cad. His eyes snapped open. She was angry with him. Livid, really. She’d snapped at him, eyes blazing and lips tight. She hadn’t even given him a chance to explain. He’d been trying to confess his feelings for her, blast it all. With a grunt, he brought the glass to his lips and drained it, savoring the burn of the liquor as it slid down his throat and settled in his stomach with a warm glow.
What do You think about Her Christmas Pleasure (2011)?
