In her mind’s eyes, she didn’t see the tablecloth nor her fidgeting fingers. She was witnessing a much more disturbing vision. She was recalling the dance last night, when she had almost allowed Alex D’Amour to kiss her—again! Was she going batty? What had possessed her to lift her chin in invitation? She was angry with herself for her rashness. The romantic lighting, or the soft music, or the gaiety of the party must have made her lower her guard. Thank heaven, at the last second she’d managed to push him away and march off in a huff—however shaky her legs may have been. His irritating expression lingered in her brain. That sardonic grin. Clearly he’d decided he could come to town, take away her home, her business and—and have his way with her as a little bonus! She had a pretty good idea he didn’t think that, now. The only thing she’d said to him since the dance had been a muttered, “How do you carry the weight of your conceit around with you all day?” She heard a scraping sound and realized she was no longer alone.
What do You think about Her Mistletoe Husband (2011)?
