Читать книгу A Little Christmas Magic - Алисон Робертс - Страница 3

‘Where did it come from?’ she asked. ‘Do you know? The tradition of kissing under the mistletoe, that is.’

Kissing …

Adam stared down at Emma. At the back of her head, where the light was creating those copper glints in her curls. He took a mouthful of his whisky.

‘It’s very old,’ he said. ‘I’ve heard that it got hung somewhere and the young men had the privilege of kissing the girls underneath it, but every time they did they had to pick one of the berries, and when the berries had all been picked the privilege ceased.’

Emma held up the half-finished wreath with its clusters of waxy white berries. ‘It’s got a lot of them,’ she said, tilting her head to smile up at Adam.

That did it. The magic was too strong to resist. Adam put his glass down and then reached out and plucked one of the tiny berries from the wreath.

Emma’s eyes widened. ‘You can’t do that,’ she objected. ‘You haven’t kissed a girl.’

Adam didn’t say anything. He just leaned down until there was no mistaking his intention.

And Emma didn’t turn her face away. If anything, she tilted her chin so that her lips parted, and for a heartbeat—and then two—she held his gaze.

There was surprise in those blue eyes. She hadn’t expected this. But, then, neither had Adam. And she could feel the magic, too—he was sure of that, because there was a kind of wonder in her eyes as well.

Joy was always lurking there, he suspected, but this was an invitation to share it. An invitation no man could resist.

The moment his lips touched Emma’s the tiny white berry fell from his fingers and rolled somewhere under the table. Adam wasn’t aware of dropping it. He was aware of nothing but the softness of Emma’s lips and the silky feel of her curls as he cupped her head in his hand. And then he was aware of a desire for more than this kiss. A fierce shaft of desire that came from nowhere and with more force than he’d ever felt in his life.