Читать книгу Rags-to-Riches Bride - Mary Nichols - Страница 2

The feel of his mouth on hers sent shock waves right through her.

Her knees began to tremble, and would have buckled if he had not been supporting her, holding her so close against him she could feel his warmth, turning her insides to liquid fire. She seemed to have left the ground, flying from all earthly things, all sensible thoughts. She wanted this man. She wanted the kiss to go on, to lead to other transports of delight she could only imagine. She clung to him, returning his kiss in full measure.

It was only then he realised what he was doing and released her. They stood facing each other, breathing heavily. Neither spoke. She did not condemn him; any sign of anger would be a pretence, and he must know it. Nor did he regret what he had done—though he did not know why he had done it, nor why a simple stolen kiss should have such a devastating effect on him. It had unnerved him. He opened his mouth but no words came from his lips. ‘Sorry’ seemed inadequate. She was lovely, and the temptation had been great, but that did not excuse him. Besides, he wasn’t sorry.