Читать книгу Christmas Where She Belongs - Meredith Webber, Meredith Webber - Страница 3

Somehow Clancy was in his arms, dirt and all, and as he held her body close to his the tension drained out of him, to be replaced by a gladness he had no idea how to explain.

So he kissed her instead of trying for words—kissed her lips, her chin, her eyelids, showering kisses on her face, not daring to move lower because there was more heat in him than in the overly hot attic.

And Clancy was kissing him back, her lips finding bits of his skin, pressing against it, murmuring all the time—wordless sounds that were music to his ears.

His hands roamed across her back, feeling the flat planes of her shoulderblades, the fine, sharp bones of her spine, the padding on her backside that had teased him as he’d climbed the stairs.

‘We promised Helen,’ she finally reminded him, ‘and anyway, this is daft. We barely know each other.’

He eased back so he could look into her face.

‘I know you, Willow Clancy. You’re as soft and sheltering as the tree whose name you bear, yet tenacious too, your roots deep in the earth, so you stay upright while floods rage around you. It isn’t time we need in order to know about each other—you know that as well as I do, because we knew each other when we met. As if fate had worked it out. Whether that’s a good thing is another matter altogether.’