Читать книгу Her Enemy At The Altar - Virginia Heath - Страница 2

Kissing Aaron Wincanton was nothing like she’d expected kissing to be.

Not only did she feel it on her lips, she felt it in her legs as well. They were oddly unsteady. Connie did not notice the passing of time, nor exactly when the kiss changed into something more visceral, but one moment she was standing in his arms, upset, and the next she was almost reclining on the sofa, with her hands fisted in his dark hair and his large, warm palm sliding over the silk of her stockings until it rested scandalously on the bare skin above her garter. It felt glorious to be wanted this way, and by a man who had no interest in her dowry or her prospects.

He was kissing her.

Connie.

And she could tell by the way his breathing was ragged and the way his heart hammered against his ribs that he was as lost in the kiss as she. Finally she was attractive and desirable to someone. She felt beautiful and womanly and alive.