bare shoulders.
They both held their breaths. Elisabeth closed her eyes to savour the feeling of his hands on her skin, and then opened them again because she didn’t want to miss a single instant of seeing him.
Slowly he slid his palms down the length of her arms. She could feel every hair raise itself into goose-bumps.
Their hands met, and their fingers twined together.
Elisabeth, with some far-flung rational corner of her brain, marvelled at herself. She was standing close to Angus MacAllister, holding his hands, looking frankly into his face. In a refrigerator. Where someone could come in any minute, looking for tomatoes or something.
And it felt wonderful.
Despite her high heels, he was still taller than her. She stood on her toes, stretched up her face, and met his mouth as he leaned down to her.
His lips were warmer than she would have imagined in this cold room. Gentle, and sweet, and lingering. He felt wholly other to her, totally masculine, unlike anything she’d felt before. And yet familiar, as if she’d been waiting for him.
Time passed, the two of them with hands linked, lips pressed together. Not exploring, not moving—just touching, this first time.
When they broke apart Elisabeth felt as if her eyes were shining.
Their kiss had been innocent and romantic. Like the kiss in a fairy tale that woke up the sleeping princess. And she felt awake, aware, buzzing with the possibilities of the present.
Angus swallowed. ‘Wow,’ he said.
‘Wow,’ she said back.
‘I’ve been waiting to kiss you for a while. But I didn’t expect—’
‘I thought it would be—’ She thought of the word. Not sexier, because it had been the sexiest thing she’d ever experienced. ‘More carnal.’
He nodded. ‘I feel like I should recite some poetry or something.’ He brought her hands up to his chest and stroked the backs of them with his thumbs.
‘If you’re having urges to recite poetry, I think you’d better kiss me again.’
She lifted her hands from his and buried them in his glossy hair. Angus curled his fingers around her hips, pulled her closer.
And she knew that their kiss hadn’t been innocent at all, because this close she could feel the hard ridge of his erection through their clothes.
White-hot desire rushed through her and she pulled his head down and kissed Angus as if she wanted to devour him.
Firm lips, hard, smooth teeth, just crooked on the bottom. Rough tongue, the satin of inside his mouth.
Angus groaned and lifted her so that she was still closer to him, her toes barely touching the floor. And then his hands were sliding up her back, down over her bottom, burning fingerprints on her even through her clothes.
Touching his hair wasn’t enough. Elisabeth put her hands on his shoulders, as she’d been dying to, stroked the soft material of his suit. Down his arms and to his hips.
His mouth was wonderful. Their kisses were fierce and desperate. And with him holding her like this, Elisabeth could feel every inch of his body against her, as lithe and strong as she’d thought it would be.
They were going to get caught any minute. But she needed more. She let her hand fall to the curve of his backside and dug her fingers into his firm flesh. Angus made a rough sound in his throat, pulled up her leg around his hip, and she felt him pushing even harder against her. With her thigh lifted around him, her dress riding up, her sex rubbed intimately against his erection.
They were in a refrigerator, and she felt as if she were burning up.
When they broke apart, their breaths came in jagged clouds.
‘Now that was carnal,’ she gasped.
‘I was turned on by romantic, too.’ He dropped another kiss on her lips, touched his tongue to hers briefly before parting to look in her eyes again.
‘I noticed,’ she said, letting her gaze fall to where their crotches were glued together.
He let his hand creep underneath the hem of her skirt, rest on the back of her thigh.
‘Trust me
They both held their breaths. Elisabeth closed her eyes to savour the feeling of his hands on her skin, and then opened them again because she didn’t want to miss a single instant of seeing him.
Slowly he slid his palms down the length of her arms. She could feel every hair raise itself into goose-bumps.
Their hands met, and their fingers twined together.
Elisabeth, with some far-flung rational corner of her brain, marvelled at herself. She was standing close to Angus MacAllister, holding his hands, looking frankly into his face. In a refrigerator. Where someone could come in any minute, looking for tomatoes or something.
And it felt wonderful.
Despite her high heels, he was still taller than her. She stood on her toes, stretched up her face, and met his mouth as he leaned down to her.
His lips were warmer than she would have imagined in this cold room. Gentle, and sweet, and lingering. He felt wholly other to her, totally masculine, unlike anything she’d felt before. And yet familiar, as if she’d been waiting for him.
Time passed, the two of them with hands linked, lips pressed together. Not exploring, not moving—just touching, this first time.
When they broke apart Elisabeth felt as if her eyes were shining.
Their kiss had been innocent and romantic. Like the kiss in a fairy tale that woke up the sleeping princess. And she felt awake, aware, buzzing with the possibilities of the present.
Angus swallowed. ‘Wow,’ he said.
‘Wow,’ she said back.
‘I’ve been waiting to kiss you for a while. But I didn’t expect—’
‘I thought it would be—’ She thought of the word. Not sexier, because it had been the sexiest thing she’d ever experienced. ‘More carnal.’
He nodded. ‘I feel like I should recite some poetry or something.’ He brought her hands up to his chest and stroked the backs of them with his thumbs.
‘If you’re having urges to recite poetry, I think you’d better kiss me again.’
She lifted her hands from his and buried them in his glossy hair. Angus curled his fingers around her hips, pulled her closer.
And she knew that their kiss hadn’t been innocent at all, because this close she could feel the hard ridge of his erection through their clothes.
White-hot desire rushed through her and she pulled his head down and kissed Angus as if she wanted to devour him.
Firm lips, hard, smooth teeth, just crooked on the bottom. Rough tongue, the satin of inside his mouth.
Angus groaned and lifted her so that she was still closer to him, her toes barely touching the floor. And then his hands were sliding up her back, down over her bottom, burning fingerprints on her even through her clothes.
Touching his hair wasn’t enough. Elisabeth put her hands on his shoulders, as she’d been dying to, stroked the soft material of his suit. Down his arms and to his hips.
His mouth was wonderful. Their kisses were fierce and desperate. And with him holding her like this, Elisabeth could feel every inch of his body against her, as lithe and strong as she’d thought it would be.
They were going to get caught any minute. But she needed more. She let her hand fall to the curve of his backside and dug her fingers into his firm flesh. Angus made a rough sound in his throat, pulled up her leg around his hip, and she felt him pushing even harder against her. With her thigh lifted around him, her dress riding up, her sex rubbed intimately against his erection.
They were in a refrigerator, and she felt as if she were burning up.
When they broke apart, their breaths came in jagged clouds.
‘Now that was carnal,’ she gasped.
‘I was turned on by romantic, too.’ He dropped another kiss on her lips, touched his tongue to hers briefly before parting to look in her eyes again.
‘I noticed,’ she said, letting her gaze fall to where their crotches were glued together.
He let his hand creep underneath the hem of her skirt, rest on the back of her thigh.
‘Trust me
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