Santa Brought A Son. Melissa Mcclone
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Reed’s eyes darkened. “Shall we?”
No. That’s the last thing she wanted to do. Now or ever.
But one brief kiss was nothing more than a holiday tradition. And it would mean a lot to Kelli. One peck wasn’t about to set the town gossips’ tongues wagging. Or change anything. Past, present, future. “Why not?”
She waited for Reed to take the lead. He lowered his mouth to hers. The moment his lips touched her, sensation rocketed through her. Electric shock, chemical reaction, you name it—she felt it. Talk about a swoonworthy kiss. If Reed hadn’t wrapped his arm around her she would have fallen. She waited for him to back away but he didn’t.
Stop, she should stop.
But kissing him felt so good. So right. So perfect.
He wasn’t stopping. She didn’t want to stop, either. His taste intoxicated her, a dangerous elixir that should be marked off-limits. His scent hadn’t changed over the years and reminded her of the magical kisses they’d shared before.
Memories rushed back. Buried emotions, too. The years faded. The distance between them seemed to disappear.
More, she wanted more.
She leaned into him. Reed took the hint and pulled her closer. Her breasts pressed against his firm chest. Strong, he was stronger than she remembered. This wasn’t a boy holding her but a man. She wished he never had to let go.
For the first time in a long while, she belonged. She could be Sam. Not Samantha. Not Mom…
Timmy.
What was she doing?
She jerked away. Applause filled the room. Samantha didn’t want to guess what shade of red her cheeks were at the moment. Most likely the same color as the holly-red tablecloths or roses in Kelli’s bridal bouquet. Thank goodness the lights had been turned down.
The applause continued. Reed bowed. Not to be outdone, she curtsied. If he was unaffected by the kiss and the attention, so was she. No matter she had trouble catching her breath and her hands trembled. Never mind it was all she could do not to run to the nearest exit.
“Sorry,” Samantha mumbled as she made her way back to their table. “Too much champagne.”
“No apology necessary, though I think the champagne had little to do with it.”
She froze. “What do you mean by that?”
“It’s called chemistry,” he whispered, and a shiver of delight inched down her spine.
“No.” She stepped away from him. “We simply got carried away.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time.”
His words sent heat coiling within her. No, she couldn’t let this happen. Not here. Not with Reed. Not again.
She tilted her chin. “But it’s going to be the last.”
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