The Devil and Miss Jones. Kate Walker

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      ‘There.’

      With the new sensations buzzing inside her it felt almost as if she had been set free, released from something that was more than just the restrictions of the wedding finery. She’d hit the lowest point just hours before. And if that was the lowest point in her life then surely the only way was up.

      ‘Now I can move on—leave it all behind me. You know, I’m not running away but going forward—getting away from what would have been a terrible mistake, starting again.’

      She moved forward to take hold of them. But the new lightening of her mood pushed her feet further than she had anticipated, the lift in her spirits making her almost dance towards him. And suddenly she was on tiptoe, leaning forwards, reaching up to plant an impulsive kiss on the lean plane of his cheek.

      ‘Thank you!’

      And that was when everything changed. When it seemed as if the world stood still, the countryside freezing around her in the same moment that her breath stopped in her lungs. The birds in the trees stopped singing, the wind stilled in the branches, dropping into sudden silence. The skin of his face was cold and damp against her mouth, the taste of his skin suddenly intense and smoky against her tongue. She was frozen where she stood, looking up into his eyes so that she saw the sudden darkness in them, the way that the irises had expanded until there was only the tiniest line of deep green at the rim.

      She read what was coming in those eyes. Read it and welcomed it, her heart kicking sharply against her ribcage as she held her breath. She didn’t have to wait long. His arms came round her, warm and tight, strong as steel bands, lifting her even further off the tarmac and crushing her firmly against the powerful toned shape of his chest. His head came down fast, his mouth coming over her own, hot and hard, demanding and powerful. Her lips were crushed, parting slightly on a gasp of shocked response as she gave herself up to the pressure of that kiss.

      She had never known anything like it, she recognised hazily, struggling to bring her thoughts under any sort of control. Never experienced a kiss—or a response—like this at any other time in her life. She had kissed, of course. Kissed and been kissed, but it had never been anything like this. And the caresses she had exchanged with Gavin had been like tepid water when compared with this deluge of red-hot lava swamping her, taking her control, her senses and her ability to think at all rationally with it. Her heart was pounding, her head whirling.