My Summer of Magic Moments: Uplifting and romantic - the perfect, feel good holiday read!. Caroline Roberts

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СКАЧАТЬ lick at the paper and the stack of sticks in the hearth.

      ‘So that’s what I could smell from across this way this morning. Homemade bread.’

      The fire began crackling around the kindling and paper, its glow already beginning to take the chill off the room. She headed to the kitchen, taking the matches with her, and lit the stove to warm the soup. She cut slices of soft, crusty bread and spread it thickly with butter. Within five minutes, she was bringing it all back in on a tray.

      ‘Good dry logs,’ he commented.

      The fire was now flaming gold and orange, its warmth starting to thaw the room. She handed him a mug of vegetable soup, passed the bread, then sat down beside him cross-legged on the floor, but her jeans were sodden and getting cold, clinging roughly to her legs. Damn, she should have changed them when she was upstairs, but she didn’t want to move away from this lovely fire, the warm mug of soup. She put her mug down and stood up, pausing for a second. Oh, sod it, they were coming off. She wrapped the towel around her waist, then undid the button and zip.

      ‘Hope you don’t mind, but these jeans are soaking wet still.’

      ‘Doesn’t worry me.’ He took a gulp of soup, his eyes crinkling with amusement.

      She slid the jeans down and off. Ah, that was so much better. She could thaw out properly now. The towel covered her knees at least.

      ‘Better?’ He was smiling. He seemed surprisingly relaxed. It was as if the real Ed was finally showing through.

      ‘Better.’ She took back her mug of soup and sipped, beginning to warm both inside and out.

      So here she was, sitting in her cottage by a roaring log fire with an undoubtedly attractive man, who was dressed in a towel, jogging shirt and shorts, whilst she had on only pants, bra and a long-sleeved T-shirt under her towel. Weirdly, it felt okay.

      He dunked thick chunks of bread into his mug. ‘This is really good.’

      ‘Thanks.’

      ‘So you know how to light a fire now?’

      ‘Yep. You learn something new every day.’

      ‘Indeed.’ He sipped. ‘You’ll need that life skill in here. It’s a bloody wreck of a place. Don’t know how you’ve lasted so long, to be honest. Had you down for a few days max at the start.’

      ‘Ah, did you now? I’m made of hardier stuff than that.’

      ‘Yes, I can tell.’

      Was that a hint of admiration in his tone? Bloody hell! What had happened to Mr Grumpy? Had he gone and got a personality transplant over the weekend, or had the rain washed away his ill humour?

      As he leaned across to put another log on the fire, his foot brushed hers, sending little electrical pulses through her. She wasn’t wearing any trousers, her sensible head reminded her. Thank God she’d shaved her legs this morning. She’d better go and get some dry clothes on as soon as. She didn’t know quite what had come over her; she wouldn’t normally strip off her trousers in front of a man she scarcely knew. But she was just getting warm again, enjoying his company, and didn’t want to move quite yet. Didn’t want to go upstairs and break the spell.

      When he settled back down, his foot lay there touching her own.

      ‘This is cosy,’ he said, matter of fact.

      ‘Ah-hah,’ she agreed. A tense feeling came over her. Anticipation?

      He held her gaze for a second or two, then smiled. God, he had a lovely smile – nice white teeth, soft lips, a suggestion of manly stubble on his upper lip and chin. Why on earth had he kept that smile hidden? Maybe he had a lot of pressures at work, came here to get away from it all. It took him a while to wind down, obviously, considering how cool he’d been the last few times they’d met.

      ‘What do you do for a living?’ Claire piped up.

      ‘I’m an architect. I have a practice in Edinburgh.’

      ‘Ah, interesting. Designing buildings and the like, then.’

      ‘Yes, I do all sorts, but the bread-and-butter stuff is the smaller work, like house extensions, new builds. Often where they want something unique. What about you?’

      ‘Journalist. I work for the local press down in Newcastle. It’s pretty low-key, but I love it, most of the time. You get to meet lots of different people.’

      ‘Sounds interesting.’

      ‘Sometimes it can be. But other times I’m raking about looking for stories, interviewing people about their pet dogs or the latest parking rises. It’s not all glamour and paparazzi, especially not in North Tyneside.’

      ‘Is this just a holiday for you, then?’

      ‘Yes …’ She faltered. ‘I – I’ve taken a bit of leave …’ She didn’t want to start going into the reasons why. And he was polite enough not to ask further. ‘It’s a great place here – the beach and everything,’ she clarified, in case he thought she was some kind of nutter who loved living in a hovel.

      ‘Yes,’ he answered, then went quiet. He seemed to be thinking.

      It felt odd that they were huddled in towels with only centimetres between them. The fire was crackling away, giving a golden glow, throwing out its heat now. He turned to her. Stared at her seriously, intently. She held his gaze, noticing the green of his eyes, the tiny flecks of yellow close to the pupil, but then had to look down. There was something too intense about it.

      When she looked up again, his face was closer to hers. The whole atmosphere in the room had changed. And suddenly this moment felt like it was where they were both meant to be. No time for thinking – she moved her mouth to meet his. Gentle at first, then hungry. His lips tasted salty from the bread, from the sweat from his run.

      They were kissing harder, passionately. She kneeled up, wanting to feel him nearer, pressing her chest against his. This contact, this sensuality, was so powerful. She had been on her own for so long in her world of fear and illness and betrayal. But hey, was this really happening? Stuff like this didn’t happen to her, Claire Maxwell – this was like some movie scene. Don’t overthink it … Go with it Claire, a little voice cheered her on.

      His lips were still on hers, his hands stroking through her hair, tugging sensually, and then she felt his strong arms around her back, closing her towards him. Her towel fell away, though she was still wearing her damp top. Her inner tension began to melt. She felt safe in his arms. Nothing mattered but this kiss. Unexpected, yet so natural. So needed. Two people caught in a storm.

      And this was so turning her on, the warmth flowing right down to her thighs. Wow, she hadn’t felt like this in such a long time. His erection matched her desire – she could feel him hard, nudging against her hip.

      Oh God – she couldn’t just … could she? She’d been with her husband for six years, and had had only a couple of boyfriends before that. She’d never had a one-night stand. And she didn’t really know this guy. She knew he was fit and had the body of a god, had seen his taut thighs, muscled chest, and boy, so much more. Was that enough of a reason? Hell, yes, what are you waiting for? СКАЧАТЬ