Lucky Stars (Ghosts and Reincarnation #5)(14)

If her father was a big personality and Gram was a character, what happened to her?

She didn’t know why she said what she said next. Maybe it was the sea, the puppies, the several glasses of champagne she had at the party.

Or maybe it was just him.

But she said it.

“I used to wish I was like her,” Belle confided softly. “She and my Mom are cut from the same cloth. They light up a room.”

Forgetting her fear of heights, she walked to the edge and leaned her shoulder against the door, losing herself in the view and kept talking.

“Once when I was young, we visited my great-grandmother in a retirement home. It was the first time Gram and I visited her after Gram moved her in there. We walked in and it was dreary. Depressing.” Her voice dropped even lower. “You wouldn’t believe it.”

Belle shut her eyes against the memory, opened them and forged on.

“I remember Gram taking one look at all those old people in their bleak rec room and muttering, ‘This will not do.’ Then she dug in her purse and pulled out her bag of lemon drops. To this day, she always carries a bag of lemon drops.” This last came out in a barely there whisper.

She twisted her head to look at him and saw he was watching her, his arms crossed on his chest, his face so gentle and striking she had to look away so she’d have the courage to continue.

Belle pulled in a breath and watched a wave break against the jagged rocks of the shore before she went on.

“Anyway,” she said in a brighter voice, “she went around the whole room offering the old folks lemon drops, telling jokes, laughing and talking and livening up the room. That’s all it took. Gram and a bag of lemon drops.”

When he spoke, his voice was closer and her body jerked in surprise as she turned to see he was again at her side.

“There are many ways to light up a room.”

He would, she thought, know all about that. His magnetic beam probably entered a room ten minutes before he got to the door.

“Some women,” he continued, “light up a room just wearing an extraordinary dress.”

She looked away and nodded in agreement. “Like Yasmin.”

“Yes, like Yasmin. Though Yasmin’s dress tonight doesn’t come close to the one you’re wearing.”

Belle’s body jerked again and her head twisted around to look at him. It did this so quickly she thought she might have pulled something.

Before she could assess if she needed medical attention, he finished softly, “And she didn’t design hers.”

Something was happening.

She knew this because he was getting even closer.

Panic ensued, quickly chased by hysteria. She moved back but her shoulders were against the door and one side fell away to nothing so she froze in sheer terror.

His hands came to her waist and he moved directly into her space. So into it, her space evaporated and their space took its place.

“James –” she began in a warning protest, her voice trembling.

“Jack,” he muttered as his head bent, his hands sliding around her waist to her back, his fingers putting pressure there so her body touched his.

And then he kissed her.

Kissed her.

Belle couldn’t believe it.

His mouth on hers was firm and warm and his hands at her back were burning into her flesh. She felt the trill up her spine, the tingle along her scalp, her belly flipping then warming.

All this felt good. It felt thrilling. It felt like something she wanted more of (a lot more).

Still, she put her hands to his arms, gave a good shove and pulled her mouth away from his.

“We can’t,” she told him but her voice was oddly breathy.

“We can,” he replied instantly.

“No,” she said.

“Yes,” he returned then his arms tightened around her so her body wasn’t touching his. It was plastered against it. His head slanted and his mouth came down on hers again this time harder, warmer, insistent.

She opened her mouth to protest, her fingers curling at his arms and his tongue slid inside.

The minute his tongue touched hers, her entire body responded. Heat shot through it and her knees went weak then buckled. She felt her belly plummet, a quiver of excitement shot between her legs and her body melted into his.

Without thought to anything, not Miles, Joy, good manners or her own sanity, Belle kissed him back. Her hands slid up and around his neck and she pressed closer to the heat of his hard body.

He felt her response immediately (he couldn’t exactly miss it) and he pushed his advantage, deepening the kiss, tightening his arms, one hand sliding up her side and stopping then his fingers began to stroke the side of her breast.

That, Belle thought hazily, felt good.

Very good.

So good, Belle felt her br**sts swell, her ni**les harden and she moaned right into his mouth.

It was then she realised that he’d been controlling the kiss.

She knew this because it was also then when he lost control of it.

His head came up and before she could think, he stepped back twice, dragging her with him.

When he stopped them, his head came back down, their mouths collided and this kiss was wild. It was coupled with bodies pressing closer, hands gliding. His jacket fell from her shoulders and Belle didn’t even notice.

The world had dissolved.