An Old Fashioned Romance

From Divine Deception by Marcia Lynn McClure

Without uttering a response he tore a strip from the fabric and placed it over Fallon’s eyes, tying it at the back of her head.

“What are you…” she began, but his bare hand caressing her cheek silenced the words in her throat. His touch, though forceful, masculine, was gentle and tantalizing, sending her unpleasant thoughts and memories of the cruel man from the store into oblivion.

As his hands caressed her cheeks, her neck, her forehead, he said, “Forget it, Fallon. Don’t think on it again.” She clutched his forearms to retain her balance as he took her shoulders and drew her closer to him. He stroked her cheek tenderly with his thumb. Then, as he held her face in his powerful hands, Fallon, for the first time, felt the softest caress of his lips as he kissed her cheek ever so lightly. Her knees weakened, buckled slightly, and she was humiliated when a small gasp escaped her lips. She wanted to throw herself into his embrace, to feel his warm, muscular form against her own, promising acceptance and safety. Instead her hands gripped his forearms tighter, afraid she might succumb to the desire to be held against him. His arms were solid as oak. She knew they would avert any harm that might threaten her in the future. He kissed her cheek, pressing his lips firmly against her flesh. Then he, or she, she didn’t know which, broke the barrier. Fallon fell against him and into his strong embrace. His mouth was hot and sweet, tinged with the flavor of peppermint when it hungrily seized her own. The feel of his mouth pressed to hers, taking hers, drinking of hers, rapt her in a divine sensation. She felt as though her very first life’s breath had filled her lungs, filling her body with some sort of heavenly nectar. His kiss was deliriously blissful! His embrace nearly crushed her, but she did not care.  The feel of it washed her with blessed security and safety.

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