An Old Fashioned Romance

From The Heavenly Surrender by Marcia Lynn McClure

“What?” Genieva breathed. She couldn’t believe what he was suggesting. “I couldn’t care less about what it feels like to be kissed by you, Brevan McLean. That is most assuredly the very last thing on my mind!” she lied.

Lowering his voice, he said, “Come now, lass. Let’s be havin’ us a kiss. Then we’ll both know that it’s not somethin’ we want to be wastin’ any more time considerin’. We’ll get more done that way, and ya won’t find yarself trippin’ over the laundry anymore.” Genieva shook her head, unbelieving, but he continued, “‘Tis the heat and lack of rain that’s got us on edge, ya know. Now let’s get this out of the way, so we’ll have one less thing pickin’ at our brains.”

“It’s not picking at my brain,” Genieva lied again. And it was, indeed, a lie, for she had spent many an hour during many a day daydreaming on the idea. Yet, as his charming smile brightened his face, Genieva was so entranced by his attractiveness, that when his head descended, his lips placing a light, but lingering kiss on her cheek, she did not move to escape him. Putting one hand lightly at her chin, Brevan tipped her head slightly and, for the first time, Genieva experienced the fascinating touch of his lips to her own. He kissed her lips softly and quickly several times in succession before gradually coaxing the intimate ritual into a deeply stirring and passionate exchange.

Genieva’s mind and body fought the complete elation threatening to overtake her common sense. Brevan’s kiss was dangerous to her mental stability. She had known that it would be. Yet, she had dreamt of it at night, thought of it in daylight, and she had wanted to experience it since the moment she had first seen him almost two weeks before. His body was warm and solid—his mouth hot and convincing in its endeavor to prove to her that her dreams could not compare to the reality of him.

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