The Kidnapped Christmas Bride by Isabella Hargreaves

Author:Isabella Hargreaves
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Regency romance, Historical romance, Second-chance love, Friends-to-lovers, Kidnap romance, My best friends sister, My brothers best friend
Publisher: Isabella Hargreaves
Published: 2024-04-26T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Four

Flooded in! Entirely cut off! If the waters didn’t go down tomorrow she would definitely miss her wedding.

Bubbles of relief rose within her, then burst. Relief! How can that be? What is wrong with me? Her unexpected reaction surprised her. She wanted to marry Samuel Jenkins. Didn’t she? These emotions were too confusing...and unsettling.

A future without the refuge of marriage to Samuel left her at the mercy of her elder brother and his manipulative wife. She dreaded that.

Her old attraction to Alistair tugged at her but seemed almost as hopeless as it had ever been. He seems to have changed, but has he really? He has a long history of wildness. I can’t be with Alistair. He’s not settled or reliable enough. As if he would even propose! Besides, he’s had his chance.

Their first kiss was an indelible memory in her mind. She had just finished boarding school and, at almost eight and ten years old, was ready for her come-out during the London Season. Her mother was still alive and her father hale and hearty. Alistair had been a year older than her. He and Edward were home for Christmas having spent their first term at Oxford University.

Elizabeth had fallen for her brother’s friend, with his easy smile and his charming manner. The three of them shared long walks through Farley Hall’s snow-covered estate, Margaret with one hand in the crook of her brother’s arm and the other in Alistair’s.

On their last day together before the men returned to Oxford, Edward had been called to his father’s study just as the trio set out on their final walk. Alistair and Margaret continued onward. Arm-in-arm, they followed their favorite pathway through the wilderness walk, expecting Edward to catch up with them. He never did.

As they retraced their steps to the house, Alistair had halted Margaret under a spreading oak tree and taken her hands in his. “I’ll miss you,” he said, his voice warm and alluring like her favorite breakfast chocolate.

“And I, you,” she whispered. The feelings Alistair evoked in her had at first surprised her. Now she embraced them and held them dear.

He had leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on her lips.

She returned the pressure. Wild, unfamiliar excitement had raced through her veins, lighting her up on the inside.

Alistair had kissed her again, his lips warm and questing. She had answered him.

His arms slid around her waist and eased her nearer, all the time his lips brushing and stroking hers. Her cheeks were on fire, her body humming with energy. She stepped closer.

His arms tightened around her, encircling her in a warm and comforting embrace.

She had pressed closer. One of his hands moved higher, while the other slid lower to rest on her derriere. She wanted more contact.

Simultaneously, their mouths opened, allowing more exploration of each other. His tongue slid along hers. A tremor cascaded through her.

Their tongues had spoken in ways Margaret had never conceived of. He was so much more experienced than her. Eager to respond to his every suggestion, she practiced this new language.

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