A Light in the Window by Julie Lessman

Author:Julie Lessman
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Christian Fiction, Contemporary, Inspirational, Historical Romance, Historical Fiction, Christianity, Religious & Inspirational Fiction, Fiction, Romance, Historical, Religion & Spirituality, Christian Books & Bibles, Literature & Fiction
Publisher: Ten Talents Press
Published: 2012-11-09T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

Wrinkling her nose at the musty smell of the downstairs church storeroom, Marcy peered into the dark closet, holding her carbide gas lantern high enough to scour the third shelf for the Advent wreath Sister Francine asked her to fetch. Spider webs and mouse droppings did not lend a cozy feeling as she slapped at the back of the lace fluted collar of her fitted cream blouse, feeling a tickle she hoped was her imagination. Setting the lantern down on the floor, she buffed her full mutton sleeves and continued to browse until she spied the wreath on the third shelf.

Something warm feathered her neck and she jumped, whirling around with a squeak. Heart in her throat, she whacked a shaky hand to a rock-hard chest, the sight of Sam O’Rourke looming in the shadows doing nothing for her composure. “Sam O’Rourke, you scared me half to—”

His lips effectively silenced her until the thought that someone might catch them suddenly jolted, and Marcy quickly pushed him away. “I-am-going-to-box-your ears,” she said in a fractured whisper as breathless as she, failing in her attempt to dislodge his hands from her waist.

His low chuckle tickled her neck as his lips fondled the soft flesh of her ear. “I’d rather you focus on my mouth than my ears, Marceline,” he said in a husky tone, then promptly muzzled her with another kiss.

“Do you need help finding it, Miss Murphy?” Sister Francine’s distant shout filtered down the stairs into the dimly lit hall.

“No!” All blood drained from her face as she swatted at Sam’s hands on the way to the door. “I’ll be right there,” she called, grateful when Sister nodded and disappeared. Marcy spun around, two palms flat to Sam’s chest. “Sam O’Rourke, so help me—”

He squelched all protest with another kiss, hands sliding the length of her waist to slope the curve of her hip. “I am trying to help you, Marcy,” he whispered with a chuckle, “but you’re not making this easy.”

Breathless, she shoved him away, chest heaving as she plunked her hands on her hips. “For the love of decency, what is wrong with you? You’ve been a perfect gentleman until now, but so help me if you pull another stunt like this, you’ll crawl out of this closet with a black eye, is that clear?”

His teeth flashed white in the shadowed light, sparkling as much as the gleam in his eyes. “My apologies, Miss Murphy, but I’m not responsible for my actions when I have you alone in the dark.”

She batted him away, snatching the lantern up and holding it out. Using it as a barrier, she pointed to a shelf where a pinecone Advent wreath sat in a shallow box. “Make yourself useful, you scamp, and hand me that box, then tell me—please—that no one saw you come downstairs.”

“I assure you, no one knows I’m here except for Julie, who told me where you were.” He kissed her on the nose and reached for the wreath. “I slipped down the stairs while Sister Francine was ranting at several young ruffians from the choir.

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