Penny Jordan - A Spanish Christmas

What was the matter with her? Just because he was totally and undeniably male … just because … just because her head felt dizzy and her legs felt weak and her heart was pounding— bounding helplessly from one beat to another like a newborn foal finding its legs—that didn’t mean … that didn’t …

‘Christian, is Meg all right?’

Elena’s voice seemed to reach her from a long way away. Like a drowning man, Meg clung to it, forcing herself to remember where she was and why.

If this was a film, right now its audience would be in no doubt at all about what would happen next. But it wasn’t a film, she reminded herself fiercely as she realised that Christian had released her wrist and she was free to escape from him and the dangerous sorcery of the spell his proximity had woven around her.

Get a grip, for goodness’ sake, she berated herself mentally as she hurried towards Elena’s wheelchair. It was totally unlike her to react like this and she couldn’t understand why she was behaving so idiotically.

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