And then, without warning, he dipped his head. ‘Happy Christmas, Jo.’
She pursed her lips for a quick peck and let her body tilt forward. But the anticipated peck didn’t take place.
Instead Hugh’s lips settled warmly on hers and suddenly he was kissing her. Properly. Or she was kissing him? It no longer mattered. All that mattered was that it was a full-on kiss.
She could blame the champagne. Or the heat. No, she would blame Hugh, because he was far too gorgeous and far too expert at kissing. There had to be some logical reason to explain how a simple mistletoe kiss became so thorough and lasted for such a long and lovely time.
Yes, she would blame Hugh because at some point his hands slipped around her waist, and then it was incredibly easy and seemed perfectly OK to nestle in against him. His arms bound her close against his strong, intensely masculine body and his mouth, tasting faintly of coffee, delved hers expertly and with daring intimacy.
Without warning, a flood of unexpected yearning washed over her. Her insides went into meltdown. Soft, hungry little sounds rumbled low in her throat as she pushed closer into Hugh.
Oh, man. Never had she experienced a kiss that was so instantly shattering.
The sound of footsteps brought her plummeting back to earth. With a little whimper of disappointment, she broke away.
Hugh let her go and he stood very still with his shoulders squared and his hands by his sides, watching her intently and not quite smiling. Only his accelerated breathing betrayed that he’d been as aroused by the kiss as she had.
Taking a deep breath, Jo shot a scowl back over her shoulder to see who’d interrupted them.
It was Bill and Eric and their mouths were hanging wide open.
‘What’s eating you two?’ she demanded angrily. ‘Haven’t you ever seen someone get kissed under the mistletoe before?’
Eric’s face was sheepish. ‘Not like that.’
‘Get lost,’ she said, feeling flustered. ‘Finish those dishes.’
They vanished. Which left her with Hugh, who’d gone quiet again. In fact he was looking so uncomfortable that she wondered suddenly if he regretted the kiss. Damn him. He’d probably only kissed her to get closer to her—to ensure that she would accompany him to Agate Downs.
But he’d been so passionate, so involved.
Good grief. She was trying to read too much into the kiss. Hugh had simply reacted to the Christmas tradition. And she’d been carried away. Look how calm he was now.
Nevertheless, their easy conversation was over. They carried their coffee cups back to the kitchen and soon afterwards Hugh said polite farewells and set off for the pub. He left without any special word for Jo.
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