He was going to kiss her again.
Embrace the here and now… Trust your heart…
Ambrosia nodded, unable to look anywhere but at him. At his eyes, which seemed to see right through her, and the hint of tiny wrinkles forming at the corners from laughter. At his high cheekbones, his slender nose, and his whiskers that, no matter how often he shaved, always seemed to shadow the line of his jaw.
At his lips.
And then those lips were descending upon hers.
Before, in the tent, she had kissed him. She’d drank a good deal of wine. It had been a secret kiss—a forbidden one.
This time, Dash was the one to pull her close.
And they were not alone. In fact, everyone, it seemed, was watching.
Encouraging them.
It began as a very gentle kiss. Sweet.
Ambrosia parted her lips and sighed into his mouth. His chest felt warm and solid beneath her hands. Always, always, she felt safe with him.
Trusting her heart, she slid her hands up and around his neck, at the same time his arms snaked around her waist.
This kiss would quite possibly be their last.
Ambrosia pressed herself closer to him and the kiss became more searching, deeper.
He tasted of ale and spice and flavors she’d never forget. He was Dash, Mr. Beckman, her dear Mr. Beckman.
Need spread from her chest to her center. She needed more from him. She needed closer. She simply… needed.
His tongue sparred with hers, playfully, and then not so playfully. His need seemed to rise with hers and the kiss felt almost desperate.
Blood roared in her ears, taking her to a different place, a different time. So much so that when he pulled away, breaking their connection, she was left feeling dreadfully bereft.
In that same moment she became aware of catcalls and whistles around them.
She opened her eyes and her heart… It trembled.
Dash’s eyes burned with desire for her. For Ambrosia Bloomington. She was not mistaken. She was not imagining it.
She could fall in love with this man.
Her pulse throbbed so loudly that she wondered how he couldn’t hear it as well.
“I like this tradition,” Dash admitted in a husky voice, the dancing humor returning to his eyes.
Ambrosia dropped her hands from where they’d been running through his hair, heat flooding her cheeks as several people in the crowd burst into laughter.
“I imagine he does!” Mr. Keller declared. And then tankards lifted all around them followed by a number of cheers.
And after that, Dash did not remove his arm from around her shoulders but kept her close beside him. Half of her meat pie sat on the table, but with the turmoil spinning around inside her, there was no way she would be able to eat anymore. He seemed to sense this.
“There is music playing at the other end of town. Shall we make our way closer to the entertainment?”
She could only nod and allow him to assist her to her feet. Her knees were a little wobbly, and she didn’t know if that was because of the ale she’d consumed or the effects of Dash’s kiss.
Holding hands, they meandered along the bustling line of vendors, stopping along the way to admire various items. She’d already purchased a few intricately embroidered handkerchiefs and found herself more impressed by some of the craftmanship.
