Page 165 of A Winter By the Sea
She nodded, heart rate accelerating. “That, and you are well-read.”
His lips quirked and his gaze swept over her face—her eyes,her cheeks, her mouth. The admiration in his deep brown eyes was evident even as his expression remained serious. He slowly leaned in, bringing his face close to hers. He glanced into her eyes again to gauge her reaction, and whatever he saw there emboldened him to lean nearer yet, his lips a hairsbreadth away.
In a throaty whisper, she teased, “I would also addhandsome, but I don’t wish for you to become vain.”
He chuckled and pressed his lips to hers. All thoughts of teasing fled. The sweet pressure filled her with longing, and she returned it, kissing him back. He wrapped an arm around her, holding her close, while warmth and pleasure flooded her every inch.
Her first kiss.
She had read so many novels and poems that described a heroine rendered breathless and weak-kneed by the hero’s kiss, and she had been skeptical. Emily now knew those descriptions had not been exaggerated in the least.
James finally pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against hers.
“Emily, you don’t know how much ...”
“I do know.”
“I should not have kissed you. I will be here for a few more days, and then I am supposed to follow the others. I don’t want to be another man who raises your hopes and then disappoints you.”
Emily did not want that either. Her chest ached at the thought, her beleaguered heart beginning to crack.
31
It must have been a source of great satisfaction to Wallis that Marsh was declared bankrupt.
—Ian Maxted inSix Centuries of the Provincial Book Trade in Britain
Emily entered Marsh’s Library and Public Rooms carrying the pages of Mr. Gwilt’s story in a plain paper folder. Mr. Marsh had not told her he was ready to read it, but Emily did not want him to forget his promise now that he was done editing the new Sidmouth guide.
When she pushed through the door, the first thing she noticed was how quiet it was. She supposed that after the recent royal deaths, few people were interested in new novels to read. Although she would have thought his selection of newspapers from around the country would be much in demand at such a time.
Stepping inside, she saw Mr. Marsh at his desk, staring off into space, a strange look on his face.
“Good day, Mr. Marsh.”
He startled at the sound of her voice.
Had he been concentrating on something so deeply thathe’d not heard her enter? On the desk before him lay a low pile of folded, printed sheets.
“That’s not the new guide, is it?” she asked.
“An early proof copy. I’ve just approved it.”
“Already?” She had thought he would allow her to review the proof first. “That was fast.”
He nodded. “Paid extra to rush Denner along. I am in a hurry to start selling copies.”
Emily gazed hungrily at the proof pages, eager to see her words set in type.
“May I see them?”
“Hm? Oh, why not.” He pushed them across the desk. “Take them with you.”
“Thank you. By the way, I brought Mr. Gwilt’s story. Now that you are finished with the guide, I hoped you might have time to read it.”
He sighed. “Can it not wait? I have much on my mind presently. Let us delay until the guide is printed and selling. Being a sole proprietor is taxing on so many levels.”
“Oh. I see. If you need a bit more time, then of course. I will take these proof pages home to read and let you get back to work. How soon do you need them returned?”
