Moonlight Man Read Online Free PDF Page A

jacket, and moved back from him, out of his circle of warmth. Her breathing was shallow and rapid. Her head spun. Her brain felt like mashed potatoes. She didn’t know what to say to him. If he hadn’t brought their untamed kisses to a halt, she willingly would have made love with him right there. Even now, she ached with a terrible need that she knew he could fill. “Mr. Duval …” she tried again, but once more there were no words she could say.
    “Don’t you think you could start to call me Marc now?” he asked softly, taking her hands and tenderly tucking them into the pockets of her blue jacket, then zipping the front of it up to her chin. He smiled. “You can’t exactly call us strangers after that kiss.”
    “I … guess not.” She swallowed hard and drew in a deep, shaky breath. She had to regain control of her own senses. She remembered all too well what happened to a woman who allowed herself to become so sexually overwhelmed that she couldn’t make herself turn and walk away from a man. Marc Duval was one man who could do that to her. And she was not going to permit it.
    “Good night,” she said, and as she spoke, the bell in the church steeple a few miles away began to chime the midnight hour. They stood together, not touching, listening in silence to the bell, gazing down the valley toward the church. When the last, deep-throated, resounding “bong” had faded away into the night, she whispered, almost as if in surprise, “It’s Christmas Day.”
    “I’ll walk you home,” he said.
    She lips curved impishly, and his heart swelled at this first real smile Sharon Leslie had ever given him. “It’s only a few feet.”
    “Still, I’ll make sure you’re safely inside.” He took her arm and walked with her, careful not to brush his shoe against the white fur at the hem of her gown. At her door, he turned her and looked down into her face.
    “Merry Christmas, Sharon.”
    She gave him another smile, just a tiny one, but enough to fill him with happiness he’d forgotten he could feel. “Good night … Marc. Merry Christmas.”
    “Mommy! Look! Wake up! Look what Santa Claus put in my stocking!”
    Sharon groaned as she rolled over and blinked her eyes open, trying to focus on what Roxy had shoved right under her nose. Grasping her daughter’s hand, she put it back at least a foot so she could see the object, and smiled at Roxanne’s delight.
    “My Little Pony!” Roxy exulted, as if her mother wouldn’t recognize the toy. “Santa must have known I lost my other one somewhere. Look, Mommy, here’s a bunch of barrettes and a whole big box of Smarties! Do I have to share those, or are they all for me?”
    “They’re all for you, sweetheart. Merry Christmas. Climb in here and keep warm while you see what else Santa put in your stocking. Is Jason up yet?” She hoped he wasn’t; maybe, after she’d seen the contents of her fat, bulging stocking, Roxy would be content to go to sleep again. A glance at her bedside clock told Sharon that it wasn’t yet five o’clock. It had been well after midnight when she’d finally gone to bed, and then she hadn’t been able to sleep for hours, thinking of those incredible moments in Marc Duval’s arms. What a fool she’d been to let something like that happen! What a stupid risk she’d taken!
    Cuddled with her little daughter, she drifted off again and didn’t awaken until Jason came in at half past seven, eyes shining with pleasure at the contents of his stocking, even though he knew full well who had stuffed it the night before. The three of them sat in Sharon’s big bed and gloated over the goodies until they heard the McKenzie family and Freda up and moving around.
    They opened their gifts before breakfast, the adults fortified with plenty of hot coffee, the children needing no fortification at all.
    As she rolled her toy bulldozer across the carpet back toward the tree, her new doll riding astride it, Roxy looked over her shoulder at her