Read Online Home for Christmas by Kristin Holt - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Kristin Holt
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“What’s wrong with me, Hunter?” A sob lodged in her throat, twisting her voice into a hollow shadow of itself. Fresh pain lanced through her, preventing any embarrassment for losing control. “Why couldn’t Warren love me? Why didn’t he stay with me? ”
He took her face in his hands, lifting gently, waiting for her to meet his gaze. “ Nothing’s wrong with you. Nothing at all.”
He paused. Waited, evidently gaging her reaction.
Oh, how she wanted to believe him.
But something had to be wrong with her. Something so deep, Warren hadn’t seen it until near the end.
“You’re remarkable, Miranda.” Honesty rang in his words, deepened his voice with an edge of emotion she’d rarely heard from him. “Compassionate, considerate of people’s feelings, and beautiful. So beautiful. ”
His gaze held hers, refusing to let her look away, refusing to allow doubt.
Ever so slowly, with sheer reverence, he touched his lips to the trail of tears on her right cheek. He lingered, softly. The kiss of a friend, of a trusted, beloved brother.
Agony tore through her. How could she fall in love with another Kendall? He wouldn’t-- couldn’t-- love her in return. He could claim blindness to her flaws and failings, but he would never love her. That perfect oneness would forever be out of reach, at least for her.
His lips pulled away, so slowly, his gaze locked with hers. Then he seemed to gaze with longing at her lips-- couldn’t be.
She was merely seeing what she desperately wanted to see, so she closed her eyes against the yearning that swelled in her chest.
But his lips touched her other cheek, pressing a kiss upon her tears. He lingered. Longing surged, dampening inhibitions, making her want everything she couldn’t have. She craved Hunter’s affection, genuine affection, the kind Warren hadn’t been able to give her.
Because of her unworthiness.
So lightly, Hunter’s tongue swept moisture from her cheek, his lips still pressed against her in a gentle kiss. Pleasure skittered across nerve endings at having him so close, the kiss upon her cheek feeling almost non-brotherly.
Tears welled as he pulled away.
His large, graceful hands still cupped her face. She realized she’d covered his hands with hers and hadn’t known it until now.
“When you’re ready,” he whispered, “you’ll marry someone who loves you more than you can imagine.”
“I doubt that’s true.” The words tumbled out before she could stop them. Her heart craved the oneness, the happiness of sharing her life with a man she loved with all her heart and who loved her--really loved her--in return. Was that so very wrong to want? Even for the likes of her, a cast-off bride?
Hunter eased his hands away from her face, leaving her chilled without his heat. He took her hands in his, lacing them together, holding on as if he meant to keep her close.
He fell silent, apparently waiting for her to elaborate. Or to take back the impetuous words. How could she? The words, the explanation were too difficult.
“You…?” he asked, paused, “you’re against marriage?”
“Marriage follows an engagement.” How could she make him understand? “The dreadful months of planning and courting and no guarantees.”
She shook her head, not quite certain why she told Hunter so much more than he’d asked. “It’s the engagement part I’m not very good at. I’ve made up my mind to never agree to an engagement again. Not ever.”
“Never?” Hunter kept his gaze on their entwined hands. He sat motionless, as if trying to digest her claims. “What if some fellow simply sent for you? No engagement necessary?”
His attempt at humor failed to make her smile. She felt compelled to defend her reasons. “He married Viv. One. Month. Less, evidently. After he called off his wedding to me . I must’ve done something terrible to turn him away.”
“You’ve got it all wrong,” Hunter assured. “You didn’t do anything. He was content,
“What’s wrong with me, Hunter?” A sob lodged in her throat, twisting her voice into a hollow shadow of itself. Fresh pain lanced through her, preventing any embarrassment for losing control. “Why couldn’t Warren love me? Why didn’t he stay with me? ”
He took her face in his hands, lifting gently, waiting for her to meet his gaze. “ Nothing’s wrong with you. Nothing at all.”
He paused. Waited, evidently gaging her reaction.
Oh, how she wanted to believe him.
But something had to be wrong with her. Something so deep, Warren hadn’t seen it until near the end.
“You’re remarkable, Miranda.” Honesty rang in his words, deepened his voice with an edge of emotion she’d rarely heard from him. “Compassionate, considerate of people’s feelings, and beautiful. So beautiful. ”
His gaze held hers, refusing to let her look away, refusing to allow doubt.
Ever so slowly, with sheer reverence, he touched his lips to the trail of tears on her right cheek. He lingered, softly. The kiss of a friend, of a trusted, beloved brother.
Agony tore through her. How could she fall in love with another Kendall? He wouldn’t-- couldn’t-- love her in return. He could claim blindness to her flaws and failings, but he would never love her. That perfect oneness would forever be out of reach, at least for her.
His lips pulled away, so slowly, his gaze locked with hers. Then he seemed to gaze with longing at her lips-- couldn’t be.
She was merely seeing what she desperately wanted to see, so she closed her eyes against the yearning that swelled in her chest.
But his lips touched her other cheek, pressing a kiss upon her tears. He lingered. Longing surged, dampening inhibitions, making her want everything she couldn’t have. She craved Hunter’s affection, genuine affection, the kind Warren hadn’t been able to give her.
Because of her unworthiness.
So lightly, Hunter’s tongue swept moisture from her cheek, his lips still pressed against her in a gentle kiss. Pleasure skittered across nerve endings at having him so close, the kiss upon her cheek feeling almost non-brotherly.
Tears welled as he pulled away.
His large, graceful hands still cupped her face. She realized she’d covered his hands with hers and hadn’t known it until now.
“When you’re ready,” he whispered, “you’ll marry someone who loves you more than you can imagine.”
“I doubt that’s true.” The words tumbled out before she could stop them. Her heart craved the oneness, the happiness of sharing her life with a man she loved with all her heart and who loved her--really loved her--in return. Was that so very wrong to want? Even for the likes of her, a cast-off bride?
Hunter eased his hands away from her face, leaving her chilled without his heat. He took her hands in his, lacing them together, holding on as if he meant to keep her close.
He fell silent, apparently waiting for her to elaborate. Or to take back the impetuous words. How could she? The words, the explanation were too difficult.
“You…?” he asked, paused, “you’re against marriage?”
“Marriage follows an engagement.” How could she make him understand? “The dreadful months of planning and courting and no guarantees.”
She shook her head, not quite certain why she told Hunter so much more than he’d asked. “It’s the engagement part I’m not very good at. I’ve made up my mind to never agree to an engagement again. Not ever.”
“Never?” Hunter kept his gaze on their entwined hands. He sat motionless, as if trying to digest her claims. “What if some fellow simply sent for you? No engagement necessary?”
His attempt at humor failed to make her smile. She felt compelled to defend her reasons. “He married Viv. One. Month. Less, evidently. After he called off his wedding to me . I must’ve done something terrible to turn him away.”
“You’ve got it all wrong,” Hunter assured. “You didn’t do anything. He was content,
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