Kissing Under the Mistletoe by Suzanne Enoch EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Suzanne Enoch
- Language: English
- Genre: Holiday Romance
- Format: PDF/ EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
Jane Bansil threw the heavy blankets over her head and burrowed deeper
beneath the covers. Still the sound continued, a sharp, endless wailing that
made her hair stand on end and seemed to emanate from everywhere at
once. Grabbing a pillow, she pulled that over her head as well. Warmth
turned into suffocating heat, but still the sound went on and on and on.
Finally, gasping for air, she flung off the blankets and the pillow and sat
up. “For God’s sake, stop!” she yelled, then slapped both hands over her
mouth, too late to hold in her very unladylike bellow. Blasted, stupid,
infuriating bagpipes.
A knock sounded at her door. “Jane?”
Wonderful. Now she’d be caught both complaining and lying abed at
seven o’clock in the morning. “Just a moment!” she called, and slid her feet
onto the icy stone floor. Stifling a responding yelp, she stepped into her
slippers, grabbed her robe, and flung it over her shoulders. “Good
morning,” she said, pasting a smile on her face as she pulled open her
bedchamber door.
Amelia-Rose Hyacinth MacTaggert, her blond hair loose and a heavy
robe around her own slender shoulders, blinked at her from the hallway.
“Did I hear you yelling, Cousin? Is something amiss?”
“I’m so sorry,” Jane returned, broadening her smile. “I was just talking
to myself. With more volume than I realized, evidently. I didn’t wake you,
did I?” Unable to help herself, she lowered her gaze to Amy’s thickening
middle.
“Not at all. Niall went out hours ago to help find someone’s cow. Or so
he claimed. I actually think he and Aden went fishing.” Jane’s younger
cousin grinned. “I hope they went fishing. I don’t need him following me
about all morning and flinging pillows beneath me. I would certainly
inform him if I were uncomfortable.”
“Then I’m also happy you have the morning to yourself.” Jane took a
half step back, not enough to be unfriendly, but she hoped enough to inform
her cousin that continuing the conversation wasn’t necessary.
Amy, though, followed her retreat with a step forward. “Actually,
Miranda and Eloise and Persie and I are going down to the village for
breakfast at The Thistle. Evidently, it’s a tradition for the MacTaggert
women to do so before Christmas, and we’re nearly out of time. Will you
join us?”
Abruptly the wailing stopped. For a bare second Jane closed her eyes,
pulling the silence around her like another cozy blanket. “I’m not a
MacTaggert.”
“Not in name, but you live with a great many of us. Aside from that,
you’re my family, which by extension does make you a MacTaggert. And
you’re definitely a woman.”
She was that, and probably the only virgin left in the house, but she
wasn’t so certain about the rest of it. The MacTaggerts, male and female
and born to the family or married into it, were bold and boisterous and
rather wild. None of those words came anywhere near to describing her.
“Please don’t feel like I need to be entertained or something,” she said. “I
have duties, you know.”
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