Golden Christmas by Helen Scott Taylor Read Free Book Online

sister-in-law, Gabriela, now owned
Rosemoor Hall. He didn't dig into his own insecurities about his
place here, and his certainty that his sister-in-law didn't like
him and wanted him out of the house.
    When they'd finished, he washed up and Vicky
dried. He had a dishwasher, but it never seemed worth turning on
for only a few dishes. Anyway, it was nice working with Vicky,
doing normal everyday things with another person for a change.
    After they finished, they took their cups of
coffee through to the sitting room. Jonathan set his on the side
table and sat in the corner of the sofa, thrilled when the cushions
bounced as Vicky joined him.
    He sipped his coffee as the soft tones of her
voice caressed his senses. She sounded divine and she smelled
divine. Most of the time he coped well with being blind, but
occasionally he wanted to see something or someone so badly, the
unfairness of his injury made him want to roar and put his fist
through a wall.
    Now was certainly not the time for violence.
Instead, he sucked in a breath and blew out his frustration.
    "Okay, Jon?"
    He lifted a hand towards his scar, then
stopped himself and flattened his palm on his thigh. "It gets to me
sometimes. I want to see you, and it's driving me crazy that I
can't."
    Her answering silence seemed to go on
forever, then she laid her hand on top of his where it lay on his
thigh, sending a flash of sensation up his leg.
    "I'm five foot eight, about average weight
for my height, and I have dark brown hair and hazel eyes. My best
friend used to say my eyes looked green in the summer when we were
on the beach." She laughed. "That might have something to do with
our childhood mermaid fixation, though."
    Jonathan's breath leaked out and he drew in
another, his attention focused on the pressure of her hand on the
back of his. It was warm and slender, her fingers nestled in the
gaps between his.
    He felt so unsure of himself. In his head she
was an incredible beauty—far too pretty to be interested in a blind
man with nothing to offer her. Maybe he should accept that no woman
would be interested in him now, and be happy with his own
company.
    "I watched a movie once," she said, "where a
blind woman touched a man's face to 'see' him. Would that work for
you?"
    Jonathan's heart jumped and pounded so loudly
he could hear nothing else for a moment. He turned his hand and
gripped hers. "You'd let me do that?"
    "If you want to."
    He nearly laughed but caught the impulse. He
wanted to touch her so much it hurt—could she not sense that? He
swallowed and pressed the side of his fist to his mouth, taking a
moment to gather his composure.
    The sofa squeaked and bounced as she shifted,
then her leg rested beside his. "Go ahead."
    So she could read his emotions,
probably from his expression. He felt vulnerable knowing she could
read his face while he had no idea how she felt about him.
    He'd heard of blind people "seeing" faces
with their fingers as well, but this was a first for him, and this
was far more complex than simply forming a mental picture of her.
His desire to touch her was as much to do with intimacy.
    Vicky took his hand and pressed his palm
against her cheek. Jonathan stopped breathing as he caressed her
smooth skin. He framed her face between his hands and gently
stroked the fine line of her eyebrows, her forehead and cheekbones,
the slender shape of her nose.
    When his fingertips brushed her lips, a
tremor of need went through him, closely followed by a burst of
loneliness so sharp it brought tears to his eyes.
    He stilled his exploration and closed his
eyes, hoping Vicky wouldn't see his tears. He should drop his
hands, but he couldn't pull away. The feel of her skin beneath his
fingers gave him more than an image in his mind, more than a burst
of desire. For the first time in four years he felt alive again,
alive in the way a man only feels when he touches a woman and
absorbs her warmth and softness.
    "Jon." Vicky rested her hands over his and
moved