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Kissing Aaron Wincanton was nothing like she’d expected kissing to be.
Not only did she feel it on her lips, she felt it in her legs as well. They were oddly unsteady. Connie did not notice the passing of time, nor exactly when the kiss changed into something more visceral, but one moment she was standing in his arms, upset, and the next she was almost reclining on the sofa, with her hands fisted in his dark hair and his large, warm palm sliding over the silk of her stockings until it rested scandalously on the bare skin above her garter. It felt glorious to be wanted this way, and by a man who had no interest in her dowry or her prospects.
He was kissing her.
Connie.
And she could tell by the way his breathing was ragged and the way his heart hammered against his ribs that he was as lost in the kiss as she. Finally she was attractive and desirable to someone. She felt beautiful and womanly and alive.
Shortly after my daughter started school she came home worried. When I asked her what had happened she held up her hands and said that she thought there was something wrong with her. ‘My hands and feet are too big.’
This had all come about because her teacher had innocently thought that it might be a good idea to measure all the new students, take handprints and footprints, and create a graph in the classroom showing their varying sizes. Whilst I’m sure she meant well, it served to enlighten my daughter to the fact that she was different—she was tall—and it took years for that self-consciousness to go.
Any normal person would not dream of walking up to a complete stranger and saying, ‘You’re fat, aren’t you?’ Or, ‘you’re ugly.’ Or, ‘You’re bald.’ However, the majority of the population think it is perfectly acceptable to say, ‘You’re tall, aren’t you?’ As if the person they are speaking to is somehow not aware of that fact!
My heroine, Constance, is also tall. In a world where the ideal woman is supposed to be delicate and fragile, she stands out—and desperately wishes that she didn’t. She is convinced that no man will ever want her, so behaves in a way that actively discourages any potential suitor in an attempt to guard her heart. Fortunately Aaron Wincanton is not the slightest bit afraid of her, something Connie finds most disconcerting …
Her Enemy at the Altar
Virginia Heath
When VIRGINIA HEATH was a little girl it took her ages to fall asleep, so she made up stories in her head to help pass the time while she was staring at the ceiling. As she got older the stories became more complicated—sometimes taking weeks to get to their happy ending. One day she decided to embrace her insomnia and start writing them down. Virginia lives in Essex with her wonderful husband and two teenagers. It still takes her for ever to fall asleep …
MILLS & BOON
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For Katie.
And all of the other beautiful tall girls out there.
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