The Kiss: An Anthology About Love and Other Close Encounters

Ciaran wrapped and belted his plaid then joined her outside the stone chamber. He squinted as the bright snow reflected the sunlight. “Would you leave me here then, to fend for myself?”


“Oh, I’m sure you can manage without me.” Mac turned to find Ciaran inside her personal space. Her voice lost its self-assured tone as she looked at him. She lost track of her purpose when his full lips parted. Unsettled, she drew back, but he touched her chin. She began to protest, but his gaze was so tender that her breath caught.

“Mac.” He made no move to kiss her, but his soft gaze fell to her lips.

She found her eyes drifting to his mouth as well. The kiss was there, waiting for her. “No.” She had built a life. She controlled it. Who was he to disrupt it? She turned away and stared at the brilliant snow and the stark winter trees.

Resting his hands on her shoulders, he said, “I must leave you soon. May I kiss you good-bye?”

Her cautious look was his answer.

“Can you not trust me by now?”

Fear would not drown out the drumming of her heart. Tears stung her eyes. How dare he… How could he affect her so? “You’re a stranger.”

With a pained nod, he said, “Aye, that I am.” He searched the sky and exhaled. “If there were but words to tell you—”

“Please don’t.” She was surprised by the chill in her voice. Was Cam right? Had Mac become so adept at keeping men distant that she didn’t know how to let one get close?

Quiet and sure, he closed the distance between them. “You’ve spent the night in my arms.”

“For the warmth.”

“You ken as well as I do that there was more.”

She did, but she wouldn’t admit it. She shook her head but stopped when the tip of his finger traced her lips. Against her will, her lips parted. She grasped his hand. Even the scratches and scars on his hand were appealing. Why couldn’t she breathe?

He turned his hand to grasp hers. He drew her palm to his lips. “Mac, I ken that you dinnae remember me.”

She was breathless but managed to shake her head. “Oh, I think I’d remember you.”

His eyes shone with a hint of a smile, but it faded. He placed Mac’s hand on his chest. “Do you feel that?”

She nodded, feeling the strong beat against her palm.

“That is my heart, and it’s yours.”

She stared at his chest. “Please.” Stop. She couldn’t voice that word.

“How can I win your trust?”

Scarcely a whisper came out. “Give me time.”

He lifted her chin. “Och, lass, I dinnae have that to give.”

“It’s too much, too fast—”

“Aye, I ken it.” His expression softened.

“But you can’t—because I don’t understand it myself.”

He brushed a tear that had slid to her cheek. He frowned at the sunrise. “There is no more time for us now.” Snow caught sparks of sunlight around them. Gripping her shoulders, he took in the sight of her hair, cheekbones, and mouth. “I must leave.”

She couldn’t let him go without knowing his kiss, how it tasted and felt. So with a gasp, she lifted her face and kissed him. Souls can join with a kiss, but the hearts that housed them would break the next instant.

With a groan, he spoke against her lips. “It is not our time now, but I’ll come back for you, Mac.” He smiled at her name. “Lovely Mac, I will love you, and you will love me.” He glanced at the bright sun shining into the stone chamber. “Och, ’tis time.”

Mac opened her mouth to ask what he meant, but he stole one more kiss.

“Remember this moment. I promise you more.” He turned and walked into the stone chamber.

Mac put her hand on the stone entryway to steady herself. She felt dizzy and weak. “Ciaran, where are you going?”

He turned to look back, and he smiled. “I’m a traveler, lass. I cannae stay here.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You’ll think me daft if I tell you, but you’ll ken when I’m gone.”

“No, I think you’re daft now.” She smiled, but tears blurred her vision.

“I live in the past.”

“Me too. That’s what Cam always tells me, but—”

“Mac, listen to me.” With a flinch, he pulled back. “’Tis too late.” He held his palm up to caution her to stay back.

Ignoring his warning, Mac rushed toward him and held his hand. A shock traveled through her. She pulled back her hand.

“Dinnae touch me again.”

“But why?” She rubbed her wrist, which was tingling and numb.

With a sad smile, he said, “Will you wait for me?”

“Yes, if you kiss me like that again.” Mac’s lips spread into a smile that would not be repressed.

“You’re the one who kissed me.”

The last thing she saw was his smile. Blinding light shone from the sun behind her and from inside the chamber, like two mirrors reflecting each other. The brilliant light washed over Ciaran.

And he disappeared.

She could still hear him saying, “Lovely Mac, I will love you, and you will love me.” The last part of his promise was already true. He was gone, and she may have gone mad, but she knew he would come back. Until then, she would remember that moment.





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J.L. Jarvis graduated from the University of Illinois and worked in opera and musical theatre (New York City Opera, Houston Grand Opera, national tours of Broadway shows, and summer stock). When she tired of starving, she attended the University of Houston, where she obtained a teaching certificate, a law degree, and a love of research and writing. A year of family law practice convinced her that she should instead teach and write, which she now happily does. Visit J.L. Jarvis online and sign up to get new release news at:

http://news.jljarvis.com





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A KickAss Kiss


Shirley Bourget


“Kiss Ass. Kiss Up. Kiss Off. Momma shoulda named me The Kiss. I’ve learned to do it more ways than a pack of whores who’ve been turning tricks 24/7 for years.

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