Скачать книгу

mumbled into the receiver.

      “You’re still in bed, aren’t you?”

      “Uh…Emily.”

      It was her business partner at the clothing store. They got along great except for her being one of those annoying morning people who woke with the sun. Of course, she had incentive—a husband who worshiped the ground she walked on, along with a darling daughter and another baby on the way. Most of the time Beth managed not to envy Emily, but for the last several days she’d found her heart aching more than usual.

      It didn’t make sense, because she didn’t want something from Kane. She just wanted…something. Beth dropped her head back on a pillow and wondered when her comfortable life had become inadequate.

      “Yup, it’s me,” Emily said. “You have to get up, you have one hour to make yourself beautiful for Kane O’Rourke.”

      Beth made a face. “That would take more than an hour, it would take a miracle.”

      Her friend sighed. “You’re a very attractive woman.”

      “Says the woman with the face of an angel,” Beth retorted. “I’ll talk to you when I get back.”

      Putting the phone down, Beth pushed away the blankets, yawning and stretching, relishing the cool morning air on her bare skin. She’d already packed an overnight bag; it waited in the living room.

      Padding into the bathroom, she glanced into the mirror. Her nipples were drawn tight, crowning her barely B-cup breasts. “A little cleavage would have been nice,” she murmured. Overall her figure wasn’t awful, but it certainly didn’t inspire any great male fantasies.

      She’d barely been touched by a man, even during her brief engagement. It was her own fault. Curt had wanted to make love, but she’d been determined to “do things right” with a traditional wedding night. Now she wished they had made love a hundred times. At least she’d have something to remember…something to distract her from thinking about Kane O’Rourke.

      “At least I’m a natural blonde,” Beth said, lifting her chin. Dark blond, to be sure, but blond. Not that Kane would ever see the proof of it.

      When the doorbell rang fifty-five minutes later she was just finished swiping mascara on her lashes. She grabbed her purse and overnight bag and hurried to the door.

      “I’m ready,” she said, flinging it open.

      Kane waited, one hand holding a bunch of flowers, the other tucked into a pair of jeans. She stared, breathless at the difference casual clothing could make. A white shirt emphasized his shoulders—shoulders that seemed even more broad and muscular now that they weren’t covered by an expensive suit. He looked younger, more relaxed, and altogether sexy.

      “Is something wrong?” he asked, taking the bag from her fingers.

      “Yes. I mean, no. Nothing.”

      He held out the flowers and she tore her gaze from his face and took the bouquet. It was a surprising mix of small yellow roses and daisies. “Thank you.”

      Beth locked the door, her heart racing even harder. Kane O’Rourke in a suit was enough to make a woman think twice about all kinds of things; in a pair of jeans he could make serious inroads on her principles. Especially carrying daisies.

      The bouquet did make her wonder, but it was probably just for publicity. At the thought, a thread of sadness crept through her. She loved flowers, but Curt had been the practical sort who didn’t go for romantic gestures—or else she just didn’t inspire that kind of thing.

      At the curb sat a black limousine. Behind it idled a Chevy Blazer, black also. A photographer was filming them from an open window and her cheeks warmed. It had to be the newspeople Kane had warned her about earlier in the week. The opulence of the stretch limo made her grateful for the early hour since her neighbors would still be in bed—a hope that was dashed when she saw a curious face peer from the house across the street.

      Swell.

      She waved and scrambled into the vehicle with more haste than grace, sinking into the butter-soft leather seat. She put the flowers to one side and pushed her hands into the cushions, trying to sit straight.

      “This is ridiculous,” she muttered.

      Kane handed Beth’s bag to the chauffeur and climbed in next to her. “What’s ridiculous?”

      “Spending this kind of money on a car.”

      He hid his smile. “There’s nothing wrong with a little luxury. Besides, it gives us time to talk.”

      “Oh, yeah, that’s a great idea. Like we have anything in common to talk about.”

      “We’ll find something.” Kane stretched his legs out and rolled his shoulders. He suspected Beth was one of those people who got up a little irritable in the morning, which unfortunately led to thoughts of the ways he could find to wake her up in a better mood.

      He wouldn’t be taking it anywhere, but it was baffling the way she made him feel. Beth Cox was too young for him, too innocent and too damned much trouble.

      So why did he have this urge to spend the next seventy-plus miles kissing her senseless?

      Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

      Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

      Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

      Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.

/9j/4QAYRXhpZgAASUkqAAgAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP/sABFEdWNreQABAAQAAABQAAD/4QO6aHR0cDov L25zLmFkb2JlLmNvbS94YXAvMS4wLwA8P3hwYWNrZXQgYmVnaW49Iu+7vyIgaWQ9Ilc1TTBNcENl aGlIenJlU3pOVGN6a2M5ZCI/PiA8eDp4bXBtZXRhIHhtbG5zOng9ImFkb2JlOm5zOm1ldGEvIiB4 OnhtcHRrPSJBZG9iZSBYTVAgQ29yZSA1LjAtYzA2MSA2NC4xNDA5NDksIDIwMTAvMTIvMDctMTA6 NTc6MDEgICAgICAgICI+IDxyZGY6UkRGIHhtbG5zOnJkZj0iaHR0cDovL3d3dy53My5vcmcvMTk5 OS8wMi8yMi1yZGYtc3ludGF4LW5zIyI+IDxyZGY6RGVzY3JpcHRpb24gcmRmOmFib3V0PSIiIHht bG5zOnhtcFJpZ2h0cz0iaHR0cDovL25zLmFkb2JlLmNvbS94YXAvMS4wL3JpZ2h0cy8iIHhtbG5z OnhtcE1NPSJodHRwOi8vbnMuYWRvYmUuY29tL3hhcC8xLjAvbW0vIiB4bWxuczpzdFJlZj0iaHR0 cDovL25zLmFkb2JlLmNvbS94YXAvMS4wL3NUeXBlL1Jlc291cmNlUmVmIyIgeG1sbnM6eG1wPSJo dHRwOi8vbnMuYWRvYmUuY29tL3hhcC8xLjAvIiB4bXBSaWdodHM6TWFya2VkPSJGYWxzZSIgeG1w TU06T3JpZ2luYWxEb2N1bWVudElEPSJ1dWlkOkMwN0Y0NDIzQTJGMEU1MTE5MzY0RTc5MzJFNTJB Njc2IiB4bXBNTTpEb2N1bWVudElEPSJ4bXAuZGlkOjA4QURFMUVGMDNEODExRTY5Q0YxODI5MDQ2 RjlFRDY5IiB4bXBNTTpJbnN0YW5jZUlEPSJ4bXAuaWlkOjA4QURFMUVFMDNEODExRTY5Q0YxODI5 MDQ2RjlFRDY5IiB4bXA6Q3JlYXRvclRvb2w9IkFkb2JlIFBob3Rvc2hvcCBDUzUuMSBNYWNpbnRv c2giPiA8eG1wTU06RGVyaXZlZEZyb20gc3RSZWY6aW5zdGFuY2VJRD0ieG1wLmlpZDpCRDI5ODM1 ODBDMjA2ODExOTEwOTg5MEE0ODBFQzk3QiIgc3RSZWY6ZG9jdW1lbnRJRD0idXVpZDpDMDdGNDQy M0EyRjBFNTExOTM2NEU3OTMyRTUyQTY3NiIvPiA8L3JkZjpEZXNjcmlwdGlvbj4gPC9yZGY6UkRG PiA8L3g6eG1wbWV0YT4gPD94cGFja2V0IGVuZD0iciI/Pv/iDFhJQ0NfUFJPRklMRQABAQAADEhM aW5vAhAAAG1udHJSR0IgWFlaIAfOAAIACQAGADEAAGFjc3BNU0ZUAAAAAElFQyBzUkdCAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAD21gABAAAAANMtSFAgIAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAEWNwcnQAAAFQAAAAM2Rlc2MAAAGEAAAAbHd0cHQAAAHwAAAAFGJrcHQAAAIE AAAAFHJYWVoAAAIYAAAAFGdYWVoAAAIsAAAAFGJYWVoAAAJAAAAAFGRtbmQAAAJUAAAAcGRtZGQA AALEAAAAiHZ1ZWQAAANMAAAAhnZpZXcAAAPUAAAAJGx1bWkAAAP4AAAAFG1lYXMAAAQMAAAAJHRl Y2gAAAQwAAAADHJUUkMAAAQ8AAAIDGdUUkMAAAQ8AAAIDGJUUkMAAAQ8AAAIDHRleHQAAAAAQ29w eXJpZ2h0IChjKSAxOTk4IEhld2xldHQtUGFja2FyZCBDb21wYW55AABkZXNjAAAAAAAAABJzUkdC IElFQzYxOTY2LTIuMQAAAAAAAAAAAAAAEnNSR0IgSUVDNjE5NjYtMi4xAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAA

Скачать книгу