The Christmas Wedding Ring

Dylan swore under his breath, then made himself concentrate on unpacking their few belongings. Let it go, he told himself. He had no business thinking about messing with her. Enjoying the ride up from L.A. was one thing, but it was time for some self-control.

The lecture helped...a little. He managed to avoid thinking about her curves, even when she unzipped her jacket, exposing the soft, red sweater she wore underneath. The swell of her breasts was only of passing interest. At least it would stay that way if he quickly averted his eyes.

“I’ve got the key,” he said gruffly, then had to clear his throat. He led the way, mostly so she wouldn’t see his arousal pressing against the fly of his jeans.

There were two steps up to the wooden porch. The front door looked flimsy, but Dylan figured they didn’t have anything worth stealing, so it wasn’t going to be a problem.

Inside, the house was a little musty. Molly went to the rear windows and opened the mini-blinds. They had an instant view of the ocean. She caught her breath.

“It’s so beautiful. The sky and the water are the perfect color of blue.”

She smiled at him, an ingenuous smile that expected nothing in return. Oddly enough, he found himself wanting to give her something. He, who considered himself the last great cynic alive.

She wrinkled her nose. “I’ll bet this place hasn’t been lived in since summer. Let’s get it aired out.” She pushed open the windows, then glanced around. “It’s small but nice.”

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.