Читать книгу The Secret Wedding Dress - Ally Blake - Страница 2

Through gritted teeth Paige muttered, ‘That’s it. I hereby promise to throw myself upon the mercy of the next man who smiles at me. I need to get myself some man-time and fast. Deal? Deal.’

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‘Hold the door,’ said a deep male voice.

He loomed into view—a stranger, his bulk blocking her view of the foyer entirely. Head down, brow pinched into a frown, he stared intently at the shiny smartphone in his spare hand.

As she pressed herself deeper into the small lift her eyes flickered over a well-worn chocolate-brown leather jacket, with dark hair curling over the wool-lined collar, over dark denim clinging tight to masses of muscle, down to huge scuffed boots. Big and brawny, he was, with dark shadowed eyes and stubble long past designer on a jaw that could have been cut from granite.

The raw and unadulterated impact of the man sent her stomach into freefall, and the colour rushed into her skin with a whoosh she could practically hear. She had to swallow down the sudden absurd urge to growl.

Then a husky voice inside her head sent the stranger a silent plea: Smile.

The Secret Wedding Dress

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