Читать книгу Doctor...to Duchess? - Annie O'Neil - Страница 3

“Ouch! Foot! Foot! Foot on hand!”

She looked up to see a military boot lifting off her hand as the body attached to it vaulted over the top of the wall, coming round to land opposite her on the mesh.

Their bodies made impact with a gooey thwack. Mud adhered their chests together, then released and joined them together again as they each fought for breath and balance.

“I’m slipping!”

She felt his arm slip round her waist, easily pulling her in tight to the mesh and to what felt like a particularly nice man-chest. Her eyes lingered for a moment on the wet T-shirt outlining her captor’s—or was it her savior’s?—shoulders. A lightning flash of response tugged her body closer to his and tingles of excitement danced along her skin like an electric current.

“Are you in?”

In what? Seventh heaven?

“I just need to grab—”

“Put your feet in one of the squares. I’ve got you.”

Her bare legs slid along his as her feet finally slipped onto a rung.

“What about your hand? Are you all right?”

His voice kept pulling her back to reality. I’m fitting a little too perfectly into your chest for me to answer that accurately.

“I’m fine. I—”

Finally daring to look directly at him, Julia felt the air being sucked out of her lungs. She was face to face with a pair of mossy green eyes, beaming out at her from the midst of a mud-slathered face. A face she was pretty certain sported a pair of very nice cheekbones, a broad mouth and, underneath the mud, jet-black hair.

She glanced at the green eyes again and felt her knees wobble as her tummy did a heated whirly hoop twirl. For the first time in a long time she felt an overwhelming urge to kiss—and it was very specific.

She wanted to kiss him.