Читать книгу His Secret Alaskan Heiress - Belle Calhoune - Страница 3

“Good morning, Noah.”

The chirpy voice could belong to no one else but Sophie. There was something about her upbeat tone that brought to mind rainbows and glitter and cupcakes.

“Morning,” he said, not raising his eyes from the stove. No way did he want to look into those expressive eyes when his thoughts were as scrambled as the eggs he had just cooked.

Sophie Miller was rapidly becoming a problem in his uncomplicated world.

“Did you get settled in last night?” she asked. Her voice was infused with so much cheer and a lightness that he desperately needed to hear at the moment.

Unable to stop himself, he swung his gaze up. Her long titian hair hung down gently in loose waves. Even without a stich of makeup, she shimmered. Her green eyes—the color of Irish moss—sparkled.

She wasn’t making things easy for him.