Читать книгу More Than a Rancher - Claire McEwen - Страница 3

Jenna turned and came up against a chest.

An intriguingly muscular chest. It was wrapped up like a present in a tight white T-shirt. But instead of a bow, there was a belt with a silver buckle.

“Hey.” It was a low voice, kind of husky, and she finally looked up.

The owner of the chest, T-shirt and belt buckle took a step back. His skin was olive-toned, and his black hair curled over his forehead. Dark brown eyes studied her face. He smiled, and his full lips parted to reveal teeth that were white and just a little crooked.

“Hey,” she managed to say, and in an attempt not to gape at the man who looked as if he’d swaggered straight off the streets of Spain or Italy, she took the cloth grocery bag from his hand and set it on the counter.

“I’m Sandro,” he said quietly.

“Of course. Sandro the chef.” Her cheeks were on fire, and something was wrong with her brain. She stuck out her hand, and he took it, wrapping it in his long fingers and giving it a firm shake. “Um, nice to meet you. I’m visiting. From San Francisco.”

“I see. Well, I hope you’re hungry.”

“I’m always hungry,” Jenna blurted out. “I mean, I try not to eat too much—I’m a dancer…. You know, dieting and all.” This was ridiculous. Just a scant hour ago she’d given Samantha a speech about how her focus was going to be on her career, and yet now she couldn’t even think straight, or talk, just because of one good-looking guy.