Читать книгу The Italian's Bride - Diana Hamilton - Страница 2

As her head disappeared into the folds of the dress she wondered why she should harbor the utterly wanton wish that his hands had followed the quite blatant track of his eyes.

“I am trying to hurry proceedings along,” he answered, forcing a lazy tone to disguise his sudden feeling of breathlessness. That had been his true intention, but it had been a mistake.

She had a truly beautiful body—lush, ripe and tempting. Looking at the bountiful curves that almost seemed to be pleading to be freed of the unnatural constraint of confining white cotton was not enough. He wanted to touch.