Читать книгу The Rancher's Hand-Picked Bride - Elizabeth August - Страница 2

“That’s Gwen Murphy standing there, Jess reminded himself. She’d rather slug a man than kiss him.

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But with her hair all sleep mussed and her curves in that old cotton robe that showed more leg than he guessed she was aware of, she looked sexier than any woman in the flimsiest negligee.

“You’re still here,” Gwen grumbled.

“I told you I’d see you through your recent loss.”

“Not necessary,” Gwen replied. But, suddenly light-headed, she slumped against the doorjamb.

Jess reached her and lifted her into his arms. Her robe opened more, and he realized she was wearing little or nothing under it. Arousal threatened again.

Gwen yanked her robe around her and rasped, “Put me down.”

He must be crazy to be attracted to her, Jess thought. He liked his women soft and sweet.

While tangling with Gwen…would be like tangling with a cougar!

The Rancher's Hand-Picked Bride

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