Читать книгу In the Italian's Sights - Helen Brooks - Страница 2

She felt his fingers release the clip holding her hair, and as it fell about her shoulders Cherry jerked away.

‘Don’t,’ she said sharply, holding out her hand for the fastener. ‘It’s too hot to wear it down today.’

‘And is this the only reason you hide such beauty from me?’ he said, ignoring her outstretched fingers.

She stared at him, wondering if he was making fun of her. Her hair was ordinary. She was ordinary.

‘My hair is nothing special.’ She fixed him with her most severe look. ‘And how I choose to wear it has absolutely nothing to do with you.’

He smiled faintly, which Cherry found incredibly irritating. ‘Do not deny once again there is not a man behind your sojourn in my country,’ he said with unforgivable audacity. ‘A man who is stupid enough to let you slip through his fingers does not deserve you anyway.’