Читать книгу Family Practice - Judy Duarte, Judy Duarte - Страница 2

Alone.

Get a grip, she told herself. It’s only a friendly dinner. And certainly not a date.

Kara struggled with the urge to go home, but then Michael answered the door wearing a pair of jeans, a crisply pressed white shirt and a smile that reached the golden hue of his eyes.

He’d showered. And shaved. His eyes swept over her body in an appreciative caress. “Come in.”

Kara moved into the small cottage. A fire crackled softly in the living room, and the easy sound of something classical played on the stereo.

Just friends. Neighbors.

“Can I pour you a glass of wine?”

Wine?

He flashed her a warm, friendly smile, and she wondered if she’d made more out of the offer than he’d intended.

We’re just newfound friends having dinner. What harm could there be in that?