Читать книгу The Italian GP's Bride - Kate Hardy - Страница 2

“Call me,” Orlando said, his voice soft. He raised her hand to his mouth.

The brush of his lips against her skin was momentary. It was a mere courtesy, Eleanor knew—the Italian way of doing things. But there was heat in his eyes. Heat matched by the flicker of desire rising up her spine.

Calling him would be way too dangerous for her peace of mind, but she wasn’t going to argue over it now. Instead she smiled politely.

“Thank you for the lift, Dottore de Luca.”

“Orlando,” he corrected. “Prego.” He smiled, sketched a bow, ran lightly down the steps to his car and drove off….