Читать книгу Territorial Bride - Linda Castle - Страница 4

But to his shock and dismay, she only smiled and allowed those remarkably thick dark lashes to sweep over her chestnut eyes once again.

“As you say, Brooks,” she agreed demurely. “I do stick out like a sore thumb here in New York, part Irish and part Indian—a cat’s whisker from being a barbarian, wouldn’t you say?”

Missy—brave, blunt, wonderful Missy was still beneath the lonely veneer.

“No, I wouldn’t call you a barbarian and neither would anyone else within my hearing, I assure you—Marisa.” A sudden burst of possessiveness flared inside him. All he wanted to do was enjoy her company alone and keep other men from looking at her with hungry eyes.

Their gazes locked. Heat rose between them like fog on a warm April morning.

Breathe, you idiot, a voice inside his head screamed…