Читать книгу The Matchmaker - Lisa Plumley - Страница 2

“I don’t want fritters.”

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Frowning, Molly regarded him. “Tea cakes then?”

“No. Something more.” His grasp loosened, became more of caress. His thumb stroked over the sensitive skin at the underside of her wrist. “Something…sweeter.”

Molly trembled. Staunchly she made herself stop gawping at the lovely contrast between Marcus’s big, sun-browned hand and her lace-trimmed gloves. He’d magically found the one gap between those gloves and her long-sleeved dress, and he toyed with it even now. The sensation caused by his thumb against her bare skin made her want to close her eyes to savor it. Instead, she summoned all her will to address Marcus directly.

“Perhaps a dumpling, then? They’re quite fresh.”

So are you, Marcus’s teasing expression said.

“No. Sweeter.” He tugged her nearer.

It was true, then. He did have more in mind than mere delectables…!

The Matchmaker

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