Читать книгу False Family - Mary Anne Wilson - Страница 2

who her father was, or what hold she had over everyone in this place. All that mattered was silky skin, heat, enormous blue eyes and the fragrance that clung to her, which made him think of sunlight even in this storm.

When another flash of lightning ripped through the skies, bathing her in white light that succeeded only in defining everything right about her, he muttered, “Impulses can be dangerous things.” And he deliberately pushed his hands behind his back to kill his own impulses, then looked out at the storm that was building in force again.

“You don’t even know me,” she said softly.

He looked back at her, unsettled by how vulnerable she appeared in that moment. “I know you shouldn’t be here.”