Читать книгу About Last Night... - Michele Dunaway - Страница 2

“I really need to talk to you,” Shane said. “I have no memory of last night.

“The last thing I remember is calling you. I did call you, didn’t I?”

“You did.” Lindy could safely admit that much.

“I really must have done a good one last night,” Shane went on. “My grandfather stopped by this afternoon, and pointed out that I have a hickey. Boy, did I get a lecture.”

Lindy’s hand flew up to cover her mouth. She’d been so carried away last night that she hadn’t stopped kissing him. But the evidence was right there in front of her like a badge of honor on Shane’s neck.

Shane frowned. “Lindy, how did I get this? I remember a redhead, but I know I didn’t do anything with her. But if I have this, who was I with?”

Lindy’s heart constricted. At the moment he looked so vulnerable. Yet she knew she couldn’t tell him the truth. How could she just say, Shane, you slept with me. He always saw her as good old Lindy, his personal assistant.

She gave Shane a narrow look, and he turned his big blue puppy-dog eyes on her. “Let me guess. You want me to find out….”