Читать книгу Breakaway - Nancy Warren - Страница 15

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6

MAX WATCHED THE old Yukon bounce and rumble its way out of the parking lot and onto the main street.

Rain check. What kind of an expression was that anyway? All it conjured up in his mind was an image of him and Claire in a cabin somewhere. Or a loft with skylights. A tropical hut in the jungle. Someplace where the rain would pound down around them. He imagined her, naked and passionate, while water pattered on the roof and her sighs mingled with the sounds of a storm raging.

He had to shake his head to clear it. What the hell was wrong with him?

Max had been singularly lucky in his life and he knew it. He’d always liked women. Maybe because he adored his mother and even though he hadn’t always adored his bossy older sister, he still loved her. Knew she had his back as he had hers.

But the combination of his financial success at such a young age and his genuine appreciation of women had meant that he hadn’t encountered many challenges in his dealings with the opposite sex.

He met lots of women. Polished beauties who were only too happy to trade their undeniable physical assets for the more worldly assets he could provide, high-powered businesswomen who were colleagues and sometimes more. But in every case, who he was—and what he could offer—were a part of the attraction.

Breakaway

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