Читать книгу Naughty Christmas Nights - Tawny Weber - Страница 11

4

“YOU’RE GRINNING LIKE a kid who just found a dancing pony under her Christmas tree. What’s wrong with you?”

Wrong?

This was afterglow. Sexual anticipation. And a big ole dollop of nervous energy. It’d been three days since her kiss with Gage, and she was still floating.

Hailey inspected her image in the ornate standing mirror in the corner of her workroom-slash-office. Behind her were swaths of billowing silk, yards of lace and spilling bins of roses and romantic trim.

Only Doris would look at that and say it was wrong.

Hailey peered past her reflection to the woman behind her.

Doris Danson, or D.D. to her friends—which meant Hailey called her Doris—looked as if she were stuck in a time warp.

Rounded and a little droopy, her white hair was bundled in a messy bun reminiscent of a fifties showgirl. Bright blue eye shadow and false lashes added to the image. Doris’s workday uniform consisted of polyester slacks, a T-shirt with a crude saying by a popular yellow bird and an appliqué holiday sweater complete with beribboned dogs, candy canes and sequin-covered trees.