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Triplets Found: The Virgin's Makeover / Take a Chance on Me / And Then There Were Three. Judy DuarteЧитать онлайн книгу.

Triplets Found: The Virgin's Makeover / Take a Chance on Me / And Then There Were Three - Judy  Duarte


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      He wore khaki slacks and a green button-down shirt, open at the collar. No tie. Yet, for a moment, she wondered what he would look like in a kilt, with a broadsword in hand.

      “Hello.” He flashed a crooked smile. “I’m Sullivan Grayson.”

      There had to be a mistake. She’d expected an older gentleman who’d been doing business long enough to achieve the mile-long résumé of successful ventures her father had shown her. Not someone whose lively eyes and flirtatious smile made her feel like a gawky adolescent.

      A hodgepodge of words seemed to jam in her throat, but she cleared her voice and uttered a belated, “Hello.”

      “You must be Lissa Cartwright,” he said, picking up the conversational ball she’d dropped.

      She nodded, then stood and extended an arm across the desk in greeting. “How do you do?”

      Gosh, could she get any more stiff and formal than that?

      Sullivan gave her hand a gentle squeeze, sending a tingle of warmth to her core.

      Her knees wobbled, but she didn’t think he’d noticed, and she tried desperately to regroup, to swallow her surprise and ignore the heady attraction to a man who was way out of her league.

      Still, she couldn’t help staring, taking inventory, so to speak. Nor could she help thinking of him as a Scottish highlander standing on a windswept moor—ready to battle a foe of the clan. Or to tease the lassies.

      Oh, for Pete’s sake. She scolded herself and tried to rein in the silly fantasy provoked by those historical romances her sister had given her. Lissa knew better than to waste her bedtime hours reading that unrealistic fluff, no matter how much she secretly enjoyed them.

      She slowly pulled her hand from the Scotsman’s grip, aware of the calluses on his palm that belied the image of the manicured businessman she’d expected. “Won’t you have a seat?”

      He took the leather chair across from her, then shot her another grin that continued to rock her usually calm nature.

      Where in the world was her dad? He’d get this conversation on the right track.

      “My father will be coming along shortly,” she said, reminding herself that this was a business meeting. Nothing more. Nothing less.

      Besides, what would a good-looking, successful guy like Sullivan Grayson see in a woman like her?

      He scanned the room until his gaze landed on the tri-colored bundle of fur chewing on a red rubber doggie ball by the potbellied stove in the corner. “You have a cute puppy.”

      “Thanks. His name is Barney.”

      “I like dogs.” Sullivan flashed her another one of those grins that rattled her senses. “And dog-lovers.”

      She cleared her throat, hoping it would also clear her mind of a fantasy that had become far too vivid. “We can wait for my dad. Or we can get started. Your choice.”

      “Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

      She wasn’t comfortable at all. Not with him or this meeting.

      “Your father mentioned you’ve developed a new wine,” he said.

      “Actually, it’s a new blend of varietals.” Lissa clasped her hands on top of the desk, glad to steer the conversation and her thoughts away from the Scottish highlands and back on Valencia Vineyards, where they belonged.

      Men like Sullivan Grayson didn’t take a second look at women like her. And if he did? Good grief. She wouldn’t know which way to run.

      Sullivan studied his new client’s daughter. Lissa Cartwright was an attractive woman, even though she didn’t seem to know it. Or maybe she preferred a plain-Jane image, intentionally downplaying her looks by wearing her hair in a bulky, spinster-type bun and hiding her figure behind baggy gray slacks and a lackluster blouse.

      She wasn’t a beauty, but he’d still felt a spark of attraction when he’d first spotted her behind that desk. Maybe it was those mesmerizing green eyes that held his attention and made him want to tease a smile from her, just to see them come alive.

      He figured she’d felt something for him, too. At least her nervousness suggested she had.

      But Lissa Cartwright was definitely off-limits. After all, Sullivan never mixed business with pleasure. And since he was working for her father on a family-owned vineyard, he’d put his interest on permanent hold.

      Besides, she had business savvy. And from what he’d learned after researching Valencia Vineyards, she was too serious-minded to be considered dating material, especially for a man who’d learned the hard way to keep his relationships light and meaningless.

      Since his divorce at the ripe old age of twenty-five, Sullivan preferred his women to have nothing more going for them than a pretty face, a great body and an impressive rung on the social ladder.

      The door opened, and Ken Cartwright entered the office. He extended a hand to Sullivan. “Forgive me for being late. My daughter, Eileen, just announced she’s expecting a baby. And, needless to say, I couldn’t disappear until my wife stopped bouncing off the walls.”

      Sullivan smiled. “I take it that she’s settled down now.”

      “She’s still a bit giddy.” Ken chuckled. “You have no idea how much my wife loves babies.”

      “And you don’t?” Lissa elbowed him, her lively green eyes taunting her father.

      “Okay,” Ken said. “I admit it. My wife and I are both suckers for toothless grins.”

      “I wonder how they’d fare in an old folks’ home?” Lissa asked, flashing a smile at Sullivan that sliced right through him.

      He couldn’t seem to escape her gaze. She had the most amazing eyes he’d ever seen. And when she smiled, her face lit up.

      “Shall we get down to business?” Ken asked.

      “Yes,” Sullivan answered, a bit too quickly. He needed to focus on what he’d been hired to do, and not on a fascinating pair of verdant green eyes that were more than a little distracting.

      At lunchtime, Lissa’s mother, Donna, and her sister, Eileen, brought a tray of sandwiches and a pitcher of iced tea for them to eat in the office. Eileen kept making goofy, isn’the-perfect-for-you faces, mouthing things like, You go, girl and pointing toward Sullivan when he wasn’t looking.

      Lissa wanted to clobber her sister. For goodness’ sake, it didn’t take a brain surgeon to see that the man was a looker. But she also knew he wouldn’t be the slightest bit interested in her.

      Of course, she’d gotten used to Eileen’s efforts to help. In high school, Lissa had become a bookworm and an honor student, but she’d had very few friends. And no dates to speak of, other than Milt Preston, the guy who played Ichabod Crane in the “Legend of Sleepy Hollow” play.

      Eileen had talked Milt into asking Lissa to the Christmas formal. As awkward as the experience had been, Lissa had appreciated her sister taking on a matchmaker role back then, but she didn’t really appreciate those same efforts now.

      When her mother—thank goodness—finally managed to drag Eileen back to the house, Lissa blew out the breath she’d been holding.

      For Pete’s sake. She was nervous enough. She certainly didn’t need a cheering section at a game that was lost before it even began.

      Fortunately, her dad and Sullivan had been oblivious to the girl talk, or so Lissa hoped. And the three of them had eaten lunch while talking over business strategy.

      By four in the afternoon, the initial meeting finally ended.

      Ken was the first to call it a day. “Lissa, I promised your mother I’d help her grill steaks this evening. Will you take Sullivan to the guest house and help


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