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Made For Marriage. Helen LaceyЧитать онлайн книгу.

Made For Marriage - Helen Lacey


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talked about last night. And I know Lily—when she gets her mind stuck on something, she can be impossible to deal with.”

      Callie raised her brows. “Looks like you’re surrounded by impossible women.”

      My God, am I flirting? That’s what it sounds like.

      And he smiled. As though he liked it. “I could think of worse things.”

      Everything around her suddenly felt hot—the air in her lungs, the sand beneath her boots. “Anyway—she didn’t do any harm while she was here.”

      “She’s changed since her mother left.”

      Not what he wanted to say, Callie was sure of it. It was too familiar, too personal, too everything. And Callie wanted to clamp her hands over her ears. She didn’t want to hear any more. She didn’t want to know him. She didn’t want to know more of him.

      “No problem.” It was a pitiful attempt at sounding indifferent.

      “She used to be … sweet. A real sweet kid. And then she changed almost overnight.”

      Callie felt another surge of feeling for Lily. She knew all about change. She knew what grief and hurt could do to a person. “Is that the reason for the makeup and black clothes?”

      He shrugged. “Something to hide behind, I guess. She still wants riding lessons.”

      Callie clicked Kirra forward and began to walk from the arena. “Well, Janelle Evans is a good instructor.”

      He stepped in beside her. “She’s asked for you.”

      “She can’t … you can’t … I just …”

      Something happened then. Her legs stopped moving. Her lungs stopped breathing as she turned and their eyes locked. For one extraordinary moment Callie knew that whatever she was feeling, he was feeling it, too. It was crazy, heady and blindingly powerful.

      He spoke first. “Lily rarely asks for anything.”

      Callie continued walking. “Which means?”

      “Which means I’m inclined to do whatever I can to see that she gets what she wants.”

      They got to the gate. Callie tied Kirra to the railing, took a deep breath. “I’m not sure I—”

      “Callie,” he said “Please, reconsider.” He placed his hand on her arm. A light touch, but the electricity coursing between their skin could not be denied. He looked at his hand but didn’t remove it. Callie stood still, held in place by his touch, by the mere wisp of space that lay between them. “Lily needs you.” He paused, watching her. “And I … and I need you.”

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