To Love a Wilde. Kimberly Kaye Terry

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СКАЧАТЬ her out just as much as she had him hadn’t escaped her attention. That had been just enough to boost her confidence and make her realize that she was the one in control.

      But in no way was she going to delude herself into thinking anything more of his casual appraisal than what it was. She was well aware of her attributes, without conceit. Although not as beautiful as the women he dated, she felt confident in the way she looked. She knew she’d changed some in both looks and attitude, grown up a lot, since the last time he had seen her, and the change no doubt was one he noticed. But that’s all it was.

      She inched closer to the door.

      And he was in for a big surprise if he thought she still held on to that silly schoolgirl crush.

       Chapter 4

      “Do you like what you see?” Holt asked Yasmine, as she’d been staring out of the truck’s passenger window for several moments.

      Immediately he felt like an idiot, trying to come up with some lame attempt at conversation. In his desire to find something clever to say, to keep their conversation going, his mind had gone blank, the only thing surfacing being about the weather.

      If his brothers could see him now, the self-proclaimed love doctor fumbling trying to come up with conversation, they’d break their necks falling out laughing at him.

      “The weather, I mean,” he clarified, clearing his throat when she lifted one brow in question.

      A small smile tilted the corners of her generous mouth upward before she nodded. His eyes trained on the small dimple that flashed when she smiled. “I do. It’s beautiful out. Nothing like the weather-channel prediction I got before I headed out this morning.”

      “Yeah, I think I saw that. Uh, on the weather channel, that is. About the forecast and it being a cold day,” he said and promptly clamped his mouth shut when he saw the humor lighting her dark brown eyes.

      Real smooth, Wilde, he thought, inwardly kicking him self in the ass. He didn’t know the last time, if ever, a woman had reduced him to a stumbling boy. He quickly turned his attention back to the road.

      “Has it been nice like this for long? I remember how cold it can get sometimes this time of year.”

      “We’ve had a good winter. Nothing like New York, though, I bet,” he’d said and when she lifted another brow, he hastily turned his attention back to the road. “That is where you’re living these days, right? I, uh, think I remember Lilly mentioning that you had moved from Chicago to New York a few months ago.”

      In fact, he’d known exactly where Yasmine had been living, from the time she graduated from culinary school in Chicago and moved to study in Paris before settling back in Chicago. He’d followed her rise in the culinary world, read everything Lilly would so proudly show off to him and his brothers about Yasmine. He’d always chosen to ignore the fact that he’d always been aware of what she was doing, where she was living and the reason for it.

      Holt knew it was a bad idea when his brother had asked—scratch that—told him he had to pick Yasmine up from the airport. He also knew it was a bad idea the minute he saw her standing on the sidewalk waiting to be picked up.

      But he had no idea how much he’d underestimated what a bad idea it was until he had her in his pickup, her luggage stored in the back and the two of them in his cab, her unique scent reaching out and grabbing him, pulling him up short.

      He didn’t remember her skin looking so soft, so clear and beautiful. Nor had he remembered the tendency she had to pull the full, lush bottom rim of her lips into her mouth, her thick brows coming together in a frown as she contemplated whatever it was she was thinking of.

      There was something … different about her. To say she was pretty was too mild a description.

      She’d lost the baby fat she’d carried as a younger woman, her face and body now slimmer, yet she’d held on to the curves. As he’d opened the door and helped her inside the cab of the truck, Holt’s gaze had zeroed in like a torpedo to her backside. And damn, what a backside she had.

      Although she was small in stature, the top of her head barely reaching him at chest level, she wore high heels that drew even more attention to her long legs. Her faded, ripped-up jeans cupped her firm buttocks with deadly, sexy precision, making his mouth go dry.

      She’d removed her jacket and beneath it wore a simple button-up blouse, but there was nothing simple about the way the soft fabric molded and hugged her generous breasts. As she turned to thank him, he’d caught an upclose and personal view of them as the pretty brown skin swelled well above the V neckline of her shirt and pressed against the fabric. He caught a glimpse of the bow on the front of her bra when one of the straining buttons broke free.

      She’d turned around and caught his gaze on her. Following his line of vision he saw her cheeks again blossom with color when she saw that her button had come undone. Fumbling, she’d hastily rebuttoned her blouse.

      The fact that she’d blushed again made a part of him want to believe that blush was because of him, before he immediately dismissed the idea. She’d just been embarrassed that her blouse had come undone.

      He’d been aware of her crush on him as a young woman, but there was no way the sexy, sophisticated woman she appeared to be now still held that same schoolgirl crush.

      Beauty aside, Yasmine now exuded a sexy confidence, one that didn’t jibe with his memories of the shy, clumsy girl he’d known long ago. One that made him even more aware of her than he ever had been back then, reminding him how as even a young girl there had always been something about her that had both attracted him to her and made him want to run the complete and opposite direction away from her.

      Not that she had ever done anything to him to make him feel that way.

      He turned to glance her way. She was staring out of the passenger window, deep in thought. Nerves assaulted him, which made not one bit of damn sense. He’d known Yasmine since she was a young girl, when she’d moved to the ranch after her parents died. He remembered the day she first came and Jed had allowed Lilly to introduce her to the family.

      She’d barely spoken a word, simply bobbed her head up and down as Lilly introduced her to the family. She’d solemnly shaken hands with his father and his brothers. When he struck out his hand to shake it, she’d only placed her hand in his for a brief moment before snatching it back as though she’d burned it. He’d caught the way her eyes had widened when they met his and the subtle way she’d wiped her palms down the side of the red-and-white gingham dress she wore.

      A smile of remembrance split his face for a fraction of a moment before he frowned. The fact that he remembered what she wore, from the top of her plaited hair down to the old but polished Mary Jane shoes she wore surprised him.

      “Lord, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen that,” she said, dragging him out of his thoughts. He turned and glanced out of the window. The stretch of the two-laned highway bordered a ranch, where in the distance cows were contently grazing.

      “Don’t see much of that where you live, I suppose,” he said, and turned back to the road.

      She laughed softly. “No, not really. Nothing but glass and buildings, bustling people and everybody is always busy … There’s never a dull moment.”

      There СКАЧАТЬ