her or not. “Just show me where to gear up. And I’ll be ready to go.”
IT TOOK LESS THAN five minutes in the lodge shop to realize every single staff member—the same who had looked at Ally with their polite, distant and disappointed smiles—absolutely revered one T. J. Chance.
They respected him, emulated him.
Loved him.
If she could accomplish a fraction of that in her time here, she’d be ecstatic. By the time she got outside, wearing her new boots, leggings and a T-shirt layered with a lightweight jacket, Chance was gone.
“He just left,” she was told when she asked about him.
Not a surprise. Determined, she took off on the trail pointed out to her, running, hoping to catch him.
Which she did, literally, only a moment later, when she came around a blind turn and plowed right into the back of six feet two inches of bad attitude.
“Sorry,” she said when he whipped around to glare at her. But she wasn’t sorry, not really. If anything, she was feeling that funny weak-knee thing again. And all because her hands had slid over his warm, solidly muscled back. Her nose twitched for another sniff of his skin. “You didn’t wait for me.”
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.
