the waistband of her jeans … He drew in a deep breath.
“Anyway, after that I returned to school, got drafted into the NFL and played professional football for a few years.
“Yes, I knew that … I mean, Mama Lilly mentioned you playing pro when you got drafted,” she said, correcting herself.
Yasmine swallowed an embarrassed groan after he gently, yet firmly, removed her hand from his arm.
God, what had possessed her to touch him like that?
In all actuality she hadn’t thought much about her actions, simply reached out to him … it had come so naturally. But, as soon as she had, she’d felt an electric heat sear her hand when she’d touched him.
And it didn’t help matters in the least that her stupid blouse refused to stay closed. At that moment the button popped open, and the look in his eyes when he glanced down at her had made her treacherous nipples respond in kind. It was as though someone had kicked up the air-conditioning fifty degrees colder.
She’d ordered the shirt online, and hadn’t tried it on before donning it that morning, along with the just-as-useless new bra. Not that he’d believe her if she told him—he probably thought she’d worn the shirt on purpose, knowing it was a size too small.
And besides, even if she said anything, she’d feel even more foolish drawing more attention to the fact, she thought glumly.
As far as knowing what he’d been up to, well, she’d been well aware of Holt and his activities, at least the ones that seemed to make the news with the regularity that would make any one of the celebrity male sex sym bols green with envy. He’d had his pick of women, beautiful women, from actresses and models to heiresses and famous female athletes.
His … exploits had been fodder for many a news outlet, particularly during his time playing pro ball.
Much as he’d been during the time she’d lived at the ranch, Holt Magnum Wilde was still a magnet to women. Beautiful, rich … sophisticated women.
Although he’d only played pro ball for three years before retiring, it seemed he was just as busy off the field as he was on the field.
In every photo she’d seen, he’d had a woman draped on his arm.
More often than not, two. Sometimes three.
Every time she’d glance and see his name mentioned in regards to a woman, Yasmine had subconsciously held her breath, waiting for the time when one of them proved to be more than a passing fling, yet they never had.
Even retired, although his exploits weren’t as well advertised, the man still managed to make news. Nothing had changed.
As usual, with some woman on his arm, from the heiress he’d dated last year to the daughter of one of the most lucrative cattle farmers in Wyoming, he still had his pick from a bevy of women to choose from.
And although they’d seemed to click on the ride, and his interest in her life seemed real, he still saw her as nothing more than that little girl who’d had a crush on him.
Obviously nothing had changed about him in that regard, either.
She suppressed a sigh, planting the largest, fakest smile on her face that she could when he glanced her way, hoping he couldn’t read her thoughts.
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.
