Chapter Fifteen
It was her hair. That sleep-mussed black hair that fell around her face in perfect waves. She usually wore it under a wide-brimmed hat or back in a ponytail, not loose, emphasizing her large, sleepy eyes. It was her lips also. Soft and swollen from sleep. The color of cherries. He’d started wondering if she would look like that after spending a night with him and lost his sense of what was appropriate.
He’d called her beautiful. The words just tumbled out. If he had thought that somehow they might be words she wanted to hear, he knew he was mistaken when that look of pure shock wiped the sleep right out of her eyes.
After the day he’d shared with her yesterday, it was all he could to do concentrate on the documentary. He’d been lost as she’d giggled uncontrollably which
