Unforgettable. Rhonda Nelson

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Unforgettable - Rhonda Nelson


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bottom. He could feel a goofy grin on his lips and couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away from hers. She was studying him intently again, making him feel as if she’d put his face under a microscope. Pride demanded that he be flattered, but he couldn’t help feeling a little bewildered as well, a sensation he’d been experiencing quite a bit since she got here.

      “Er…is something wrong?” Lex finally asked.

      She started, inhaling sharply, and her cheeks turned rosy with embarrassment. “No, nothing is wrong. Forgive me for staring. It’s just you, uh, bear a remarkable resemblance to someone I know.” She laughed self-consciously, crossed her arms over her chest. “Sorry.”

      Probably someone she knew intimately, Lex thought, given the way her creamy cheeks had bloomed with color. He pulled in a tight breath through his nostrils and fought an irrational wave of jealously.

      Her brow furrowed with perplexity. “Would you mind if I asked you a personal question, Mr. Ellenburg?”

      “Not at all, and call me Lex.”

      “Okay…Lex. How did you get that scar on your temple?”

      Was that what she’d been staring at? Honestly, it was a small scar, hardly disfiguring. He’d even been told that it added character to his face. He shifted, suddenly ill at ease. “Well, I wish I could say that I got it during the Gulf War, or something equally heroic.”

      “But you didn’t?”

      He grinned, passed a hand over his face. “No…it was a bike accident. The chain broke at an inopportune moment. I landed in a blackberry bush and came out a little worse for the wear.”

      Eyes glittering with undisguised laughter, she inclined her head. “Oh, I see.”

      “The mission was heroic, though. At the time I was pretending to be a superhero.” He rocked back on his heels. “I flew, too. Right over the handle bars.”

      She chuckled. “Ouch.”

      “Ouch was right.” Lex shook his head, lost in the memory. “My mother picked briars out of my hide for days.”

      “I’ll bet.” Faith glanced at the dog again, who’d begun to pace his cage. “Don’t forget to give me five minutes,” she reminded Lex, taking a couple of steps backward.

      “I won’t.” Still laughing softly under his breath, he watched Faith walk away. She moved gracefully and the swing of her hips was positively mesmerizing. In addition to being one of the sexiest women he’d ever seen, she had an ass that simply would not quit. Full and heart-shaped, set off by a small, barely there waist. Perfect. Need pumped through his veins, making his blood and reflexes sluggish, which would explain why he hadn’t moved an inch, hadn’t continued to the woodpile that awaited his attention.

      He admonished the dog to be patient—Beano had reared up on his hind legs and pawed agitatedly at the cage—then, cursing himself, Lex bustled into action. He had absolutely no business looking at her like that, much less thinking about how damn sexy she was. He didn’t have time for romance, dammit. He had to keep the lodge afloat. End of story.

      Was he intrigued by her? Yes.

      Was she hot? Most definitely.

      But she was off-limits.

      Lex set a piece of wood up on the chopping block and swung the ax with a little more force than was necessary to cleave the piece. Beano whimpered in his cage.

      The realization was more depressing than it should have been under the circumstances. Hell, they’d just met.

      Still, there was something about Faith Bonner that made him want to watch her, made him want to listen to the sound of her voice, made him want to kiss those carnal lips and see if they were as soft and talented as they looked. If he’d ever been this instantly intrigued and attracted to a woman, it had been so long ago he couldn’t recall it.

      Lex exhaled mightily. But in the end, it simply didn’t matter. She was a guest—the guest that ultimately assured his season—and he simply couldn’t afford to let his baser needs get the better of him. The head with the brain had to maintain control. Too much rode on the outcome.

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