Her Passionate Plan B by Dixie Browning Read Free Book Online

brushed past her. Intensely aware of the scent of leather, aftershave and healthy male skin, she wished she’d had time to shower and change into something fresher.
    No, she didn’t! Of course she didn’t!
    The small room was lit only by light that fell through a west-facing dormer. Not bothering to switch on the overhead fixture, she said briskly, “There’s nothing of interest here, so if you’re ready?”
    Instead of backing out, he stepped into the room.“Hey, my mama had one of those things back in Oklahoma,” he exclaimed, sounding as if the fact that the Snows and the Magees had something in common proved his case beyond a doubt.
    The article in question was a treadle sewing machine, its shiny black head gleaming with gilt scrollwork. Surrendering to the inevitable, Daisy moved inside the small room. The sooner his curiosity was satisfied, the sooner he’d leave. She said, “I believe Mr. Snow’s mother used this as a sewing room. I don’t think it’s been used for anything else since then, except maybe for storage.” Did sewing machines count as personal property or furniture? She’d have to ask Egbert. “Are you ready?” She would have tapped her foot to illustrate her impatience, only she lacked the energy.
    â€œThose boxes, what do you suppose is in them?”
    Oh, shoot. She’d forgotten those. “Probably fabrics. Maybe mending that never got done.” And because she was physically exhausted and emotionally stressed, the poignancy of the whole situation suddenly struck her. She could picture it, even though she had seen nothing like it in her entire life: a pile of clothes—shirts and small overalls—stacked beside the sewing machine, waiting for patches to be sewn on and seams to be stitched up.
    She didn’t need this, she really didn’t. She had never even known Harvey’s mother. Couldn’t remember his even mentioning the woman.
    Turning away, she swallowed a sob, only to choke on the next one. There was no holding back. By the time she started making squeaky noises in the back of her throat he was hovering over her.
    â€œDaisy? Ms. Hunter?”
    God, how embarrassing! “Go on downstairs. I—I’ll just—I’ll just…”
    His hands came down on her shoulders and he pulled her into his arms. She shook her head. I don’t want this, I really, really don’t.
    But she really, really did. Irrational or not, there were only so many tears a body could hold before the dam broke. “Allergies,” she muttered while he made small, comforting sounds in a language that was universal.
    Even with her nose stopped up she was aware of it again—that leathery, woodsy scent that was so essentially male. She tried to blame allergies for causing her to break down. She’d been allergic to her ex-fiancé’s cologne. Jerry, a typical metrosexual who spent more on maintenance each month than she did in an entire year, used cologne lavishly.
    Magee was nothing at all like Jerry. Feature by feature, he wasn’t even handsome, not by Hollywood standards, yet the sum total was—
    She didn’t want to think about the sum total, not when all it took was a few comforting words spoken in that dark molasses voice of his to affect regions of her body that had been neglected far too long.
    She was a noisy crier, which was one of the reasons she tried not to indulge if there was anyone within hearing distance. Once she got started, she bawled, boohooed and squealed like a day-old piglet.
    It didn’t help that he kept making those warm, rusty, there-there sounds while his hands stroked her back. His chin was moving over the top of her head, probably searching for her off button. She took a deep, steadyingbreath but didn’t pull away. Another few seconds, she promised herself.
    Maybe she’d make him close his eyes first. As if this morning hadn’t been bad enough,