Bride on the Loose & Married after Breakfast by Renee Roszel

Author:Renee Roszel
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2011-06-10T00:00:00+00:00

2

DIRK SLID INTO the driver’s seat and slammed shut the door. The air-conditioned interior was a balm after the sizzling temperatures outside.

He looked over at Belle.

Unfortunately, not everything was cool on the inside.

After flashing Dirk a miffed look, she turned, shifted onto her knees, and leaned over the ivory leather passenger seat toward Louie’s birdcage on the back seat. Belle had inserted a neatly folded newspaper underneath the cage, Dirk noted. She might be irked, but that didn’t stop her from being considerate of his possessions. He could deal with anger—and typically had to, most days, as CEO of Harriman Enterprises. But not so often did he deal with someone’s thoughtfulness at the same time. Belle’s contradictory character was more complex than her pink sandals led one to believe.

As she reached to fill Louie’s water cup from a bottle of Evian, her shirt hiked up over her jean-clad rear end. As Louie chirped and Belle poured, Dirk’s gaze dropped. Another contradiction. She wore oversize men’s shirts and undersize women’s jeans.

I’m a cad for admiring her upright character one moment and her backside character the next.

He eased in a slow breath. But a member of the male species would have to be seriously farsighted—or dead—to not admire the nicely rounded attributes of Belle O’Leary. Her gluteus maximus made him wish he’d studied Latin longer. His gaze slid to her molded thighs. What did she do to get such thighs? His ex-fiancée, Janine, had worked out with a personal trainer every day, but her thighs couldn’t hold a muscle to Belle’s. Those shapely contours had to be from some special exercise—maybe something she did for a living?

“I took squatter’s rights,” Belle said.

Dirk shifted his gaze to her face, which peered at him over her shoulder. “What are you doing?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

“I was...” Thigh gazing? “I was...wondering what you did for a living.” He flashed her his most charming smile.

Belle, still leaning over the seat, pressed her eyebrows together in a frown. She started to speak, stopped, then lifted the bottle of Evian. “Louie was thirsty, so I took squatter’s rights and stole your bottle of fancy water.” She swiveled and slid back down into the passenger seat. “Why were you wondering what I did for a living?”

He didn’t like how Lover Boy, lolling on the floor of the passenger seat, stared up at him. He swore the feline’s deadpan stare had an accusatory glint.

Dirk fiddled with some buttons on the instrument panel. “Doesn’t that cat of yours ever blink?” Felt warmer in here. He punched a button several times, decreasing the temperature.

“Of course he blinks.” Belle peered into her pet’s face for a moment. “He’s just...meditating. It’s been a rough day.”

Meditating? There she went again, translating her cat’s moods. Did she have some kind of pet-andowner psychic connection? Inwardly, he shuddered at the thought of having a mind meld with the living ottoman. One probably received random images of oversize kibbles cavorting with cans of tuna.

“I have an idea what you do for a living,” Belle said emphatically, interrupting Dirk’s thoughts.

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