Love Letters, Inc. Read Online Free

her mouth shut. Temporarily, at least, she was at a loss for words. How could a man look so good, smell so good, and still be obnoxious?
    "Do you actually make a living writing love letters?" he asked, his tone implying the activity was a link short of performing live sex for a sailor's stag.
    "No. Most of my cash comes from writing smut on the walls of public washrooms." She smiled broadly and took control. "But a girl's gotta eat."
    "Okay, okay. Sorry."
    He didn't look sorry, but she forgave him because of his aftershave.
    "Actually, the letters are a sideline," she conceded. "I'm a technical writer for MooreWrite Inc. And I'm truly sorry about the letters you've been getting... Kent, but I think I know a way to stop them."
    "I thought you said she'd bought fifty-two, and that you'd already written and sent them to her?"
    "Well, yes, that's true, but—"
    "Is that your real hair color?" he asked suddenly.
    "Excuse me?" She automatically raised a hand to touch her crowning headache. It had woken up with an attitude this morning. Rosie had accepted long ago that her hair had a life of its own. Somedays, she left it to wander. This was one of those days.
    "I asked if that's your natural hair color?"
    "You think I'd pay for this?" She wondered if all the man's neurons were firing. And she wasn't too crazy about the way he was studying her, either. Feature by feature, as if he were committing her to memory. His scrutiny made her stomach rickety.
    He paused, then dipped his chin. "I like it," he said finally.
    She wasn't sure he was saying it to her or himself. She stared at him through her glasses and blinked. Having a conversation with Kent Summerton was like navigating a maze with a bag over your head. Come to think of it, the idea of being stuck in a maze with this man wouldn't be too hard to take.
    Back to business, Rosie!
    "Do you think we could leave the subject of my hair and talk about your problem now?" She fervently wished he'd quit staring at her. Those green eyes of his were doing the most outrageous things to her nervous system, which was none too reliable in the first place.
    He continued to stare until she waved a hand in front of his face. "Mr. Summerton? Kent. Are you okay?"
    "Huh?" He gave her a vacant look. "Oh... yeah, the letters."
    Rosie tapped her index finger against her chin and waited for him to dredge up what wits he had. How sad. For a guy so good to look at, he had a regrettably short attention span.
    He leaned forward then, rested his elbows on his knees, and riveted his smoky jade gaze to hers. "Tell me your plan, Rosie. I can't wait to hear it."

 
     
     
    Chapter 3

     
    Kent couldn't take his eyes off her. Rosie O'Hanlon was the glowingest woman he'd ever met. It was as though he were looking into a prism; a brilliant tumble of red hair, bright lively blue eyes framed with auburn lashes, and the whitest, smoothest skin he'd ever seen, spattered with golden freckles. Add to that she had on green jeans and a sweater—he briefly closed his eyes against the glare—in a pink strong enough to cure blindness. Then there were the oversize glasses, sort of a marine blue, that she kept pushing up a nose that looked too delicate to even hold the things. One arm on the glasses had a piece of wire holding it to the frame. He glanced at her feet. Checkered black and white socks—no shoes.
    He blinked and forced his gaze back to her face. Was that a mole on her cheek, just below her right eye, or was it an enlarged freckle?
    "...not sure it will work, of course. But we can give it a try. What do you think?"
    He tore his brain from the mole/freckle question and caught her puzzled gaze. He had no idea what she was saying.
    "Could I have a glass of water, please?" If he'd been wearing a tie he'd have loosened it. He wasn't just warm, he was stunned by his over-the-top reaction to a woman who probably kept a stash of Mickey Mouse hats in her closet. Freckles. He'd never cared for freckles. Now he couldn't help