Rescued in a Wedding Dress Read Free Page A

mountain climbers. Pirates. Ah, yes, pirates with all that mysterious charm.
    He dispensed with the hook at the top of the zipper in a split second, a man who had dispensed with such delicate items many times? And then he paused, apparently realizing the height of the zipper would make it nearly impossible for her to manage the rest by herself—she hoped he would not consider how much determination it had taken her to get it up in the first place—and then slid the zipper down a sensuous inch or two.
    With that same altered sense of alertness Molly could feel cool air on that small area of her newly exposed naked back, and then, though she did not glance back, she could feel heat. His gaze? Her own jumbled thoughts?
    Molly fought the chicken in her that just wanted to bolt out the open door. Instead, she turned and faced him.
    “There you go,” he said mildly, rocking back on his heels. The heat must have come from her own badly rattled thoughts, because his eyes were cool, something veiled in their intriguing silver depths.
    “Thank you,” she said, struggling to keep her voice deliberately controlled to match the look in his eyes. “I’m sorry to interrupt.”
    “No, no, Molly,” Miss Viv said, and it was a mark of the intensity of her encounter with him that Molly was actually jarred by the fact Miss Viv was still in the room. “I called your office to invite you to meet Mr. Whitford. I’m going on an unscheduled holiday, and Mr. Whitford is taking the helm.”
    Molly felt the shock of Miss Viv’s announcement ripple down a spine that had already been thoroughly shocked this morning. But even as she dealt with the shock, part of her mused with annoying dreaminess, helm. Pirate. I knew it.
    “Houston Whitford, Molly Michaels,” Miss Viv said. The introduction seemed ridiculously formal considering the rather astounding sense of intimacy Molly had just felt under his touch.
    Still, now she felt duty-bound to extend her hand, and be touched again, even as she was digesting the fact he was in charge. How could that be? Molly was always in charge when Miss Viv was away!
    And Miss Viv was going on a holiday, but hadn’t told anyone? Second Chances was a family and far better than Molly’s family of origin at providing a place that was safe, and supportive, and rarely unpredictable.
    “There are going to be a few changes,” Miss Viv said, cheerfully, as if Molly’s nice safe world was in no way being threatened. “And no one is more qualified to make them than Mr. Whitford. I expect Second Chances is going to blossom, absolutely go to the next level, under his leadership. I’m thrilled to pass the reins to him.”
    But Molly felt the threat of her whole world shifting.Miss Viv was stepping down? The feeling only intensified when Houston Whitford’s hand—warm, strong, cool—touched her skin again. His hand enveloped her hand and despite the pure professionalism of his shake, the hardness of his grip told her something, as did the glittering silver light in his eyes.
    He was not the usual kind of person who worked an ill-paying job at a charity. His suit said something his hands did not: that he was used to a world of higher finances, higher-power, higher-tech.
    The only thing that was higher at Second Chances was the satisfaction, the feeling of changing the world for the better.
    The cost of his suit probably added up to their operating budget for a month! He didn’t fit the cozy, casual and rather shabby atmosphere of the Second Chances office at all.
    She felt the unmistakable tingle of pure danger all along her spine. There was something about Houston Whitford that was not adding up. Change followed a man like that as surely as pounding rain followed the thunderstorm.
    Molly, her father had said, on the eve of leaving their family home forever, there is going to be a change.
    And she had been allergic to that very thing ever since! She wanted her world to be safe and unchanging and that view had