Ms. Match Read Online Free PDF

fixated on good looks. Or charm, for that matter.
    None of her relationships, other than familial, were based on appearances. The only things she cared about were on the inside. She’d learned early that kindness was a huge thing, even more important than intelligence and wit. She’d built her life around that very principle, and it had made her, for the most part, happy.
    Although Paul had shown kindness tonight, she wasn’t at all convinced it was genuine. He was after Autumn. That revealed a great deal.
    It didn’t matter, in the end. She’d gotten drunk. So what. Tomorrow, her real life would continue. She’d remember the dancing which had been such a fun surprise. And she’d use tonight as another reminder that too much alcohol was not her friend.
    For now, she’d be very happy if the damn room would stop whirling.
    She heard Paul leave the bathroom, but she didn’t turn to look at him. She closed her eyes, even though that made things a lot worse.
    She felt the covers move, his weight dipping the mattress. The room went dark with the click of a switch. Then she felt him slide in beside her.
    Her eyes open once again, she willed herself to pass out so she wouldn’t be so very aware of this man, this virtual stranger, stretched out beside her. He groaned, and she sympathized. A few seconds later, after he’d made some adjustments, he stilled. She relaxed.
    She could smell him.
    Nothing at all unpleasant about it. Soap, clean skin. Damp hair. Intimate.
    She became achingly aware that she was in her underwear. Her plain department store panties and bra.
    Was he in his? Boxers? Briefs? Those sexy European trunks that looked so appealing in the magazines? Surely he wasn’t naked.
    Her eyes closed again, and this time, she was the one to moan. Not just from the dizziness, either.
    “You okay?” he whispered.
    “No. I’m an idiot.”
    He sighed. “Me, too. I can’t stop spinning.”
    “I’m too old for this kind of nonsense.” She shifted a bit on the bed, then froze, not wanting to touch him by accident. “Even when I was young I was too old for this.”
    “It’s not all that dire. I, for one, will look back on this night not for being drunk off my ass, but for having a hell of a good time. I can’t remember the last time I danced like that.”
    Gwen couldn’t help her smile. “Yeah. It was pretty great.”
    She waited for him to speak again, but there was only the sound of his breathing. Perhaps he’d fallen asleep. Of course he had. It was absurdly late.
    Once more, she closed her eyes and once more she moaned. It was cut short by the touch of his hand on her arm. Under the covers.
    “I can call down for some Alka-Seltzer,” he said. “There wasn’t any in the care baskets.”
    Should she move? No. She should ignore it. Him. “No, that’s okay. The spinning will stop soon.”
    “Promise?”
    “Wish I could.”
    “You know,” he said, “it kind of helps to talk. At least for me. But that’s nuts, so never mind.”
    “No, it’s not,” she said as she prayed he’d move his hand. “It does help, I think.”
    “Crap.”
    “What’s wrong?” She almost turned. Didn’t.
    “I forgot to get water. Be back in a sec.”
    His hand lifted and she breathed again. As the bed jiggled it occurred to her that drunkenness wasn’t her worst sin of the night. Being ridiculous had that honor. She was behaving like a child. A ninny. Like one of her sisters.
    The light from the small fridge made her look. Boxers. Nice ones, though not the kind she’d been hoping for.
    “You want one?” he asked.
    “I’m good.”
    He stood there, bare but for his undies, his head back, water bottle at his lips. He drank greedily, and even in the weird light she could see his Adam’s apple bob.
    Okay, so she wasn’t being a complete moron. The guy was outside of her experience. The situation was incredibly intimate. Who wouldn’t feel intimidated?
    Paul turned to face her, backlit to perfection. “That made