The Welcoming Read Online Free PDF

with him, adjusting her pace from a flat-out run to an easy jog and back again.
    She hesitated briefly when she saw Roman. Then, because Ludwig sprinted ahead, she tightened her grip on the leash and kept pace.
    “Good morning,” she called out, then skidded to a halt when Ludwig decided to jump on Roman’s shins and bark at him. “He doesn’t bite.”
    “That’s what they all say.” But he grinned and crouched down to scratch between the dog’s ears. Ludwig immediately collapsed, rolled over and exposed his belly for rubbing. “Nice dog.”
    “A nice spoiled dog,” Charity added. “I have to keep him fenced because of the guests, but he eats like a king. You’re up early.”
    “So are you.”
    “I figure Ludwig deserves a good run every morning, since he’s so understanding about being fenced.”
    To show his appreciation, Ludwig raced once around Roman, tangling his lead around his legs.
    “Now if I could only get him to understand the concept of a leash.” She stooped to untangle Roman and to control the now-prancing dog.
    Her light jacket was unzipped, exposing a snug T-shirt darkened with sweat between her breasts. Her hair, pulled straight, almost severely, back from her face, accented her bone structure. Her skin seemed almost translucent as it glowed from her run. He had an urge to touch it, to see how it felt under his fingertips. And to see if that instant reaction would rush out again.
    “Ludwig, be still a minute.” She laughed and tugged at his collar.
    In response, the dog jumped up and lapped at her face. “He listens well,” Roman commented.
    “You can see why I need the fence. He thinks he can play with everyone.” Her hand brushed Roman’s leg as she struggled with the leash.
    When he took her wrist, both of them froze.
    He could feel her pulse skip, then sprint. It was a quick, vulnerable response that was unbearably arousing. Though it cost him, he kept his fingers loose. He had only meant to stop her before she inadvertently found his weapon. Now they crouched, knee to knee, in the center of the deserted road, with the dog trying to nuzzle between them.
    “You’re trembling.” He said it warily, but he didn’t release her. “Do you always react that way when a man touches you?”
    “No.” Because it baffled her, she kept still and waited to see what would happen next. “I’m pretty sure this is a first.”
    It pleased him to hear it, and it annoyed him, because he wanted to believe it. “Then we’ll have to be careful, won’t we?” He released her, then stood up.
    More slowly, because she wasn’t sure of her balance, she rose. He was angry. Though he was holding on to his temper, it was clear enough to see in his eyes. “I’m not very good at being careful.”
    His gaze whipped back to hers. There was a fire in it, a fire that raged and then was quickly and completely suppressed. “I am.”
    “Yes.” The brief, heated glance had alarmed her, but Charity had always held her own. She tilted her head to study him. “I think you’d have to be, with that streak of violence you have to contend with. Who are you mad at, Roman?”
    He didn’t like to be read that easily. Watching her, he lowered a hand to pet Ludwig, who was resting his front paws on his knees. “Nobody at the moment,” he told her, but it was a lie. He was furious—with himself.
    She only shook her head. “You’re entitled to your secrets, but I can’t help wondering why you’d be angry with yourself for responding to me.”
    He took a lazy scan of the road, up, then down. They might have been alone on the island. “Would you like me to do something about it, here and now?”
    He could, she realized. And he would. If he was pushed too far he would do exactly what he wanted, when he wanted. The frisson of excitement that passed through her annoyed her. Macho types were for other women, different women—not Charity Ford. Deliberately she looked at her watch.
    “Thanks. I’m sure that’s a