“You have a cat named Mr. Darcy?”
Grace smiled at that being the thing Carla had latched onto. “I do.”
Carla shook her head as she spluttered with laughter. “Okay, you win. But if you change your mind, we’re going to The Anchor, and we’ll be there until at least eight thirty…?”
Grace appreciated being included, but she already knew she wouldn’t be changing her mind. Not only did she not drink, but she didn’t go into pubs either. Or lounge bars. Or anywhere else where alcohol was sold.
It was a throwback from a childhood spent with a controlling and violent father who, when he was drunk, wasn’t averse to taking out his frustrations on his wife. He was dead now, as was her mother, but Grace’s aversion to alcohol had persevered.
“Do you— Oh my…”
Grace glanced up as Carla almost purred those last two words. Following the other woman’s gaze toward the front of the store, Grace could easily see why.
The man standing just inside the doorway of the bookstore had to be the most stunningly attractive man she’d ever set eyes on.
Probably aged in his mid to late thirties, he was several inches over six feet tall, with expertly styled short black hair. His face—dear God, his face was a work of art. Slightly swarthy, with winged dark brows over eyes of a bright royal blue, his nose long and straight between high cheekbones. His mouth was blatantly sensual, with a plump bottom lip that cried out to be bitten and sucked—
What on earth was she doing?
Grace had never just looked at a man and had a sexual fantasy about him.
But Lord, Grace couldn’t help but appreciate this man’s wide shoulders and muscular chest, both shown to advantage in a bespoke black suit jacket and pristine white shirt, with a silver tie knotted meticulously at his throat. He had long legs that, once wrapped about the back of a woman’s thighs, would easily hold her in place while he thrust—
She had to stop this.
Now!
Because if she didn’t, she was going to totally embarrass herself by groaning her arousal out loud merely from looking at this ultra-sexy man.
“Oh my.” Carla seemed to be having a similar visceral reaction to him, causing her to reach out and grasp a bookshelf to keep from being knocked completely off balance. “Did you ever see such a gorgeous man as that before?”
No, Grace was pretty sure she never had. But the men she’d met in the past who were even half as handsome as this one were apt to have egos to match. She doubted Mr. Sexy Pouty Mouth was going to be any different—
Mr. Sexy Pouty Mouth?
This was utterly ridiculous. Okay, so the man did have full and slightly pouty and very sexy lips, ones she could easily imagine suckling on her—
Grace gave a shake of her head as she released a self-disgusted snort. “He’s probably an actor who got lost on his way to the theater and wandered in here instead.” They were close to one of London’s premier theaters.
Carla chuckled. “Or he just came in from the torrential rain falling outside.”
Grace had been so intent on unpacking books and then become captivated by this man’s looks that she hadn’t even noticed it was raining outside. She could now see rain falling out of the front window of the bookstore. The downpour was so hard, it was bouncing off the pavement and road and making it hard for pedestrians and drivers to see more than a couple of feet in front of them.
Her gaze returned to the man standing just inside the shop. He was focused on reading a message on the screen of his mobile and then answering it, but now that Grace looked at him again, she could see the shoulders of that perfectly tailored black jacket were glistening with drops of rain. As was his hair, giving it a slightly blue sheen under the harsh lights. The store was in a row of other stores and windowless apart from the huge front display, requiring they have all the lights on inside during opening hours.
Grace also noticed something else. The man didn’t speak, hadn’t moved, and yet several people, also using the bookstore to shelter from the rain, took one look at him and instantly ensured they walked several feet around him. As if he had an invisible fuck off shield wrapped around him. Or something more sinister.
“Maybe I should just go over there and ask him if there’s anything I can help him with,” Carla mused, her lascivious dark gaze still fixed on a man who appeared totally oblivious to their, and anyone else’s, interest in him. “I could start by offering to remove that damp jacket and shirt, and then suggest ways of warming him up.”
Grace gave another chuckle. “Go for it.” She smiled. “But be warned, there’s probably absolutely nothing between his—”
“Oh, I think I can see a sizeable bulge in the front of his trousers,” Carla drooled.
“—ears,” Grace finished with another laugh. “In my experience, men as good-looking as him don’t seem to think they have to bother trying in the intelligence department too.”
“Who gives a damn about his brain when he has a body like that one!” the other woman scoffed.
Well…Grace did, for one. Being handsome was all well and good, but at some stage, once the initial lust wore off, surely it was necessary to be able to have a conversation with one’s lover.
“Those shoulders alone are to die for,” Carla continued to drool. “I wonder if he has defined pecs too— Oh God, he’s coming this way!” Her voice rose several octaves in her excitement.
He was indeed walking toward them, those long, muscular legs eating up the distance between the door and where Grace and Carla were standing
