wanted a permanent attachment until I made a stark discovery: I was committed, but my intended was still dating. I called that period of my life the second time I was lost in an asylum.
The trio broke apart and came to our table continuing their conversation about the Dallas Cowboys’ loss last Sunday. Their absorption with football gave me a chance to study the Adonis who had tripped most of my triggers. He had classic facial features—chiseled nose, lean cheeks and square jaws. A sculptor’s dream. The irises of his eyes were so brown they were almost black and they were framed by lashes so thick and black they looked as if he were wearing mascara.
His dark brown hair touched his collar. It was thick with a bit of a curl that appeared to be controlled by a good cut. Slightly sun-streaked, it looked clean and natural and un-saturated with hair product. You could run your fingers through it without worrying about damaging it. He was sooo good-looking.
Greek god , my inner voice said.
I couldn’t stop staring, though I tried to be subtle.
All at once, he looked directly at me with a gaze so penetrating I felt as if he could see all the way through my clothing and the world tilted. An arcane force I couldn’t identify, much less describe, captured me. Drake Lockhart had a presence that commanded a room, but this stranger exuded even more powerful vibes. Though I had never seen him before, I knew him. Lead, follow or get out of my way. That trope scrolled through my mind and stuck. I was a total sucker for men like him.
As if all of that wasn’t enough to set off pandemonium within me, some instinct ingrained in my very core recognized a pure sexual energy rolling off him. A tingle darted through my sex and I shifted my feet to combat it. I had never been so carnally attracted to a man so instantly.
I had always thought it weird how one guy caused your hormones to riot and others didn’t. Gabe, for instance. Good-looking and smart. I was sure he had a brilliant future. By any girl’s standards, he was a good catch, but nothing about him roused my hormones or made a deep place low in my belly tighten as it was doing now.
The stranger was touched by me, too. I saw a flicker in those obsidian eyes. It had lasted for no more than a millisecond, but I was sure I wasn’t mistaken. The very thought that he might be attracted to me caused heat to radiate through my system and warm even my cheeks.
Stop it! I was not ready for this hormonal assault. I had simplified my life. I had given up men and sex. At least until I got my feet back under me after Donald Sloan. The man had used me, tried to change me and in the end, cheated on me.
I quickly looked down at the fliers stacked on the table.
Chapter 2
If Drake noticed the sizzle between his friend and me, I couldn’t tell. “Great party last night,” he said to me. “My wife wants me to tell you she envied your dress.”
I snapped out of the daze this stranger had put me in. My dress was enviable. Strategically adorned with crystal beads, it was a sleek black little number any fashion-conscious woman would adore. I had modeled it last year in Saks’ Christmas show. After I gushed over it, the department store had given it to me instead of money.
I gave a silly titter. “Be sure to tell her I said thanks.”
Drake turned to the stranger. “Tack, I need to talk to the concierge for a minute. This is Miranda March. She’s assisting in the open house today. She’ll escort you upstairs and show you around.” He turned back to me. “Miranda, this is Harvey Tackett. He lives in Midland, but he needs a small pad to use when he’s in the Metroplex on business.”
Midland, Texas. Oil. And money.
“Ah, Midland,” I managed to say with a smile, although my mouth had gone so dry my tongue felt thick. Willing my right hand not to tremble, I offered it.
Mr. Tackett’s clearly defined lips eased into a hint of a smile that showed the edges of straight white
The trio broke apart and came to our table continuing their conversation about the Dallas Cowboys’ loss last Sunday. Their absorption with football gave me a chance to study the Adonis who had tripped most of my triggers. He had classic facial features—chiseled nose, lean cheeks and square jaws. A sculptor’s dream. The irises of his eyes were so brown they were almost black and they were framed by lashes so thick and black they looked as if he were wearing mascara.
His dark brown hair touched his collar. It was thick with a bit of a curl that appeared to be controlled by a good cut. Slightly sun-streaked, it looked clean and natural and un-saturated with hair product. You could run your fingers through it without worrying about damaging it. He was sooo good-looking.
Greek god , my inner voice said.
I couldn’t stop staring, though I tried to be subtle.
All at once, he looked directly at me with a gaze so penetrating I felt as if he could see all the way through my clothing and the world tilted. An arcane force I couldn’t identify, much less describe, captured me. Drake Lockhart had a presence that commanded a room, but this stranger exuded even more powerful vibes. Though I had never seen him before, I knew him. Lead, follow or get out of my way. That trope scrolled through my mind and stuck. I was a total sucker for men like him.
As if all of that wasn’t enough to set off pandemonium within me, some instinct ingrained in my very core recognized a pure sexual energy rolling off him. A tingle darted through my sex and I shifted my feet to combat it. I had never been so carnally attracted to a man so instantly.
I had always thought it weird how one guy caused your hormones to riot and others didn’t. Gabe, for instance. Good-looking and smart. I was sure he had a brilliant future. By any girl’s standards, he was a good catch, but nothing about him roused my hormones or made a deep place low in my belly tighten as it was doing now.
The stranger was touched by me, too. I saw a flicker in those obsidian eyes. It had lasted for no more than a millisecond, but I was sure I wasn’t mistaken. The very thought that he might be attracted to me caused heat to radiate through my system and warm even my cheeks.
Stop it! I was not ready for this hormonal assault. I had simplified my life. I had given up men and sex. At least until I got my feet back under me after Donald Sloan. The man had used me, tried to change me and in the end, cheated on me.
I quickly looked down at the fliers stacked on the table.
Chapter 2
If Drake noticed the sizzle between his friend and me, I couldn’t tell. “Great party last night,” he said to me. “My wife wants me to tell you she envied your dress.”
I snapped out of the daze this stranger had put me in. My dress was enviable. Strategically adorned with crystal beads, it was a sleek black little number any fashion-conscious woman would adore. I had modeled it last year in Saks’ Christmas show. After I gushed over it, the department store had given it to me instead of money.
I gave a silly titter. “Be sure to tell her I said thanks.”
Drake turned to the stranger. “Tack, I need to talk to the concierge for a minute. This is Miranda March. She’s assisting in the open house today. She’ll escort you upstairs and show you around.” He turned back to me. “Miranda, this is Harvey Tackett. He lives in Midland, but he needs a small pad to use when he’s in the Metroplex on business.”
Midland, Texas. Oil. And money.
“Ah, Midland,” I managed to say with a smile, although my mouth had gone so dry my tongue felt thick. Willing my right hand not to tremble, I offered it.
Mr. Tackett’s clearly defined lips eased into a hint of a smile that showed the edges of straight white
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