by the car. I'm a perfect gentleman."
"And I'm supposed to believe that?"
"Why not?"
She raised her eyebrows, "You could be some crazed lunatic for all I know." She paused for a moment, "I...ah--"
Danielle studied his face, chiseling earnest hazel eyes narrowed, dark hair neatly trimmed and beguiling expression, as he lazed against the passenger door, waiting for her answer.
Considering the circumstances she knew he was a perfect stranger, and nice girls don't go wondering off with strange men they met in a dark garage, even if it was Sunday morning--even if he was deliciously gorgeous. But there was some mind-blowing reasoning behind the backbone and audacity to follow her gut, despite her biased suspicion.
"Perfect gentleman, huh?" she contemplated, as she flung the pearly pashmina over her camel hair overcoat against the ensuing chill of February. It wouldn't take much convincing with his thick lashes sweeping across his brown eyes and the subtle dimple his right cheek swooned to the surface that won her over completely.
After the horrific tailspin, Danielle was still quite naturally overwhelmed with a looming nightmare on her hands. She was still vulnerable. But this vulnerability would be shattered by her gutsy audacity to fall short of victim.
"Ready?" he asked.
She nodded, fighting back a smile.
Roman keyed the elevator for the twentieth-floor penthouse as she stood in awe of his towering six-foot four physique, which dwindled hers to a life-sized Barbie.
Her voluminous curls sprung to life and flowed the bosom of her opalescence, as Roman stood with one hand in his pocket with the other sprawled against the wall scrolling her from head to toe. In the slotted burst of sunlight, her hair looked like silken chestnut in his eyes.
Doing his best not to stare at the valley of her low-cut sweater knit, he could've sworn she'd rival any supermodel. Not the kind that starve themselves to be a size zero.
"So, ah...I guess you have the guys standing in line to go out with you." He paused, his gaze shadowing his brazen attempt to make conversation.
He watched intensely as her moist lips painted a delicious shade of honey raspberry and were slightly parted when she mouthed, "Umm."
She was a vision in pearled ivory--a graceful snow queen--a sumptuous whipped cream vanilla sundae. Beautifully mesmerizing in her glittery pashmina, infusing her luscious locks the intoxicating fragrance of rose violet.
Danielle combed her fingers through her hair, and she didn't seem at all disconcerted to discover him looking back at her. Instinctively, she creased a weak smile at him, and her expression shifted from furtive to serious.
She swallowed, trying not to be defensive as she ran her hands through her hair, "Well, not really." Clearing her throat, she said, "Ah, well you could say I'm...ah--" The elevator arrived in the knick of time before she stuttered something she couldn't take back.
"Okay. Thanks for--" Danielle said, as she straightened.
He laid a hand on her arm. "Wait. It doesn't have to be over. We just met, don't you want to invite me in for drinks or something?"
"I'm sorry, but I'm still a little rattled from earlier. I'm not in the mood--" She drooped her head and peered up from beneath her lashes. "I just don't think I'd be great company right now. Maybe tomorrow or another time."
Her suddenly nerveless hand lost its grip on the keys she'd scooped from the pit of her black alligator handbag. Her keys clanged the marble and flew to the tip of her matching stiletto boots.
As Roman knelt down, she glanced over him for several intense seconds at his lush thick hair. She could almost imagine running her hands all through it. Now's not the time. Snap out of it. She mumbled under her breath as he rose to hand her the keys.
"Oh. My. God." She blared syllabically.
Three words couldn't describe the chaos that up heaved the episode from earlier. The elevator staggered open into the apartment. She'd almost tripped
"And I'm supposed to believe that?"
"Why not?"
She raised her eyebrows, "You could be some crazed lunatic for all I know." She paused for a moment, "I...ah--"
Danielle studied his face, chiseling earnest hazel eyes narrowed, dark hair neatly trimmed and beguiling expression, as he lazed against the passenger door, waiting for her answer.
Considering the circumstances she knew he was a perfect stranger, and nice girls don't go wondering off with strange men they met in a dark garage, even if it was Sunday morning--even if he was deliciously gorgeous. But there was some mind-blowing reasoning behind the backbone and audacity to follow her gut, despite her biased suspicion.
"Perfect gentleman, huh?" she contemplated, as she flung the pearly pashmina over her camel hair overcoat against the ensuing chill of February. It wouldn't take much convincing with his thick lashes sweeping across his brown eyes and the subtle dimple his right cheek swooned to the surface that won her over completely.
After the horrific tailspin, Danielle was still quite naturally overwhelmed with a looming nightmare on her hands. She was still vulnerable. But this vulnerability would be shattered by her gutsy audacity to fall short of victim.
"Ready?" he asked.
She nodded, fighting back a smile.
Roman keyed the elevator for the twentieth-floor penthouse as she stood in awe of his towering six-foot four physique, which dwindled hers to a life-sized Barbie.
Her voluminous curls sprung to life and flowed the bosom of her opalescence, as Roman stood with one hand in his pocket with the other sprawled against the wall scrolling her from head to toe. In the slotted burst of sunlight, her hair looked like silken chestnut in his eyes.
Doing his best not to stare at the valley of her low-cut sweater knit, he could've sworn she'd rival any supermodel. Not the kind that starve themselves to be a size zero.
"So, ah...I guess you have the guys standing in line to go out with you." He paused, his gaze shadowing his brazen attempt to make conversation.
He watched intensely as her moist lips painted a delicious shade of honey raspberry and were slightly parted when she mouthed, "Umm."
She was a vision in pearled ivory--a graceful snow queen--a sumptuous whipped cream vanilla sundae. Beautifully mesmerizing in her glittery pashmina, infusing her luscious locks the intoxicating fragrance of rose violet.
Danielle combed her fingers through her hair, and she didn't seem at all disconcerted to discover him looking back at her. Instinctively, she creased a weak smile at him, and her expression shifted from furtive to serious.
She swallowed, trying not to be defensive as she ran her hands through her hair, "Well, not really." Clearing her throat, she said, "Ah, well you could say I'm...ah--" The elevator arrived in the knick of time before she stuttered something she couldn't take back.
"Okay. Thanks for--" Danielle said, as she straightened.
He laid a hand on her arm. "Wait. It doesn't have to be over. We just met, don't you want to invite me in for drinks or something?"
"I'm sorry, but I'm still a little rattled from earlier. I'm not in the mood--" She drooped her head and peered up from beneath her lashes. "I just don't think I'd be great company right now. Maybe tomorrow or another time."
Her suddenly nerveless hand lost its grip on the keys she'd scooped from the pit of her black alligator handbag. Her keys clanged the marble and flew to the tip of her matching stiletto boots.
As Roman knelt down, she glanced over him for several intense seconds at his lush thick hair. She could almost imagine running her hands all through it. Now's not the time. Snap out of it. She mumbled under her breath as he rose to hand her the keys.
"Oh. My. God." She blared syllabically.
Three words couldn't describe the chaos that up heaved the episode from earlier. The elevator staggered open into the apartment. She'd almost tripped
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