she would’ve taken a deep breath before answering. Rita always knew how to press her hot buttons. “I just don’t want you to get hurt. Every time you talk about him, it gives me the creeps.”
Rita’s eyes narrowed, and she pinned Katelyn with a glare. “Are you trying to tell me you’ve had a vision about him?”
“No,” Katelyn reluctantly admitted.
“Then we’re done discussing this.” Rita, back to her overly cheerful self, gave Katelyn a quick hug and then stepped back but seemed just short of performing a pirouette. “Lock up for me, okay? I know it’s my turn, but because you still need to go talk to Romeo over there, I figure you can handle it.”
Katelyn shuddered as she watched her best friend and business partner bounce out the front door. The door chimes jingled merrily behind her, but for some reason they reminded Katelyn of a death knell.
She had asked Rita thousands of times to bring Aedan into the shop. If she could just shake hands with him, it might trigger a vision and give her more insight as to what bothered her about him.
No matter what Rita said, Katelyn’s gut clenched whenever Aedan’s name was brought up—and that definitely couldn’t be a good thing.
The movement of her dark stranger picking up his chai caught her attention, and she swiveled her head to watch, even as she bit back a long sigh of appreciation.
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, and she watched, transfixed, until he broke the spell by glancing her way and catching her staring again.
Damn!
His eyes reminded her of liquid amethyst, and each time their gazes locked, she felt as if she might drown in those deep purple depths. The corners of his lips curved, and then his attention returned to his book as he set the chai back on the table.
Once again, his gaze had held nothing but polite acknowledgement.
The loss of even that noncommittal attention made her feel suddenly chilly, and she rubbed her arms to chase away the gooseflesh.
She wasn’t under any delusion that she was “model” hot, but she was a reasonably attractive woman, and there had definitely been men in her past—even though she hadn’t allowed any of them to stay for long.
Hell, he could at least take one appreciative look before returning to his books, right?
Katelyn puffed out a breath that fluttered her bangs. “Men.”
She’d found herself openly staring at him hundreds of times throughout the day, and although he’d caught her a few times, she was sure she’d made it look nonchalant. She hoped.
But how could she help it? This man was a walking wet dream. His dark mahogany hair gleamed with almost auburn accents under the fluorescent lights. The hair looked soft as silk, and her fingers literally itched to reach out and touch.
He’d gathered it back into a simple ponytail that hung halfway down his back. She’d always thought men with long hair appeared too feminine for her taste, but no one would ever think to accuse him of anything of the sort.
The harsh, unforgiving lines of his face made him appear aloof, and his jaw seemed carved from solid granite. But…those sensual lips. They softened him, which made him rakishly handsome, even approachable.
His broad shoulders tapered to a trim waist and down to muscular thighs Katelyn could envision tracing with her tongue. His wasn’t the overly ripped physique of a bodybuilder which made men resemble plastic Ken dolls on steroids. Rather, he had the muscles that spoke of a male in his prime.
In fact, he oozed liquid masculine sex—something that, if bottled, would give spontaneous orgasms to every woman within a fifty-mile radius. A product Katelyn would definitely invest in for personal use.
She blinked and realized his intense amethyst gaze studied her briefly before returning to his book.
Damn! He caught me again. He’s going to think I’m a stalker.
She squared her shoulders, yanked on the bottom of her low-cut vee-necked top to ensure “the girls” were shown to best advantage, and walked from behind the display case toward him.
Sexual awareness tingled through every pore as she neared him. It was as if the air around him was drenched in pheromones designed to draw her closer. Her steps faltered as she briefly considered that he could be using a spell of some sort to draw her. Enough magick practitioners frequented her shop that she knew such things were possible; however, she had never used them herself.
Her senses expanded, sampling the energy around him. When she found nothing amiss, she resumed her confident trek forward to stand in front of him. Katelyn cleared her throat before speaking. “Excuse me.”
He looked up, and her breath caught as the full intensity of his gaze settled over her, causing her blood to heat and her libido to sit up and beg. He seemed to see deep inside her to places with dark secrets best forgotten. A sudden mental image of one of those long fingers tracing a line between her breasts and straight to her clit flashed through her, and she resisted the urge to shiver.
His lips curved. “How may I be of service?”
The deep bass rumble of his voice surprised her, and not just because it seemed to feather against her nipples, clit, and every intimate place she owned, but because of the formal way he spoke.
Where is this guy from?
Wherever he called home, the sensations his voice created made her realize just how long it had been since she’d had a man willing and naked. Every erogenous zone on her body tingled and ached—adding their input to the equation.
The deluge of arousal brought to mind a laundry list of ways he could “be of service.” Katelyn breathed deep against the surge of lust before speaking. “I’m Katelyn Hunt, the owner. I’ve noticed you around the store for the past few days.”
And Rita thinks I’m freaking insane for obsessing over you.
He continued to study her as though memorizing her every nuance. She resisted the urge to fidget as a surge of moisture dampened the insides of her thighs and her skin began to feel achy and heavy with need. She swallowed hard and vowed to crank up the air-conditioning as a trickle of sweat lazily traced its way down her spine. “We’re getting ready to close. I thought maybe you’d like to go have a drink.” Or some kinky, mind-blowing, illegal-in-thirty-seven-countries sex.
In one languid movement, he stood, forcing her to crane her neck to look at his face. He reached down and took her hand in his before placing a gentle kiss on the back, which sent shock waves of arousal straight to her aching labia. “I’m Grayson—”
“Hello, Grayson.” An older woman pushed her considerable bulk between them, cutting off his words, forcing him to drop Katelyn’s hand and making Katelyn take a step back. “I’m Ethel Harding, and you’re the sexiest man I’ve seen around here since my fourth husband, Earl.”
Katelyn glared at the interfering woman who had pressed her ample bosom against Grayson’s arm while one hand caressed his chest. There was no way Katelyn was going to lose him to some woman who was ninety if she was a day—especially after she’d finally worked up the nerve to approach him. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Harding, but this
