she glanced down at her chili, trying to stifle her sudden, inexplicable fascination with his body. She took a slow, deep breath, hoping the flush she could feel burning her face wasn’t visible to anyone else in the room.
What was the matter with her? she wondered uneasily. So what if the man was built like the embodiment of every sexual fantasy she’d ever had. She was old enough to know that sexual attraction was nothing more than nature’s way of ensuring the continuation of the species.
Compulsively her gaze returned to the man. Maybe so, she conceded, but in his case, nature had certainly baited one very attractive trap.
She watched from beneath her lashes as the man walked toward the bar, sat down and reached for a glass of beer the bartender placed in front of him without a word ever having been spoken.
A regular patron, Gina concluded as she studied the man’s ruggedly carved features, her eyes lingering on the strength of his square chin. He had a strong face. Not conventionally handsome, but arresting. Full of character and strength.
Gina watched as he awkwardly picked up his beer with his left hand. Curious, her gaze swung to his right hand and she noticed a cast peeping out from beneath the sleeve of his sweater. He appeared to have broken either his arm or his wrist.
Her eyes narrowed speculatively as he impatiently shoved his fingers through his inky black hair. Nick, whoever he was, did not appear to be in the best of humors. Was his arm painful? she wondered, finding the idea strangely unacceptable. Or maybe something else was bothering him? Maybe he was recovering from a bad relationship? she thought fancifully. Maybe his heart was broken?
Gina’s gaze traced over the sensual line of his lips and mentally jettisoned the idea. He looked like a man who would break hearts, not have his own broken.
Absently, she picked up her spoon and started to eat, her eyes never leaving Nick. He appealed to her on an instinctive level she hadn’t even been aware had existed until now.
Sex, she mocked her own reaction. That was all it was. Plain old animal attraction.
But what an animal Nick was, she thought dreamily. The king of the beasts. Rugged and…
“Here’s your pie, miss,” the waitress’s voice broke into her thoughts.
Gina blinked and looked down, surprised to see that she’d finished her chili.
“Thank you,” Gina said, hoping the woman hadn’t noticed her preoccupation with Nick.
It was a vain hope. The waitress leaned closer and whispered, “That’s our Nick Balfour. He has a place outside-a town. Known him since he was a kid. And his folks before him. And he ain’t got no wife tucked away like some I could mention. You like what you see, kiddo, grab it. Life’s too short not to.”
Gina’s stomach did a sudden flip-flop, and her fingers began to tingle as she imagined what Nick would feel like if she were brave enough to take the woman’s advice and grab him. He’d feel firm and warm and…
“Think about it, kiddo. Like they say, you only go round once.”
“Um, thank you,” Gina muttered.
Satisfied, the waitress gave her a thumbs-up and sauntered off.
Taking a deep breath to slow her racing heart, Gina looked back at Nick. He was staring into his beer as if he expected to find the secret of eternal life written on the bottom of the glass.
There was no getting around it. She found Nick Balfour fascinating, she faced the fact with her usual lack of self-deception. At least, she found his physical appearance fascinating, and she’d very much like to find out if his personality measured up to his body’s promise.
No, nobody could have a personality as great as his body was, she conceded. She simply wanted to see if the personality came anywhere close.
So how did one go about picking up a man in a bar? Gina searched her memory for a clue and came up blank. The situation had never come up before.
Think. She tried to organize her muddled thoughts into a plan. Women have been picking up men since time immemorial. If they can do it, so can you.
Maybe she could make a comment that demanded an answer? Something like what’s a gorgeous hunk like you doing nursing a beer in a backwater bar like this? Gina choked on her coffee at the thought of actually being blasé enough to say something that trite.
There was always the weather or that old chestnut about haven’t we met before. But even if she was willing to try such a clichéd opening, first she had to get close enough to him to do it.
She laid her fork down beside the now-empty pie plate and considered the problem. If she walked over to him and tried to strike up a conversation, and he brushed her off or, even worse, ignored her, she’d be mortified.
But did it really matter if she was embarrassed? She didn’t know any of these people. Did she really care what they thought? No, she didn’t, but she did care what Nick thought, she conceded. It might not make any sense, considering the fact that he was a stranger, but she did care what he thought of her.
She cast a furtive glance at his uncompromising profile. He was still staring into his beer. He certainly wasn’t watching her. She doubted if he’d even seen her when he’d come in. Not really seen her. Men almost never did. She was too tall and too skinny and too…too nondescript to generate much interest in the opposite sex.
Face it, Gina Tessereck, she told herself. You haven’t got what it takes to set masculine hearts ablaze. But it would be nice if she could ignite a spark of interest in just one, she thought wistfully.
She grimaced. The list of what she would like to be different in her life was as long as her arm, and moaning about it wasn’t going to change anything. Only action would change things. And no matter how uncomfortable or embarrassing it might turn out to be, she was determined to change. To grow. She’d given herself until the winter semester at college began to expand her horizons. And she intended to start by traveling and by exploring an emotional relationship with a man.
Compulsively, her gaze returned to Nick. He looked as if he were positively bursting with fantastic possibilities. All she had to do was to have the courage to tap them. Her lips firmed in determination.
Opening her purse, she took out money to pay her bill and dropped it on the table along with a good-size tip for the helpful waitress as she mulled over the problem of making contact with Nick.
She could walk up to the bar and ask the bartender for a bottle of beer to take out with her, she considered. Then, while the bartender was getting it, she could turn to Nick and ask him if he knew of any bed-and-breakfast places nearby. It was a reasonable question to use to start a conversation.
Swallowing nervously, Gina got to her feet. But before she could move toward the bar, someone touched her arm.
Startled, she turned to find herself looking at a slightly overweight, middle-aged man who gave her a leering smile and then ran his eyes over her body with a lascivious look that made her skin crawl.
“I beg your pardon!” Gina gave him her best imitation of her mother’s freezing outrage. “I don’t believe I’ve met you.”
“That’s easy enough to fix. I’m Jim, and
