But she didn’t now.
And she let them run wild as she too answered a policeman’s questions.
Billie supposed a lot of her friends wouldn’t classify Gareth as good looking purely because of his age. The grey whiskers putting some salt into the sexy growth of stubble at his jaw and the small lines around his eyes that crinkled a little as he smiled told her he had to be in his late thirties, early forties.
But, then, she’d always preferred older men.
She found maturity sexy. She liked the way, by and large, older men were content in their skins and didn’t feel the need to hem a woman in to validate themselves. The easy way they spoke and the way they carried their bodies and wore their experience on their faces and were comfortable with that. She liked the way so many of them didn’t seem like they had anything to prove.
She liked how Gareth embodied that. Even standing in the middle of an accident scene he looked at ease.
Gareth laughed at something the policeman said and she watched as he raked a piece of hair back that had flopped forward. She liked his hair. It was wavy and a little long at the back, brushing his collar, and he wore it swept back where it fell in neat rippled rows.
She’d noticed, as they’d tried to save the driver’s life, it was dark with some streaks of grey, like his whiskers.
And she liked that too.
His arm dropped back down by his side and her gaze drifted to his biceps. She’d noticed those biceps as well while they’d been working on their man. How could she not have? Every time she’d opened her eyes there they’d been, contracting and releasing with each downward compression.
Firm and taut. Barely covered—barely constrained—by his T-shirt.
Billie shivered. She wasn’t sure if it was from the power of his biceps alone or the fact he was wandering around on a winter’s night with just a T-shirt covering his chest.
Why hadn’t someone given him a blanket?
Although, to be fair, he did look a lot more appropriately dressed for a roadside emergency than she did. His jeans looked snug and warm, encasing long, lean legs, and he had been wearing a fleecy hoody.
It sure beat a nine-hundred-dollar dress and a pair of strappy designer shoes.
He looked up then, pointing in the direction she’d been driving, and their gazes met. He nodded at her briefly, before returning his attention to the police officer, and she found herself nodding back.
Yep, Billie acknowledged—Gareth was one helluva good-looking man. In fact, he ticked all her boxes. And if she was up for a fling or available for dating in the hectic morass of a resident’s life then he’d be exactly her type. But there was absolutely no hope for them now.
The man had held her hair back while she’d vomited.
She cringed again. If she ever saw him again it would be too soon.
Gareth was acutely aware of Billie’s gaze as he answered the police officer’s questions. It seemed to beam through the cold air like an invisible laser, hot and direct, hitting him fair in the chest, diffusing heat and awareness to every millimetre of his body.
It made her hard to ignore.
Of course, the fact she was sparkling like one of those movie vampires also made her hard to ignore.
The gauzy skirt of her black dress shimmered with hundreds of what looked like crystal beads. Who knew, maybe they were diamonds? The dress certainly didn’t look cheap. But they caught the multitude of lights strobing across the scene, refracting them like individual disco balls.
As if the dress and the petite figure beneath needed to draw any more attention to itself. Every man here, from the fireman to the paramedics, the police to the tow-truck driver, was sure as hell taking a moment to appreciate it.
Their attention irritated him. And the fact that it did irritated him even more. She was a stranger and they were at an accident scene, for crying out loud!
But it didn’t stop him from going over to her when the police officer was done. He told himself it was to check she was feeling okay now but the dress was weirdly mesmerising and he would have gone to her even if she’d not conveniently vomited twenty minutes ago.
She had her back to him but, as if she’d sensed him approaching, she turned as he neared. Her loose reddish-brown hair flowed silkily around her shoulders, her hair curling in long ringlets around her face. Huge gold hoop earrings he’d noticed earlier as she’d administered the kiss of life swung in her lobes, giving her a little bit of gypsy.
He smiled as he drew closer. She seemed to hesitate for a moment then reciprocated, her scarlet lipstick having worn off from her earlier ministrations.
‘You sure know how to dress for a little unscheduled roadside assistance,’ he said, as he drew to a halt in front of her.
Billie blinked, surprised by his opening line for a moment, and then she looked down at herself and laughed. ‘Oh, yes, sorry,’ she said, although she had absolutely no idea why she was apologising for her attire. ‘I’ve just come from a gala reception.’
This close his biceps were even more impressive and Billie had to grip the blanket hard to stop from reaching her hands out and running her palms over them. She wondered if they’d feel as firm and warm as they looked.
‘Aren’t you cold?’ she asked, engaging her mouth before her brain as she dragged her gaze back to his face.
He did a smile-shrug combo and Billie’s stomach did a little flip-flop combo in response. ‘I’m fine,’ he dismissed.
Billie grimaced. Where had she heard that already tonight? ‘I really am very sorry about earlier.’
‘Yeah.’ He grinned. His whole face crinkled and Billie lost her breath as his sexiness increased tenfold. ‘You’ve already said so. Three times.’
She blushed. ‘I know but … I think I may have splashed your shoes.’
Gareth looked down at his shoes. ‘They’ve seen far worse, trust me.’
‘Not exactly the impression I like to give people I’ve just met.’
Gareth shrugged. She needn’t have been worried about her impression on him—he doubted he was going to forget her in a long time, and it had nothing to do with his shoes and everything to do with how good she looked in those gold hoops and sparkly dress.
And if he’d been up for some flirting and some let’s-see-where-this-goes fun he might just have assured her out loud. He might just have suggested they try for a second impression. But hooking up really wasn’t his thing.
Hooking up at an accident scene even less so.
‘We haven’t exactly met properly, have we? I mean, not formally.’ He held out his hand. ‘I’m Gareth Stapleton. Very pleased to make your acquaintance—despite the circumstances.’
Billie slipped her hand into his and even though she’d expected
