His book slid lower, blocking a significant part of those yummy pecs.
With that lovely view obscured, Sophie went for the face, hoping it would be as pleasant as the rest of him.
She felt her breath literally catch in her throat, like in the romance novels she loved to read. Oh my. Was it ever!
Not quite as pretty as John Schneider back in his Dukes of Hazzard days, he had that all-American cutie pie thing going for him. But this wholesome boy next door was all grown up and one hundred percent bad boy. The angular line of his jaw and cheekbones, the coating of dark blond stubble, and the wicked glint in his liquid chocolate eyes was enough to make her inner girl swoon with delight. Immediately, without thinking, she checked his left hand for a ring.
When her gaze returned to his face, she noted that one eyebrow had lifted in question. And one corner of his mouth had lifted in amusement, which reminded her that she’d been standing there, sandwiched between his scrumptious body and the bookshelf, for probably too long for safety—his safety, that is.
“Sorry…” Sophie mumbled, not sure what else to say. She’d never behaved like this around a man before. Granted, she’d never seen a man this gorgeous before—at least not in real life. In the movies, yes. On TV, yes. In her dreams, oh yes. “I’ll just shuffle off to Buffalo now.”
His chuckle hit her right in the belly, where it bubbled and tickled her insides. Her face heated.
“I’m guessing you’re either a displaced New Yorker or a dancer then?” he asked in a low, rumbly voice that made that inner girly part perk up and take notice, along with a few other parts of her anatomy.
“Actually, neither. I’m just a secretary from Hazel Park.” Who thinks you’re yummy. Want to go check out the park down the street? I know where there’s a cozy, dark little corner where we could have some privacy, let our tongues get acquainted.
Both his other eyebrow and the right side of his mouth joined the left in their raised positions, producing the kind of smile that could drop a girl of weaker constitution at fifty paces.
She took another step and cleared her throat because she was sure something very large had become wedged in there somehow when she wasn’t looking. “Doing some research on religious relics. I was looking for a book called…” She tried to remember the title but realized it had slipped her mind eons ago, like the second she’d seen him. “Oh, shoot. I forgot. Something about relics and cures.”
He held up the book he’d been reading, turned it over, and said. “You mean, Religious Relics, Icons, Visions and Cures by James Murrow?”
“Yes! That’s the one. Oh. You’re reading it then? Were you going to check it out?”
“I was thinking about it.”
“Oh drat! I…er…” She dropped her gaze to his toes because that seemed to be the only body part she could look at and still be able to operate her brain and took a third sidestep, which landed her a fairly safe distance from him. “I don’t suppose I could convince you to let me have it instead?”
“Hmmm. As much as I’d love to see how you intended to do that, I have to be honest and say no. I really need this book.”
“What about bribery? I’m not rich but I’d be willing to clean out my bank account to get my hands on it.”
To his credit, he looked genuinely remorseful as he shook his head. “Sorry again. But I promise I’ll return it as soon as I’m through.”
“Three weeks could be too late. I need to find the Roman-ick Yee-how-shoo-ah and Mawmee Dahveed before my best friend becomes dinner for his wife.”
“You mean Romakh Yehowshu’a and Mawgane Dahveed?”
“Yes. That’s what I said, er, wasn’t it?”
He nodded. “Close enough.”
“Anyway, I don’t expect you to believe me, but I need to find out about those relics because I think I might need them to help a friend of mine.”
“Your friend’s married to a lamia?”
Sophie threw her hands in the air. “Why is it that everyone seems to know about those lamiae people but me? Well, at least I know now that Tim isn’t completely crackers or making it up.”
“Tim?”
“My boss. He’s a paranormal researcher and half the time you can’t believe a word he says. Good guy but if you ask me, he’s a few cards shy of a full deck, if you know what I mean. The things he believes in.”
“Like?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Ghosts, vampires, and the like. I don’t believe a bit of it but my pal’s pretty sick and although I figure a trip to a medical doctor—and maybe a vacation—would probably take care of whatever his problem is, I owe it to him to check out all the possibilities. I try to have an open mind, you see. I’ve even been to a massage therapist once. Now, that was an experience, let me tell you. But I draw the line at believing in creatures of the night.”
He looked far too amused for her comfort. “Ah, yes. Those are pretty silly superstitions, aren’t they?”
“Yes! Thank you. A voice of reason. Silly superstitions, unless you’re one of those weirdos who go to the dentist and pay for bonding so you can look like a vampire. To each their own, I guess.”
“Yes. That’s a wise stand to take.” He nodded. His eyes sparkled as his grin turned wry.
“Are you humoring me?”
In a flash the expression changed again, this time turning all innocent. She didn’t buy it. Not at all. But that didn’t stop it from making various and sundry parts of her warm and toasty. “Who, me? Oh, no. I never humor a woman. It’s not a smart thing to do.”
“You got that right, buster.” She gave him a playful jab in the stomach. Her knuckles struck cotton-sheathed concrete and popped. “Youch!” She shook her hand. “Spend some serious time in the gym, do ya?”
“I used to. Yes. Been taking it easy these days.” He tucked the book under his arm, caught her wrist in a grip that felt like steel bands, and stared into her eyes. Once again, she felt her breath catch in her throat. His gaze was intense. It seemed to delve deep into her brain. She giggled at the funny feeling inside her head, a soft tickling she’d never felt before, like there was a soft bunny rustling around in there. A flash of heat shot through her body, blazing a zigzaggy path down her torso, through her groin, and down to the ground. Then a wave of ice cold followed, making her shiver and coating her entire body in goose bumps.
Who was this man? More, why did he make her feel like she was going to alternately melt and freeze after the most innocent touch? Normally, she didn’t get this turned on during the main event.
He lifted her hand to his lips and brushed them over her knuckles. The inner girly part dragged out the sex toys and screamed, Let the games begin! as she fought to resist throwing him to the ground and jumping his bones.
Ric Vogel gazed at the adorable chatterbox of a woman in stunned silence. He’d never given much credit to that whole love-at-first-sight thing, had always dismissed it as a foolish notion,
