not real champagne.’
‘Hey, wait a minute! ‘ Mousy Man spluttered.
Tall Dark-Eyed Guy nailed Mousey Man with a look. ‘Do you want to tell her what you put in her glass or would you prefer to make a statement to the police?’
‘The police?’ Abby swung back to frown at Tall Dark-Eyed Guy. ‘Since when has it been a crime to buy sparkling wine instead of champagne?’
He gave her the sort of look an adult does to a very naive child. ‘Hasn’t anyone told you not to accept unsealed drinks from strangers? He could’ve slipped anything in that glass while you weren’t watching and you’d be none the wiser until you woke up next morning with a bad headache and no memory of what had been done to you the night before.’
Abby’s stomach dropped like an elevator with snapped cables.
‘I didn’t put anything in her drink!’ Mousey Man said.
‘Prove it,’ Tall Dark-Eyed Guy said. ‘Drink it yourself.’
Mousey Man glared at him before finally tipping back the glass and draining it. He put the glass back on the bar with a thwack. ‘Who are you? Her bodyguard or something?’ He threw Abby a dismissive glance as he brushed past them. ‘I’m outta here. This place is too darned expensive anyway.’
Abby swallowed as she looked up at Tall Dark-Eyed Guy. ‘Did you see him put something in my drink?’
‘No.’
‘No? Then what was all the fuss about?’
His eyes were a rich dark brown, so rich they were almost black, fringed with thick sooty lashes and prominent eyebrows that met in the middle when he frowned. ‘You asked for champagne. If he lies to you about the quality of the drink he buys you, then what else will he lie about?’
Abby chewed at her lower lip. ‘I guess you can see I’m pretty hopeless at this hooking-up thing....’
He slanted one brow in a questioning arc. ‘Hooking up?’
She gave him a self-deprecating grimace. ‘I came out tonight specifically to hook up with someone. You know...to have a one-night stand. Today is my wedding day...well, it would’ve been if my fiancé hadn’t married my best friend instead. Ever since we were sixteen we said we’d get married on the first of May when we were both twenty-five.’ She let out a despondent sigh. ‘Some promise that turned out to be....’
Something flickered behind his eyes. A touch of empathy perhaps? ‘It’s a long time to keep a promise. Circumstances change. People change. Feelings change.’
Abby looked at him. Really looked at him. He had a sensual mouth that looked as if it was comfortable with smiling even though it was set rather grimly now. He was olive skinned and deeply tanned, with at least twelve hours of stubble on his lean, somewhat uncompromising take-no-prisoners jaw. He was dressed casually but stylishly. The fabric of his shirt lovingly framed his broad shoulders, the open collar giving a tantalising glimpse of a muscled chest with a sprinkling of dark hair. He was spectacularly good-looking in an intensely male way. And so tall!
She suddenly realised she was staring at his mouth. ‘Um...can I buy you a drink?’ Did I just say that?
His mouth tilted upwards at the corners. ‘Do you know no one has ever asked me that before?’
‘No?’
‘No.’ His gaze slipped to her mouth. ‘Which kind of makes me wonder if I should say yes, just for the novelty of it.’
Abby’s breath moved against her throat like butterfly’s wings as that dark gaze reengaged with hers. ‘I have to tell you I can’t afford champagne. It’s not quite in my budget range. I’ve never even tasted it. Not the real stuff, I mean.’
His eyes glinted with something that looked suspiciously like amusement. ‘Are you usually this honest with people you’ve only just met?’
Abby bit her lip again. ‘I know... It’s totally pathetic. It’s because deep down I’m really rather shy. I overcompensate when I’m feeling nervous and out of my depth. I talk too much. It just comes tumbling out, and once I start I can’t stop because I hate those really awkward silences when no one says anything and you don’t know if people like you or—’ she gave a little gulp as his index finger came towards her lips like someone reaching for the mute button ‘—nofftt.’
His slow smile was dangerously attractive. ‘I like you, Miss Naive, so you can stop fretting and relax.’
‘It’s Wright.’ She offered him her hand with a bashful smile. ‘Abigail—Abby for short—Wright.’
His fingers closed like a warm firm cage around hers. ‘I’m very pleased to meet you, Miss Wright.’
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