Free Awakening (A Dangerous Man, #1) by Serena Grey Page B

Ashcroft
Hills, but there is a feeling of apprehension building in my stomach. It’s as
if my sixth sense can feel a danger in that car, but I ignore it. There is more
likely a sale in it, I decide.
    The back door opens, and as I watch, a man steps out.
    Involuntarily, I step back, suddenly hoping that the glass
will hide me from him. My heart starts to pound, and I can hear the blood
rushing in my ears. I am filled with awareness, excited and afraid at the same
time, and I don’t know why.
    Maybe it’s because I’ve never seen anyone who looks like him
before.
    His face is breathtakingly handsome, almost as if it was
lifted directly from one of the classical sculptures or paintings I’ve seen in
art textbooks, and then perfected. His hair is thick and very black, slightly
too long and elegantly tousled, framing his exquisite sculpted face. His lips
are firm and perfectly shaped. His nose is straight. His eyes, framed by a pair
of winged black eyebrows, are the most intense blue I’ve ever seen.
    I’m only looking at him, but I feel as if all the air has
been sucked from my lungs. I pray he doesn’t come into the shop, and I hope
fervently that he does.
    I am staring, mouth open, but I can’t stop myself. He is
just so... compelling.
    His eyes narrow slightly, and I flush. I don’t know why I’m embarrassed.
He’s been staring at me too. I look away from his eyes and take in his tall,
broad shouldered body in a superbly tailored gray suit. My mouth suddenly feels
dry. I swallow.
    As I watch, he starts to move towards the door. He is graceful
and lithe, yet strong, like a jungle cat, I think.
    As soon as the obstruction of the door is out of the way,
his eyes are on me again. He doesn’t stop until he is right in front of me. I
am five six, which isn’t short by any standards, but I have to look up at him,
and when I do, I have a desperate need to lean on something.
    He doesn’t say anything. At first I don’t notice because I’m
too busy staring at his face. I’ve lost the ability to breathe, which is
probably why my mouth is hanging open, trying to get enough air to at least
keep me alive.
    “Good afternoon.” His voice is cultured and deep. There must
be something stuck in my throat, because I can’t seem to get any words out. Say
something Sophie! I tell myself desperately, or he’ll think you’re an
idiot .
    “Good afternoon.” I finally manage, my voice, an unfamiliar
croak. His smile deepens, I’m so ridiculous I’m amusing to him, I decide
miserably.
    “Would you like to buy something?” I ask timidly, knowing
that my face is probably a bright red.
    He looks amused. I watch, fascinated as a black eyebrow
moves up a little higher than the other, “Of course,” he replies, a teasing
note in his voice. “I’d like ah...” He looks around and seems to take in the shop
for the first time, “a gift for my mother.”
    I nod. I have to squeeze by him so I can lead him through
the shop. As I pass him, barely an inch from where he stands, I am careful not
to look at him. He smells of fresh linen, and soap, with a delicious hint of
cologne. I have an overwhelming urge to snuggle close and fill my nose with the
scent of him.
    I recover myself just in time. “What do you have in mind?” I
say instead. “We have um... a selection of items you can consider.” As I move
ahead of him through the few shelves and tables where the gifts are displayed,
I can feel his eyes on my back, which makes the skin from my neck to the back
of my legs tingle with warmth. I turn towards him, and jump when I find that he
is right behind me.
    I step back quickly, not because I mind being so close to
him, but because my heart is beating so loudly I’m sure he must hear it. I swallow
and continue. “We have um... These glass sculptures are all made locally,” I
start, aware that my voice sounds breathless. I wonder if he can tell that his
presence is affecting me so much. I am painfully aware that his eyes have