Free The Magic Touch by Dara England

Chapter One
     
     
    The door opened and a bleary-eyed, unshaven
face beneath a shock of dark hair appeared. Squinting into the
brighter light of the hall, the young man looked dazed as he took
in the sight of her standing before him, but Ambrielle wasn’t fazed
by that. It was one o’clock in the morning and in her business you
didn’t exactly call ahead.
    At the guy’s feet, a little red dachshund
poked its inquisitive nose out into the hall and viewed her with
the same sleepy eyes as its owner.
    “Can I, uh, can I help you?” the guy
asked.
    She had always liked his voice. It was blunt
and honest, just like the man to whom it belonged. Even groggy,
half asleep, and reeking with the sour odor of old beer, or maybe because of all these things, he was very readable. She could
have traced the worries written across his face like lines on a
page, even if she hadn’t watched over him all of his twenty-eight
years.
    His eyes were ambient gold, not just a simple
shade of brown but the unique hue of autumn maple leaves under the
glow of an early morning sun. They could hide nothing, those eyes.
The contours of his face were lean, but attractively so, his high
cheekbones contrasting with a wide jaw and a long, tapering nose
with a slight hump in the middle where he had busted it falling off
a slide as a kid. He bore a matching scar from the same accident
across his left eyebrow. Both dark brows were drawn together now in
a puzzled expression.
    He was still waiting for her to answer.
Ambrielle smiled. “No, Danny, I don’t need any help. As a matter of
fact, I’m here to help you.”
    He didn’t open the door any further but
suddenly looked alert. “I don’t understand. Have we met?”
    She tilted her head. “Let’s just say I’ve
watched you, but you haven’t seen me.”
    “Okaaay…” He looked uneasy and she felt his
tawny gaze sweeping her up and down, from the tips of her pink
painted toenails to the top of her dark head of curls. She was well
aware her figure showed nicely under her fitted blouse and short,
white skirt. She had wanted to make a good impression for this
first meeting and had dressed with more care than usual.
    Oddly, he didn’t seem impressed. “Uh, thanks
anyway,” he said, backing away, “But I don’t need help with
anything. I’m doing just fine.”
    As simply as that, he would have shut the
door in her face, had Ambrielle not been quick thinking enough to
stick one high-heeled shoe in the door. “Now you know that’s just
not true, Danny. How can you be fine when you’ve just broken up
with Charlotte? Again.”
    The look he turned on her was a mixture of
surprise and annoyance. “Listen, I don’t know how you know my name
or about me breaking up with my girlfriend, but it’s none of your
business. I don’t even know who you are.”
    She wasn’t to be deterred that easily. “My
name’s Ambrielle,” she introduced herself.
    When he simply stared at the carefully
manicured hand she offered, she shrugged. She hadn’t expected this
to be easy.
    Luckily, she still had her high heel wedged
in the door and she used that leverage now to squeeze her petite
frame through the doorway, careful not to step on the curious
little dachshund sniffing around her feet.
    “Hey, what are you doing?” Despite his
protests, he had no alternative but to give ground. It was either
that or stand toe-to-toe with her, allowing her to thrust her face
within inches of his. It was clear he wasn’t eager to be that close
to her. But that didn’t mean he was giving up.
    “Listen,” he said as she shouldered her way
into the apartment, “I don’t know what you’re trying to do but you
can’t just force your way in here. I’ll call the landlord, don’t
think I won’t. If you’re a tenant here, I can get you evicted.”
    Ambrielle ignored his threats, surveying her
surroundings under the dim lighting of several glowing lamps
scattered throughout the space. Her nose wrinkled with