Vanessa starts to say something. I lose the track of their conversation as the fine hair at my nape bristles—not unpleasantly—and my gaze lands on the sole bartender on the other side of the counter.
Everything fades away except him.
I’ve met handsome men, hot men, aristocratic men, charming men on both sides of the Atlantic. My family alone has four brothers and four cousins who make women stupid with their looks. Having grown up around such male beauty, I’ve always considered myself immune—able to appreciate it without turning into some kind of infatuated drooler.
But the bartender…
Everything about him is absurd.
The absurd perfection of his bone structure. The absurd blue of his eyes. The absurd firmness of his lips. The absurd muscularity of his big, strong body.
When our gazes collide, I feel like every cell in my body is waking up after a lifetime of slumber. My heart beats a little bit faster, a little bit harder. Blood flows a little quicker, a little hotter.
Is this sexual attraction?
I shake my head inwardly. I’ve felt attraction to guys before. But nothing like this. This man shines like a brilliant gemstone, like the heavens opened up and a halo appeared around him.
Then I remember what Grandpa used to say.
“When I first met your grandmother, I knew she was the one.”
“How?” I asked. An exceptional artist, Grandpa has a propensity for exaggeration and dramatic flair.
“Because she made me forget where I was. Every time I laid eyes on her, nothing else mattered. Colors were brighter, food tasted better, and the air felt cleaner. All because I met her.”
I laughed. “That’s just infatuation, Grandpa.”
He shook his head. “No, no, my little angel. It’s called love. My soul recognized hers.”
I tried not to laugh at such a ridiculous story. On the other hand, Grandpa’s first marriage lasted until the death of his wife in a sailing accident. And by all accounts, they adored each other.
Suddenly Vanessa taps my elbow. “Earth to Elizabeth. Come on.” She tilts her shiny red head toward the bar. “We’re sitting at the counter.”
Apparently the decision has been made. “Okay.” I park my butt across from the bartender, Grandpa’s words about soul mates circling in my head.
Because if this bartender’s mine, he’s popped up at the most inconvenient time and the most inconvenient location.
Chapter Two
Dominic
I get a little jolt of satisfaction when the trio settles at the counter rather than one of the booths. It gives me a chance to get to know the blonde. I give them what I hope is a friendly and easy smile, even though my mouth is so dry that I need a drink myself.
“Evening. How are you ladies doing?”
The brunette giggles. “Great. Thanks.”
The redhead returns a friendly smile, her eyes going from fully sharp to eighty percent sharp.
The blonde doesn’t smile. Chin in hand, she just studies me, her head tilted slightly.
Pulling my shoulders back, I stand straighter. I know I’m good-looking enough, and I work out four times a week. Women like what they see when they look at me, and quite a few give me their numbers to show it. But right at the moment, I don’t care what women think. I only care about what she thinks.
After giving me a once-over, her gaze is slightly unfocused and faraway when it returns to mine. Then suddenly it clears, her eyebrows pulling together. Disappointment and annoyance war within me. That’s not the face of an appreciative female.
The rejection cuts deep, surprisingly so—she’s virtually a stranger.
If the falling for someone in a fifth of a second business is a one-way deal, it sucks. I can’t remember what my professor said about reciprocation—if she said anything.