At least, not until she’d set eyes on Roland Summers. There was just something about him that triggered everything womanly in her. Granted he was older than she--at least ten-years older, she guessed--but he definitely didn’t look it. That meant he took care of himself health-wise, and probably went to the gym regularly.
Although she really didn’t know him personally, there were a few things about him that she did know. For one thing, he shared a close friendship with Joy’s husband Stonewall, as well as Stonewall’s two best friends, Striker Jennings and Quasar Patterson. She also knew of his close friendship with Attorney Carson Boyette Granger, who’d been his attorney, as well as a good friend of Roland’s deceased wife. But usually, he came across as a loner, one who was very selective as to who he let get close.
Lennox didn’t have to wonder about the reason for that. She’d heard the story, several times over, from a number of people, but mainly from police officers who’d once worked with him. Roland was a hero in their eyes because he had helped to clean house—rooting out the crime and corruption--in the Charlottesville Police department.
Back then, he’d discovered some of his fellow police officers were on the take. But before he could blow the whistle, he’d been framed and sent to prison for fifteen years. But his wife Becca, had refused to accept that outcome, and had lobbied to get him a new trial. He had served three years before Carson had managed to uncover the truth, finally giving him back his freedom. But it hadn’t been soon enough to stop the dirty cops from murdering Roland’s wife, his brother and sister-in-law. They’d also put a hit on Carson, but thankfully, that one had failed. In the end, allthe cops involved were brought to justice, but Lennox suspected it didn’t make much difference to Roland
There were times that she could actually feel his pain, even though the murders had happened quite a few years ago. She knew from Joy that although he dated on occasion, he had no intention of ever again becoming involved in a serious relationship.
Lennox thought about her own situation. She had seen moving to Charlottesville as a new beginning, and figured she would eventually begin dating again. She was only thirty-four and it was still her hope to one day marry and have children. DeWalt would have wanted her to be happy.
But once she’d settled in Charlottesville and had begun dating again, she’d been appalled at the games some men played. Granted, she’d been with DeWalt since college, so she wasn’t used to going out with guys who expected a date to end in the bedroom, but still, what happened to getting to know each other?
When it became obvious the rush-to-the-bedroom mentality was more the norm than not, she’d made a decision not to date for a while. She could have fun all by herself, with no expectations. So far that approach was working just fine since no man had interested her.
Until she’d met Roland.
“That’s a beautiful painting, isn’t it?”
Lennox jerked her head around at the sound of the deep, husky voice. She was surprised he’d spoken to her. During the other times they’d attended the same functions, he would simply give her a cursory nod and she would return it with a smile. Not once had they ever actually had a conversation.
“It’s very beautiful,” she said, turning to face him.
She’d braced herself for the impact of what looking into his eyes would do to her. He had the most gorgeous dark brown pair she’d ever seen on a man. They were like deep, dark chocolate and, just as she’d known, the sight of them nearly took her breath away.
They’d first been introduced at Joy and Stonewall’s wedding nearly three years ago. After that, she hadn’t seen him again until Dak and Mellie’s wedding, just a few months ago. And more recently, she had run into Roland at a career fair sponsored by the city for graduating high school seniors. His booth had been across from hers. They’d acknowledged each other’s presence, but when the job fair was over, he had quickly packed and left.
Feeling the need to pull herself together, she broke eye contact with him and turned her gaze back to the painting. “I understand it’s Dak and Mellie’s home in Vermont.”
“It is.”
She braved herself to glance back at him. “You’ve visited there?”
“Several times.”
Lennox wasn’t surprised—he’d been one of Dak’s groomsmen at the wedding and she’d heard they were close. For a quick moment, she allowed herself to study his features--gorgeous dark eyes fringed by thick and long lashes, a chiseled jaw, an angular nose and a pair of sinful and succulent-looking lips.
“I bet it’s even more beautiful than the picture,” she said, trying to ignore the rush of warmth that flowed through her stomach and settled in a lower part of her anatomy.
“It is. But I’ll give the artist credit for doing a great job in capturing its likeness on canvas.”
She nodded, suddenly wondering if he realized how close they were standing, staring at each other, without saying a word. She should do something—like turn her focus back to the painting again--but for some reason, she couldn’t force herself to do it.
The pop of a bottle of champagne being opened made them jump and they immediately broke eye contact and glanced around. When they looked back at each other again, he said, “I was about to go out on the patio and get a bit of fresh air. It was good seeing you again, Dr. Roswell.”
“Call me Lennox, please. And it was good seeing you again, Roland.” There. She had effectively dismissed the formality he’d always placed between them.
“Okay, Lennox.”
But hearing him say her name did something to her. For a long minute, their gazes locked and again--as if neither was ready to let go. Finally, he walked off toward the patio, with her gaze following every step he took.
Never before had she felt this kind of desire for a man—a need that was so intense it practically melted her insides.
They’d stood there, in a crowded room, and stared at each other as if they’d been the only two people in the world. Had anyone noticed? And did it matter if they had?
She shook her head, trying to clear it. She’d heard Roland could be dangerous. And now she knew it first-hand.
• • •