Winning Her Forever. Harmony Evans

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СКАЧАТЬ stepped closer to the man so the woman could pass. She was so embarrassed she almost joined the cluster of ice cubes melting on the floor.

      “Do you come with a warning?”

      “No. Do you?” she challenged.

      He raised a brow, but it was hard to tell if he was irked or intrigued.

      “Yeah, it’s called never argue with a pretty lady.”

      Her mouth dropped open and another buzz of unexpected heat rose in her cheeks. The grin on his face seemed sincere, and that was the problem.

      She didn’t feel pretty at that moment, just cold and lost, and she had no time for flirtation.

      He seemed not to notice her response, and instead directed her with his hand, around the puddle and deeper into the store.

      He touched her elbow. “Let’s move out of everyone’s way, shall we?”

      Even through her rain jacket, a shock wave of pleasure went zinging through her veins like a ball in a pinball machine. Though she’d never seen this man before, his gentle guidance felt protective. But just as quickly, he released her. She watched as he slid a navy blue backpack off his shoulders and set it down on the counter. His large hands looked as if they could level three men with one punch, or caress her body with ease.

      The loss of his brief touch left her feeling unsettled. He pulled out the chair next to his, and the sound of metal scraping against the tile floor brought her out of her daze.

      Sonya let out a breath and joined him, but kept her messenger bag on.

      Rain pelted the window in a torrential, thunderous downpour. The noise level in the shop elevated as people hurried inside to escape the weather.

      “Looks like we’re stuck here together for a while.”

      She worried her lip, knowing that further delays would not help the fact that she didn’t know the location of her class.

      “Could my night get any worse?”

      His laugh was deep and genuine. “That’s the first time I’ve ever heard that comment from a woman.”

      Sonya frowned at his audacious statement, which smacked of the type of egoism she’d grown up with in her own family and had eventually escaped.

      She took a step closer to him, to the outer fringes of his personal space. His rough-and-ready aura felt familiar, almost cozy. Every fiber of her being wanted to step back again, but she held her ground.

      “I’m sorry I made you spill your coffee, but I’ve had a really rough day, and I don’t need the sarcasm.”

      She ignored his sardonic grin, dug into her messenger bag and dropped a crumpled five-dollar bill on the counter.

      “I hope this covers your loss.”

      He looked over at it, then back at her and his smile faded.

      “Put your money away. I don’t need it.”

      His sharp tone was like a switch, instantly flooding her face with embarrassment. She had the sense he was offended she’d even made the gesture, and now she wished she hadn’t.

      She steadied her voice. “Are you sure?”

      “Yeah.”

      She cupped her palm over the bill and stuffed it back into her bag.

      His eyes, a deep chocolate-brown flecked with green, sought hers. Though he was a stranger, she couldn’t help but be drawn into the sphere of his intense gaze.

      “I could wash your shirt for you,” she offered, only half kidding.

      “Then I’d have to take it off,” he said grimly.

      That’s the whole point, she thought.

      Her lips began to tilt out a smile, but she forced them back into a straight line. He raised his brow, as if he’d read her mind, and a searing flame of attraction lit up her insides.

      “Actually, I’m more worried about you. Are you sure you’re all right? You do look a little frazzled.”

      She reached up and patted her shoulder-length curls. “You mean, frizzled, right?”

      His laughter made her glow in all the places it shouldn’t. It felt honest and real and warm, not patronizing or unappreciative. She had a feeling that he was the kind of guy who wouldn’t care if she showed up at his door sans makeup or clothes.

      “As a matter of fact, I’m lost,” she admitted.

      “Oh? Are you a new student here?”

      “Trying to be. I went to the assigned classroom on my registration form, but no one was there and no sign was posted. There has to be some mistake.”

      “Maybe it was canceled?”

      She frowned. “I hope not. Anyway, can you point me in the direction of the registrar’s office?”

      The rain had slowed, so they ventured outside. He put his umbrella up and motioned her to join him.

      He was broad-shouldered, and she barely fit under the umbrella as she sidled up next to him. He smelled faintly of sawdust and spice, making her think of crisp autumn leaves and a crackling, roaring fire. The barest hint of a dark shadow, apparent on his strong angled jaw, suited him.

      He switched the handle of the umbrella to his other hand and pointed the way. His knuckles appeared slightly rough and her eyes traced the sinew of his muscled forearm up to where the fabric of his T-shirt stretched to accommodate his massive bicep. He emanated the kind of outward strength that a man couldn’t get from hours at the gym or behind a desk, but only from years of hard work.

      As he gave her directions, his voice rumbled through her ears on a wave of authority and could probably make the most mundane topics sound exciting. If only she could listen to him, over and over again.

      If only his arm was draped around her shoulders, tugging her closer and closer.

       If only...

      She sucked in a breath and woke up from her momentary daydream with a pleasurable tug in her loins and the knowledge that he was the cause.

      “Thanks for the info.” She ducked out from under his umbrella and opened up her own. “I better get going, so I’m not late.”

      His gaze lingered, agitating the butterflies already swirling in her stomach.

      “See you again soon?”

      Sonya shrugged, mumbled another thanks and left in a hurry, before she forgot the directions to the office.

      See him again?

      Not a chance.

      She didn’t really have a type, but if she did, a T-shirt, tattoos and old work boots kind of guy wasn’t СКАЧАТЬ