The Last Virgin. Dorie Graham

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      “See, you caught one.” Libby nodded in the newcomer’s direction. “Not bad for your first time out.”

      The man chuckled and headed toward them.

      Heat spread up Sabrina’s neck and across her cheeks. She’d never been more mortified.

      He moved with the grace and precision of a panther. Sleek. Sensual. His gray suit draped him as if it were tailor-made, his broad shoulders and tapered hips filling its precise lines.

      “So, are you?” His voice rumbled through her.

      Another shiver struck her, this one in the pit of her stomach. The dancing must have made her dizzy. “Excuse me?”

      “You go on!” Libby swatted his arm. “Sabrina doesn’t give a thing away.” She eyed Sabrina. “Maybe that’s the problem.”

      Sabrina stared at Libby. Words refused to form on her tongue.

      The man in turn stopped short. He drew up straight. “Sabrina?” He stared at her with disbelieving eyes.

      “Yes.” She offered her hand, grateful to have found her voice, though it held a strange, breathless quality. “Sabrina Walker. Was there something I could help you find?”

      “Well, actually…” He sandwiched her hand between his big palms. “I came to find you.”

      “Me?” She blinked. Her heart beat triple time, as the warmth of his hands melted into hers. A little tremor ran from her fingers up her arm. She fought the alarming urge to lean into him. What could a gorgeous man like this want with her?

      “That’s right.” Releasing her, he spread his arms wide. “I’m Noah Banks. I work with your brother.”

      Bewilderment swirled through her. “Noah? Oh, my…this is a surprise. Cliff’s told me so much about you.” Like how she should run the other way if she ever chanced to meet him.

      Noah’s eyes shone. “I can just imagine. Probably only half of it was true.”

      “I don’t know. I have a feeling he wasn’t too far off the mark.” She’d always doubted Cliff’s stories about his college roommate’s sexual prowess. Until now. Cliff had been right to warn her. Noah emanated danger…and excitement.

      She stepped back and nearly knocked over Libby. “Goodness, I’m sorry. Where are my manners?” Sabrina gestured to the woman. “This is Libby Conrad, my most valued customer. Ms. Conrad, Noah Banks, lady-killer.”

      Noah put a hand to his chest. “You wound me!” He took Libby’s offered hand, kissing it with a flourish. “I always leave a woman smiling, and very much alive.”

      “I’ll bet you do.” Libby snatched back her hand. “You’re a handsome rascal, but I’m afraid I’m spoken for. My Henry’ll be here any moment and he’s the jealous type.”

      Sabrina’s heart gave another squeeze.

      Noah darted a look over his shoulder, as if he were afraid of encountering the elderly woman’s lover. “Henry?”

      “Henry Thomas Watson, of Decatur, a real man’s man.” With shaky fingers, Libby extracted a golden locket from between her breasts. She flipped it open and held it toward him.

      Despite herself, Sabrina crowded beside him to catch a glimpse of the infamous Henry. Two tiny portraits, one of a young woman with flaming red hair and a familiar smile, the other a wavy-haired man, handsome, but serious, stared back at her. She sighed. They must have been terribly in love.

      Noah straightened, releasing the locket and brushing against her. “A hell of a lucky man, your Henry.”

      “Damn right.” Libby dropped the locket back into her cleavage.

      Sabrina swallowed and tried to calm the hundreds of butterflies that had stormed her stomach at Noah’s accidental touch. She had to get a grip. He was just a man.

      An available man.

      She drew in a breath and let her gaze drift over his broad shoulders, trim waist, then lower. That fluttery feeling spread. He cleared his throat. Her gaze flew to his. Though he stood ramrod straight, the heat in his eyes pierced her.

      So, this was desire.

      “Listen, I’m going to get out of your way and let you two get acquainted.” Libby patted Sabrina’s arm. “Live a little.” She winked, then wandered off after Toby.

      Noah shifted beside Sabrina. Her brother had to be wrong. No way was she a virgin, not with the way she moved, or the way she looked at him with her hungry eyes. Her body had called to his with her siren’s dance and her throaty voice alone was enough to do a man in.

      “Cliff has kept you such a mystery, he’d gotten my curiosity up. I’ve been trying to figure out how to meet you.” His gaze swept the crowded rows of books. Somehow, he couldn’t look at her and tell his half truth. “I was grilling Tiffany, at the office, about what to get him and Mona for a wedding gift and she mentioned that I should ask you.”

      He glanced up and was again caught in her blue gaze. “So, here I am, come to humbly ask your advice, and to check out the mystery woman, of course.”

      She cocked her head. “Does Cliff know you’re here?”

      “Uh, no. I didn’t announce where I was going.”

      She smiled and her eyes lit with pleasure. “Well, I won’t tell him if you won’t.”

      “My lips are sealed.”

      Her hair shone deep mahogany in the sunlight slanting through the open door. He knotted his fists to keep from reaching out to touch the lock draped over her shoulder. “You don’t look like your brother, except for your hair color.”

      His traitorous hand rose. His fingers threaded through her dark strands. Satin and silk. He leaned forward and caught a whiff of wildflowers. His pulse kicked up a notch.

      “Um…wedding gift.” Her voice floated to him, soft and hesitant.

      He met her wide gaze. Clear and bright, her eyes pulled him in, until he felt he was drowning in them. They held a purity he’d never known.

      With a mental shake, he dropped his hand and straightened. It was true. She was a virgin. Innocence radiated from her. A confirmed bachelor who didn’t believe in fairy tales or happily-ever-after had no right going near her.

      “Yeah.” He cleared his throat, attempted to clear the haze from his mind. “I know they’ve got a registry going, but I was thinking I’d like to get them something different.”

      “Different,” she parroted, as her brows drew together in concentration. “Let’s see.” She tapped her fingers against her chin, then suddenly brightened. “I know. Mona likes that new gallery in Buckhead, the one with the stick figures out front. Contemporary art. The owner knows her. She can help you pick something.” Her mouth twisted in a wry curve. “As long as you please Mona, Cliff’ll be happy.”

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