threw it next to
me. I noticed it was John Varvatos, whoever he was. I was clueless when it came
to men’s fashion – not that men’s fashion was important when there was an
Adonis in front of me. I may have jumped his perfectly sculpted upper body if
I’d had full function of my legs and wasn’t frozen on the sofa in a weird mix
of mortification and lust. He had those stomach lines down past his hips. Those defined V-lines that were turning me
to jelly because I wanted to follow them southwards. My breathing felt ragged
in my chest at the thought.
‘Better?’ He slowly turned around so I could check out his
broad shoulders and deeply tanned torso as well. My breath caught as I noticed
the ink on his right shoulder blade.
‘It’s a quote from The
Iliad ,’ he explained catching my look. Cue deeper blush, especially
considering his hand resting on his hip. I don’t think I could have coped in my
weakened state if he had moved his hand central and unzipped his trousers… It
was quite possible I would have swooned and fainted like an Edwardian heroine.
My deep blush prompted him to sit down carefully, so as not
to knock my foot, and then, without asking, he planted a delicious, deep kiss
on my lips that swirled me giddy. Not that I would have said no to his kiss; I
had pretty much been rendered speechless by what was been tantalisingly
displayed.
Hel-lo perfection. Could this be love?
Chapter Nine
Of course I’d been in love before but this had to be
something else as I had stopped believing in love. This could be lust with
Piers, but certainly nothing more.
He groaned as he gently pulled away from the kiss. ‘That was
worth you breaking my fashion heart.’
I smiled. His appalling attire had perks then – my eyes
might have been offended, but my lips were tingling.
‘You don’t know how much I want you,’ he then said, cupping
my chin in his big hands and staring at me longingly.
‘Piers,’ I said gently, removing his hands from my face, ‘I
don’t want to rush this.’
Except maybe to rush out of the door before he could corrupt
my already-broken heart any further with his sweet ways and devastating looks.
If my ankle had been intact I probably would have scampered; then again, if I
hadn’t broken my ankle then I’d never have met Piers and that was an idea I
didn’t like.
‘I understand completely,’ he quickly agreed. ‘And I know
this is all a bit strange but I really feel something with you, Arielle. I feel
dastardly for what I did to you.’
He looked at me so intensely that it threw me and my heart
seemed to race its approval. Strange, because my heart had broken years
previously and had never been fixed, it could never be fixed, but I still couldn’t help melting a little at his words
– “dastardly” – he felt dastardly !
He was definitely saying all the right things – things I
should have been thrilled to hear – but I was sceptical. I had believed before
in love and it had cost me. I had shut down, become cynical, yet I believed him.
Bones mend; I knew I couldn’t let him have the chance to break my heart.
‘It was a silly accident. Probably my fault more than
yours.’
True. I wasn’t looking where I was going, proved by not
noticing a gorgeous guy like Piers walking towards me even in my weakened
Penelope-induced state.
‘No, no. I crashed into you. I was too distracted tapping
away at my BlackBerry. All my fault.’
‘Hey!’ I countered, trying to ignore what his forceful tone
was doing to my body. Who didn’t like a man to be a man and take charge? ‘I was
too distracted feeling sorry for myself to look where I was going. I’m to blame, OK?’
I suspected that to be true for a lot of things in my life.
‘Equal blame?’ He threw up his hands in mock surrender. ‘But
only because I can tell you’re the sort of girl who would argue all day with
me. One with spirit, but one who can also point out my horrific fashion
mistakes.’ He winked at
me. I noticed it was John Varvatos, whoever he was. I was clueless when it came
to men’s fashion – not that men’s fashion was important when there was an
Adonis in front of me. I may have jumped his perfectly sculpted upper body if
I’d had full function of my legs and wasn’t frozen on the sofa in a weird mix
of mortification and lust. He had those stomach lines down past his hips. Those defined V-lines that were turning me
to jelly because I wanted to follow them southwards. My breathing felt ragged
in my chest at the thought.
‘Better?’ He slowly turned around so I could check out his
broad shoulders and deeply tanned torso as well. My breath caught as I noticed
the ink on his right shoulder blade.
‘It’s a quote from The
Iliad ,’ he explained catching my look. Cue deeper blush, especially
considering his hand resting on his hip. I don’t think I could have coped in my
weakened state if he had moved his hand central and unzipped his trousers… It
was quite possible I would have swooned and fainted like an Edwardian heroine.
My deep blush prompted him to sit down carefully, so as not
to knock my foot, and then, without asking, he planted a delicious, deep kiss
on my lips that swirled me giddy. Not that I would have said no to his kiss; I
had pretty much been rendered speechless by what was been tantalisingly
displayed.
Hel-lo perfection. Could this be love?
Chapter Nine
Of course I’d been in love before but this had to be
something else as I had stopped believing in love. This could be lust with
Piers, but certainly nothing more.
He groaned as he gently pulled away from the kiss. ‘That was
worth you breaking my fashion heart.’
I smiled. His appalling attire had perks then – my eyes
might have been offended, but my lips were tingling.
‘You don’t know how much I want you,’ he then said, cupping
my chin in his big hands and staring at me longingly.
‘Piers,’ I said gently, removing his hands from my face, ‘I
don’t want to rush this.’
Except maybe to rush out of the door before he could corrupt
my already-broken heart any further with his sweet ways and devastating looks.
If my ankle had been intact I probably would have scampered; then again, if I
hadn’t broken my ankle then I’d never have met Piers and that was an idea I
didn’t like.
‘I understand completely,’ he quickly agreed. ‘And I know
this is all a bit strange but I really feel something with you, Arielle. I feel
dastardly for what I did to you.’
He looked at me so intensely that it threw me and my heart
seemed to race its approval. Strange, because my heart had broken years
previously and had never been fixed, it could never be fixed, but I still couldn’t help melting a little at his words
– “dastardly” – he felt dastardly !
He was definitely saying all the right things – things I
should have been thrilled to hear – but I was sceptical. I had believed before
in love and it had cost me. I had shut down, become cynical, yet I believed him.
Bones mend; I knew I couldn’t let him have the chance to break my heart.
‘It was a silly accident. Probably my fault more than
yours.’
True. I wasn’t looking where I was going, proved by not
noticing a gorgeous guy like Piers walking towards me even in my weakened
Penelope-induced state.
‘No, no. I crashed into you. I was too distracted tapping
away at my BlackBerry. All my fault.’
‘Hey!’ I countered, trying to ignore what his forceful tone
was doing to my body. Who didn’t like a man to be a man and take charge? ‘I was
too distracted feeling sorry for myself to look where I was going. I’m to blame, OK?’
I suspected that to be true for a lot of things in my life.
‘Equal blame?’ He threw up his hands in mock surrender. ‘But
only because I can tell you’re the sort of girl who would argue all day with
me. One with spirit, but one who can also point out my horrific fashion
mistakes.’ He winked at
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