Sophia watched her, eyes tracking to the man behind the bar.
And unexpectedly her pulse kicked over and heat flashed
through her.
What the hell is this?
But the man seemed to carry an electric charge around
him. He wasn't that tall, not even six feet, she guessed.
But inside the plaid shirt with the rolled up sleeves she
could see the outline of a compact muscular body. Thick dark
hair touched the collar of the shirt and she could see it
sprinkled on his arms where they were visible. His face was
rugged rather than handsome, at least as much as she could
tell from that distance. A good case of five o'clock shadow
gave him an intriguingly dangerous look. Then he raised his
eyes to scan the booth and she felt their impact clear to
her toes.
Sophia wriggled in her seat, trying to still the sudden
ramped up beat of her pulse in her cunt. Why on earth in the
midst of this crisis did her hormones suddenly decide to
take a walk on the wild side?
"He and Frenchy sure don't look anything alike," she told
her sister.
"I know. Hot, isn't he? Every woman in the county's been
trying to get his attention." Bec looked up from studying
the menus. "And this seems to work out for both of them."
She gave her sister a knowing look and her mouth curved in a
tiny smile. "Go on and introduce yourself to him, Soph. You
know Frenchy always had a soft spot for you. You can ask him
to pass along your greetings."
"No." Sophia shook her head. "No need to."
"Chicken. Don't tell me you're afraid of a good looking man."
"Of course not." She buried herself in the menu.
"Come on." Rebecca set her menu down and pushed against
Logan to slide out of the booth. "Let's go say hello. It
will take your mind off the meeting we just had." She made a
face. "And the one tomorrow morning. Besides, I want to ask
about his almost–uncle."
"I don't think—"
"Right. Don't think." She grabbed her sister's hand and
practically dragged her out of the booth. "He doesn't bite.
I promise."
Sophia reluctantly let herself be towed across the room
by her sister. Her instincts were telling her she was
stepping into a danger zone.
Get it together, Black. He's just some bartender in a
town you'll never be in again after this gig.
The man was polishing a small area of the bar with a
cloth when Rebecca rapped on the heavy wood to get his
attention.
"Saw you come in, Bec." His voice had a low, smoky sound
to it. "You surely do bring this place some class."
Rebecca laughed. "Well, now you can double it. This is my
sister. Sophia Black, meet Clint Beaudine."
He dropped the rag, swiped his hand on the leg of his
jeans and held it across the bar. "The pleasure is all mine."
Sophia put her small hand in his large one and nearly
jumped at the electric shock that ran through her arm and
into her body. She looked at Clint and saw the same reaction
reflected in his eyes, an amber–flecked hazel. He
squeezed her hand lightly before releasing it.
"A real pleasure." His words were like a caress skating
over her skin.
Sophia couldn't take her eyes from him. She couldn't
remember a time, ever, that a man had affected her this way.
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