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If someone personified a combination of Wall Street and Fifth Avenue, it would be this guy. He’s wearing an unbuttoned designer pea coat with a fitted, gray suit underneath—the kind of suit tailored to hug his body like it was made on him, sewed right around him.
And it’s covered in muddy paw prints. Fuck! There’s even a rip on the knee, probably because I forgot to cut the dog’s nails when I was distracted talking on the phone with Finley’s guidance councilor this morning.
“You need to get rid of these dogs.”
“I’m so sorry. They’re normally really well-behaved.”
I’ve never had all of them at once before, though. With a shaking hand, I try to brush the mud off his coat and just end up rubbing it into the material. My cheeks heat as he grabs my wrist and forcefully pulls my hand away from him.
Like me, he’s not wearing any gloves, but unlike me, his skin is toasty warm. When he lets go, I almost take back his hand and bring it to my freezing cheeks.
When I look up at his face, he’s giving me a look that can only be described as shock. It vanishes so quickly I can’t be sure I saw it at all, and in its place his eyes narrow, appraising me.
“Is there somewhere you can leave the dogs?”
“What?” I look at his ruined clothes and wince. Even with my non-existent knowledge of fashion, it’s clear this suit cost a fortune. My luck, it’s probably a year’s salary. I’d never be able to pay him for the damage.
He repeats his question more slowly, adding, “I’d like you to accompany me to a party tonight. Someone else will need to watch them.”
“I’m sorry, what?” I take a step back, only to get tangled in the leashes again. This conversation is making no sense. My legs give out, and I tip to the side, but his hand shoots out faster, catching me and pulling me forward so quickly my chest crashes into his. The air rushes out of my lungs, leaving me breathless.
It’s not just his hand that’s warm. It’s all of him. He’s like a winter fire I want to curl up next to. It takes far too much effort to step away. “I can’t go to a party.”
“Why not?” His light brown eyes flash and flicker, as if there’s a flame in the center of them. The light must be playing tricks on my eyes.
“I appreciate that I’m not flat on the sidewalk right now, but I can’t just drop my job and go off to a party with a stranger.” Not to mention that I have a to-do list a mile long, and I’m not the type to abandon commitments. Although… no, it doesn’t matter how attractive he is.
He crosses his arms over his chest. “What do I need to do to make it so you can go?”
“Um… Why?” This is ridiculous. Why would he be asking me to a party when I toppled into him and ruined his suit?
His gaze skims my body again briefly. It’s not leering, just assessing, but intense. “I need a date.”
He says it matter-of-factly, but it makes no sense. There’s no reason a man like this would want to take me to a party, especially right now. It’s not like I’ve put my best foot forward in this exchange. “You could get any woman in New York.”
He leans a little closer, and his voice drops to a low rumble. “I don’t want any woman in New York.”
My body immediately lights on fire, heat skimming over my skin. It’s been so long since anyone has looked at me the way this man is right now. So long since I’ve been to a party. Dates aren’t a priority when you’re working multiple jobs and trying to raise your teenage sister.
He waits silently for me to respond, but I can see on his face that he already knows my answer. There’s a confident, self-assuredness there that I rarely see in the men I interact with. I contemplate declining, just to spite that look. But I don’t want to say no. The thought of going to a party with a handsome man is exciting. It’s an opportunity that doesn’t come around every day—at least, not for me.
For all of my adult life, I’ve been the strong one, the responsible one, the one who took care of everything so that my little sister could have fun, go out, experience life, live. For once, I want to be the one having a little fun.
I want to be the impulsive one, wildly irresponsible. I want to go out with a man and forget about grocery shopping and bills and last-minute potato projects.
Before I can respond, he confidently takes all six dog leashes from me and heads down the street, leaving me no choice but to follow. All the while wondering who this man is with the silver hair, the golden eyes, the dangerous scar, and that deep voice that makes me hot despite the biting spring chill.
Chapter 2
“Where are you going?” I call after him.
His strides are so long I have to run to catch up. Of course, the dogs are perfectly behaved for him. I’ve never seen them so calm and quiet before.
“If you have no one to take the dogs,” he says, “my valet will watch them.”
Valet? He has a valet. What kind of party is he inviting me to? I have so many questions. But first, there’s no way the dog’s various owners are going to be okay with a complete stranger watching them. These people treat their dogs like their kids. I’ll admit, I feel the same way about a few of them.
Charlie is my favorite. He’s an Australian sheepdog, and he’s a sweetheart. He comes over and positions himself between me and the stranger. When I lean down and pet him, he looks up and whimpers as if he’s pleading with me not to leave him with someone he’s never met before.
