Jannie: Yup. Flight was smooth, and I’m about to dig into the best lobster roll in Vegas. Already spotted a Croc Birkin.
Sarah: Pic?
Jannie quickly found and sent the photo of the gorgeous Asian woman carrying the exquisite red crocodile handbag, the hardware encrusted in tiny diamonds.
Sarah: Whoa. Two hundred grand, right there. I’d be terrified to carry that.
Jannie: I wouldn’t do exotic skins on principle, but it was a fantastic sighting.
Sarah: The croc is already dead, so (shrug emoji)
Jannie: Not funny. I’d never carry Dead Albert.
Sarah: Albert is a gator, not a croc.
Jannie laughed. Albert, the University of Florida mascot, broughtback fond memories of her carefree college days. A nostalgic smile curved her lips. It would be nice to time-travel and go back there, if only for a day. She would do so many things differently.
Taking out her laptop, she spent the next half hour catching up on paperwork, answering emails, and calling patients while devouring the most delicious lobster roll ever created. Popping the last bite into her mouth, she made a mental note to compliment Adam on his choice of chefs. He demanded the best from his staff and got it; the restaurant employees were no exception.
“Is this seat taken?”
Jannie wiped her mouth with her napkin.
She looked up.
Oh.
Her lips parted, and she blinked a few times.
Because smiling down at her was a tall, drop-dead gorgeous, dark-haired man whose face seemed vaguely familiar.
She eyed the many empty nearby tables and looked up at him in confusion. “No.”
His smile broadened. “Great.”
Those eyes … irises so dark, they were indistinguishable from the pupils. Eyes that, at the moment, looked down on her with warmth, but something else was there too, drawing a shudder from her as her gaze locked on his.
She licked her lips.
The face of a dark angel and a bod made for sin. Under a neatly trimmed beard, the square shape of his jaw contrasted with a sensual mouth that conjured graphic images of what those lips could do. His perfectly tailored trousers and fitted white short-sleeved shirt showcased a physique she’d seen on fitness magazine and romance novel covers but believed was the result of Photoshop and clever lighting.
But he was very real. Broad, solid, and ridiculously fit, with muscles that gave her visions of him in a gym lifting a crazy amount of weight, grunting, teeth gnashing, sweat dripping from his brow. She had an insane urge to run her hand over those biceps and see if they felt as hard as they looked.
And his forearms …
“So, may I sit here?”
His voice was dark molasses mixed with bourbon and grit. Coming from a gorgeous mouth that instantly had her thinking oh, such dirty thoughts.
She blinked. Maybe the Vegas vibe was rubbing off on her, making her this turned on for no apparent reason.
Yeah, bullshit.The reason stood right before her in the form of the sexiest man she’d ever seen.
Something gleamed in his dark eyes, as if he knew what she was thinking. “If it’s OK with you, I’d like to catch up with an old friend.”
Jannie blinked. “Old friend?”
His eyes crinkled at the corners. “Unless you have a doppelgänger somewhere, you’re Jannie Larssen.”
