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He held his hand out, the movement breaking her stare, and she snapped her eyes back up in an instant.
His blue eyes glittered. All-knowing. Clearly amused.
Her flush intensified as she thrust out her hand to his proffered one, shaking it clumsily. She’d never, never reacted to anyone like this. She’d thought it was something reserved for films, or books. But, lord, how Hayden positively oozed authority. And power.
It was...intoxicating.
You can resist him. You can resist him... Bridget began to chant it furiously to herself, like some kind of new mantra.
As if she would actually need to try.
As if Hayden would even look twice at a woman so quiet that she could make wallflowers look like prima donnas.
But, then, that was what happened when you’d spent the first thirteen years of your life gliding around the most glittering, monied, social circles, only for absolutely everything to tumble down in the most shameful way when your father had got arrested for fraud.
Was it any wonder, then, Bridget thought, not for the first time, that she’d spent the next th
irteen years making herself as inconsequential and invisible as possible, fighting to shake off those associations?
Only now, right at this minute, standing in the spotlight of Hayden’s stare, she didn’t feel inconsequential or invisible, or gawky and out of step. Instead, she felt raw. Wobbly. Naked.
And a raft of other things she couldn’t—or didn’t want to—identify.
Get a grip.
‘Hayden.’ Thrusting her hand out to take his proffered one, she wasn’t prepared for the jolt of electricity that zapped right through her, from the tips of her fingers right to her core. Right...there. Bridget was frankly astounded that she managed to make her voice sound remotely normal. ‘Likewise.’
‘Call me Hayd. Everyone does.’
Hayd. Even his name sang a new song inside Bridget’s head. It should have been laughable but instead, shamefully, she found that she was entranced.
‘I don’t think you pounce on every friend I introduce to you,’ Mattie’s firm, all-too-shrewd voice cut in. ‘Just those who have something about them.’
‘I take it she’s always this complimentary about me?’ Hayden... Hayd turned to Bridget with raised eyebrows, but the twitch of his mouth was almost mesmerising.
It was all she could do not to let her legs crumple. They were certainly shaky enough.
‘Incredible brother, amazing commanding officer, but unashamed playboy.’ She ticked off each trait on one hand, as if entirely amused and not the least bit affected.
‘Playboy?’ He frowned.
‘Well, not those words exactly,’ Bridget confessed.
Though she’d added the playboy bit to keep her own head screwed on, if nothing else. How he couldn’t hear the deafening hammering of her heart was mystifying, though perhaps he was altogether too accustomed to it.
‘I think it was more women always throwing themselves at his feet. But I get the impression you’re not exactly a monk.’
‘He definitely isn’t a monk.’ Mattie clicked her tongue. ‘Are you okay for a minute, Bea? I ought to say hi to everyone.’
How was it possible to simultaneously want to grab her friend’s arm and make her stay, and yet to push her on her way and tell her not to rush back?
‘Sure.’ She managed to smile instead, though it felt like a rictus.
‘I’ll take care of her.’ Hayden’s voice sent goosebumps chasing up her skin.
‘Yeah, well, not too much care.’ Mattie skewered him with a glower before bestowing a smile on Bridget. ‘He’s not what I meant by doing something crazy.’
‘Of course not,’ Bridget agreed, wondering why her voice sounded so robotic. And then Mattie was gone, and she was left alone with her friend’s brother. And her body launched itself into another insane fever.
