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Her shoulders rolled forward, and she blew out a hard breath. Time to head home. In a quick few minutes, she’d be in the parking lot, ready to drive away. Meanwhile, her long hem had caught on another gnarled branch, and her escape wouldn’t happen until she wrangled herself free.
She swore under her breath and yanked hard. A ripping sound filled the air. Great. Just great. The snapping fabric propelled her forward, a motion that should have given her a quick introduction to the ground, except her face hit a different kind of unforgiving surface altogether.
Her forehead throbbed and she stumbled back, squinting up against the dull moonlight. A broad and stubbled jaw flashed in her vision. She craned her neck farther, attempting to inspect this man with an exceptionally long torso.
He loomed above her like a giant oak tree. Well, maybe not that tall, but his head did surpass hers by many inches. Maybe six foot six to her five nine, so two giants standing in the woods—kinda hilarious, really. Still, her mouth fell open in silent wonder. Not just at his height. No, but his rich, wavy, jet-black hair shrouding his brow in stark contrast to his startling, cobalt blue eyes.
His flat expression should have concerned her. She couldn’t explain her general calm, but somehow, he gave no real sense of danger. The inconvenient flutter low in her belly though… that flutter that prompted her to splutter out something, anything, to break the silence…
“Forgot your costume?”
Dean Holloway expected the usual mumbled apology people gave when they bumped into him, which happened a lot despite his height. But this woman. This woman with her classic beauty and startled gape, she simply let loose with a smart-ass question.
A slow grin tugged at his lips. What was wrong with her? She stood here alone with him. A man. Not just any man. One much larger than the average. One she’d never met. And in a location that kept her invisible to those at the party.
He pushed his smile down, not wanting to allow this strange woman a glimpse into his inner world. Her amber-green eyes glinted up at him, her pretty pout still parted; maybe he had scared her. Maybe she wasn’t so irrational after all…
He knew what he looked like—a solid brick house dressed completely in black. His “look” downright paid his bills. The fact he lurked back here, in a dark forest… yeah, that probably didn’t make him look any less intimidating to Miss American Peach, whose gaze darted behind him now, like she’d already wised up and sought her escape route.
Clever woman.
He put special effort into keeping a quiet presence. He couldn’t blame her for not initially noticing him. He softened his scowl, the scowl he wore as a permanent mask. “Silly me.”
Instilling fear meant people bothered him less, but for once, he didn’t want to scare someone.
Strange.
His heart did a quick double-beat.
Strange again.
Still, he dismissed the reaction. Dismissed his desire to inspect her every detail, even though he’d already done a lot of that in the seconds before she quite literally bumped into him. He needed to get on with tonight’s job, which meant he had to convince her not to run.
The last thing I need is this woman freaking out and telling everyone I’m here.
“I take it you’re from out of town?” Her voice stayed relaxed, confident even, but her retreating steps belied her tone.
He pretended not to notice and gave an easy shrug, forcing his gaze not to pore over her ground-skimming fairy dress, the clingy turquoise velvet highlighting a trim figure underneath. Not exactly the most practical outfit for stomping through the woods.
His pulse hammered a little faster; his mind caught on how her impractical clothes had caused their collision and the brief knowledge of what her body felt like against his.
I know it’s been too long, but shit, get your mind out of the gutter. I’m a man, not an animal.
“Someone at the grocery store mentioned a party.” He focused on her eyes to forget about her body, the amber-green hue in no way a downgrade from anything lower. He could handle his attraction. Handle it like he handled everything else. With efficiency and control… “I thought I’d take a look while I’m in town.”
Her posture eased, confirming he’d been right to mention a local spot like the grocery store. Familiarity did wonders for soothing most people’s concerns.
See? Handling it.
“And let me guess.” She lifted her chin, her thick row of lashes fluttering in her pause. “You missed the part where this was a costume party?”
He grinned, another effective way to cover a lie. Meanwhile, her cheeks flashed red, those dainty lashes beating heavier, like the animated wings of a dragonfly. Though her gaze veered to the side, he wanted to maintain a semblance of normalcy and refused to look anywhere but at her.
He pointed to a tiny red scratch across her thin collar bone. “You cut yourself. Let me help.”
The lady blinked, and before she could protest, he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at the wound.
“Who the hell carries a handkerchief?”
