He sat so immobile, a granite statue, looking deep into her eyes, as if he were reading her soul. His eyes picked up the overhead lights and glistened like shards of cavernous quartz, reflections bouncing off them like endless mirrors. She finished the last of her beef and potato gratin, looking everywhere except at his face. She was determined to forget their last encounter. But he was a sensual feast for her eyes. Handsomeness dripped off him like a waterfall that oozed all over the table and her. Her stomach turned over like she was on a roller-coaster ride. His scent of butter rum didn’t help, nor did the fact that his black silk suit shined like a second skin and made his shoulders appear square and broad and utterly perfect male. And that golden hair, so soft, the ponytail trailing over his collar, those deep-set purple eyes hypnotizing the very air around them. Keep a professional distance from Agent Gorgeous here? Was that even possible? She gulped her Merlot and fished around for a safe topic.
