“Shh, it’s okay, don’t cry,” Rachel heard, the soft male whisper tickling the hair at her temple as his warm breaths touched her cheek. “He’s gone, honey, he can’t hurt you anymore.”
She supposed the slow, deep shudders wracking her chest seemed like sobs to the big, solid man she was pressed against.
Very big. Very hard. Very warm.
Absolutely delightful.
Awareness washed over her. Awareness of the breadth of his firm body, just beneath her fingers, which were tightly clenching his shirt. The dress shirt was unbuttoned at the neck, and Rachel’s mouth was an inch away from the tanned skin of his throat. She inhaled his spicy, masculine scent, watching the way a few springy, black hairs on his chest moved beneath her slowly released exhalations.
His heartbeat was strong. Rapid. She could feel it since they were pressed tightly together. Rachel’s breasts suddenly felt heavier, more sensitive, almost tingling as he shifted a tiny bit, so their bodies scraped even more delicately against one another.
Their hips touched, as did their thighs. His trousers brushed against her bare calves, and one of her feet had slid between both of his. If they were sitting, she’d be straddling his thigh. The thought made pure warmth and liquid heat ooze through her body, to settle with insistence between her legs.
Oh, God, what was happening to her? Comfort had changed to something else—something heady and wicked and dangerous. She was mentally cataloguing how seductively perfect it felt to be in his arms, how much she suddenly wanted this man.
This man. Luke Santori. The man she’d decided must have been adopted because of how unlike his easy-going brothers he was.
Boy, had she been mistaken. How on earth could she ever have thought Luke was cold when his whole form gave off such sizzling heat? Not to mention the tender, sweet way he stroked her back, making soothing sounds against her temple. Saying more soft things she couldn’t quite make out, beyond the word “safe.”
Safe? Good Lord, she was nowhere near safe. This was the Nazi bride’s groom and here she was curling into him like a stripper against a pole. She jerked back, bringing her shaky fingers to her mouth, trying to regain control of herself.
“Rachel?”
She gave him a slow nod, silently telling him she was okay, though, in truth, she was anything but.
“You sure you don’t want me to call Mark?”
“Mark?”
“My brother. He’s a cop and his station’s not too far from here.
Another big hunky Santori brother to fill up every molecule in this suddenly small-feeling shop? No, thanks. Her senses were already on overload, pushing her into dangerously aware territory. Territory she had no business even glancing at, much less curling up against.
Engaged man territory.
“I don’t think so. I’m okay, and I somehow doubt he’ll be back. Especially if his fiancée starts questioning him about the cut on his head.” Still feeling too close, too affected by a man she had no business being affected by, Rachel stepped away, retrieving the poor little groom figurine, who’d landed among the white satin wedding shoe display.
“Who was that guy?” Luke asked, leaning one hip against the counter and crossing his arms in front of his chest.
“The husband-to-be of one of my customers.”
He frowned. “Nice.”
Hearing his sarcasm, she for some reason felt compelled to elaborate. “It’s not as uncommon as you think. Grooms with cold feet seem to think the dressmaker’s their last chance for a fling.” She grinned wryly. “I suppose they consider me a safer bet than risking communicable diseases at their bachelor parties.”
A flash of something like anger made his eyes blaze and his jaw tighten. “This has happened before? Why don’t you have a panic alarm or something?”
She shook her head. “Nothing like this has happened before. It’s usually harmless flirtation. But it’s still annoying.”
“It’s more than annoying.” His jaw remained tight, his pulse visible in his temple. “What if I hadn’t shown up here?”
“I didn’t feel in any real danger.”
Until you walked in.
“Do you know self-defense?”
“Like Karate or something?”
He nodded.
“Uh...no. But my knee can do some damage. And I think my fingers are bony enough that if I punched a guy in the throat I could make it pretty darn hard for him to breathe.”
Rolling his eyes, grabbed her hand and lifted it. “Oh, yes, you should really register these things as lethal weapons.”
Only his obvious disapproval kept her from yanking her hand away in shock. Because she was apparently the only one of them who had felt the amazing flash of electric heat when their fingers had touched.
“I think Freddy’s neck was too fat for you to find his Adam’s Apple,” Luke said, still tsking, but now sounding slightly amused. “A finger in the eye is probably a safer bet.”
“I prefer the good old knee to the groin.”
“With nutless cowards like him, you might have a hard time hitting the target.”
His disgusted words startled a laugh from her lips. “Poor Cassie.”
“Cassie?”
“His fiancée.”
Finally realizing Luke was still holding her fingers, Rachel slowly pulled them away. She also sent a silent message to her heart to quit its ridiculous super-sonic beating and get back to its regular, uninterested, professional-woman rhythm.
“Thank you,” she finally murmured. “I’m glad you showed up.”
He met her steady stare and nodded to acknowledge her thanks. Then they both fell silent. Just...staring.
He looked at her as though he’d never met her before, and she couldn’t tug her gaze away from his dark brown eyes, sparkling with warmth and energy. Not cold. Nowhere near cold.
“You do know who I am, right?” he finally murmured, filling what had been a long, though not uncomfortable, silence.
“Sure.” She cleared her throat, figuring her wildly swinging emotions were causing that warble in her voice, and the weakness in her legs. “We’ve met at your parents’ restaurant.”
“I wondered if you remembered. Every time I see you, you look the other way or walk out the door.” His words, though, light and teasing, held a hint of accusation.
She couldn’t deny it. She had avoided him, thinking she was doing it because she didn’t like the third Santori brother, who wasn’t as playful and friendly as his two older siblings. The happily married ones.
Now she suspected she’d been avoiding him for another reason. Because she found him too attractive.
Definitely too attractive for a man scheduled to marry someone else in less than a month.
Want more? Don’t forget to visit www.janelledenison.com and www.toricarrington.com for sneak peeks at their wedding stories.
