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(I'm redoing my Dove Smuggler series. Editing/adding/deleting I hope you like it!)
Prologue
New Jersey
April 24th, 2000
He couldn’t take his eyes off her. That dress was made to tease a man. Specifically him. Whether by intent or not, he took it personally. He couldn’t look away, afraid he’d miss something. The sway of her hips, the glide of cotton against her legs. The low dip of material over her chest. Damn. He felt like a voyeur. And the shit of it was, he wasn’t even doing anything wrong. It was just the woman herself. Made him feel like a peeping tom.
And then she smiled.
The sun was shining but until that moment he never felt the warmth on his skin. He breathed deep and took in a lung full of air that seemed all the sweeter.
There was something wrong with him.
Something that had nothing to do with physical illness and everything to do with the woman currently chatting with a merchant across the street. Sitting outside this cafe had been his escape from the world. His days off were so rare lately that he came here only to relax. Let time stop for an hour or two. He had ordered a cup of coffee that was getting cold. He apparently didn’t give a damn because he was already reaching for his wallet, pulling out a twenty and laying it under his cup. Only, when he looked back across the street there was no woman there. No angel in floral cotton tempting him. Delusion? Imagination?
He looked up and down the street with his hope swirling down the drain. Figures, Carl. The first beautiful thing you find and you lose her. Typical.
The coffee had cooled enough that he scowled into his cup, mentally berating himself for the fool that he was.
“Excuse me, is this seat taken?”
Even without turning his head, he knew it was the woman from across the street. The angel who was meant to save him; rescue him from his own hell.
New Jersey
April 24th, 2000
He couldn’t take his eyes off her. That dress was made to tease a man. Specifically him. Whether by intent or not, he took it personally. He couldn’t look away, afraid he’d miss something. The sway of her hips, the glide of cotton against her legs. The low dip of material over her chest. Damn. He felt like a voyeur. And the shit of it was, he wasn’t even doing anything wrong. It was just the woman herself. Made him feel like a peeping tom.
And then she smiled.
The sun was shining but until that moment he never felt the warmth on his skin. He breathed deep and took in a lung full of air that seemed all the sweeter.
There was something wrong with him.
Something that had nothing to do with physical illness and everything to do with the woman currently chatting with a merchant across the street. Sitting outside this cafe had been his escape from the world. His days off were so rare lately that he came here only to relax. Let time stop for an hour or two. He had ordered a cup of coffee that was getting cold. He apparently didn’t give a damn because he was already reaching for his wallet, pulling out a twenty and laying it under his cup. Only, when he looked back across the street there was no woman there. No angel in floral cotton tempting him. Delusion? Imagination?
He looked up and down the street with his hope swirling down the drain. Figures, Carl. The first beautiful thing you find and you lose her. Typical.
The coffee had cooled enough that he scowled into his cup, mentally berating himself for the fool that he was.
“Excuse me, is this seat taken?”
Even without turning his head, he knew it was the woman from across the street. The angel who was meant to save him; rescue him from his own hell.
Her voice beckoned him home.
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