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Mary thought of topiaries and smiled a little, just as a harried waitress came up to the table. The woman put down a plastic glass of water, spilling some.

“You waiting for someone?”

“Yes, I am.”

“You want a drink?”

“This is fine. Thanks.”

As the waitress took off, Mary sipped the water, tasted metal, and pushed the glass away. Out of the corner of her eye she caught a flurry of movement at the front door.

Holy…Wow.

A man had walked into the restaurant. A really, really…very fine man.

He was blond. Movie-star beautiful. And monumental in a black leather trench coat. His shoulders were broad as the door he’d come through, his legs so long he was taller than anyone in the place. And as he strode through the knot of people at the entrance, the other men looked down or away or at their watches, as if they knew they couldn’t measure up to what he had going on.

Mary frowned, feeling like she’d seen him somewhere before.

Yeah, it’s called the big screen, she told herself. Maybe there was a movie being shot here in town.

The man stepped up to the hostess and ran his eyes over the woman as if trying her on for size. The redhead blinked up at him in stunned disbelief, but then clearly her estrogen receptors came to the rescue. She pulled her hair forward, as if she wanted to make sure he noticed the stuff, and then kicked out her hip as if she’d popped the thing out of joint.

Don’t worry, Mary thought. He sees you, honey.

As the two of them started coming through the restaurant, the man surveyed every table, and Mary wondered who he was eating with.

Aha. Two booths away there was a blonde seated alone. Her fuzzy blue sweater was skintight, the angora shrink-wrap showing off a dazzling display of assets. And the woman was radiating anticipation as she watched him come through the restaurant.

Bingo. Ken and Barbie.

Well, not really Ken. As the guy walked along, there was something about him that wasn’t WASPy handsome in spite of his amazing looks. Something…animalistic. He just didn’t carry himself as other people did.

Actually, he moved like a predator, thick shoulders rolling with his gait, head turning, scanning. She had the discomforting sense that if he wanted to, he could wipe out everyone in the place with his bare hands.

Calling on her willpower, Mary forced herself to stare into her water glass. She didn’t want to be like all the other gawking fools.

Oh, hell, she had to look up again.

He’d bypassed the blonde and was standing in front of a brunette directly across the aisle. The woman was smiling broadly. Which seemed only reasonable.

“Hey,” he said.

Well, what do you know. Voice was spectacular, too. A deep, resonant drawl.

“Hi, yourself.”

The man’s tone sharpened. “You are not Mary.”

Mary tensed. Oh, no.

“I’ll be anyone you want.”

“I’m looking for Mary Luce.”

Oh…shit.

Mary cleared her throat, wishing she were anywhere else, anyone else. “I’m…ah, I’m Mary.”

The man turned around. As vivid, teal blue eyes bored into her, his big body stiffened.

Mary looked down quickly, jabbing the straw into her water.

Not what you were expecting, am I? she thought.

As silence stretched out, clearly he was searching for a socially acceptable excuse to cut and run.

God, how could Bella have humiliated her like this?

Rhage stopped breathing and just took the human in. Oh, she was lovely. Nothing he’d expected, but lovely nonetheless.

Her skin was pale and smooth, like fine ivory stationery. The bones of her face were equally delicate, her jaw a graceful arch running from her ears to her chin, her cheeks high and tinted with a natural blush. Her neck was long and slender, like her hands and probably her legs. Her deep brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail.

She wore no makeup, he couldn’t detect any perfume, and the only jewelry she had on was a pair of tiny pearl earrings. Her off-white sweater was bulky and loose, and he was willing to bet her pants were also baggy.

There was absolutely nothing about her that courted notice. She wasn’t anything like the females