One Wild Wedding Night_ All the Way - Leslie Kelly [4]
His heart twisted in his chest. No woman that lovely should ever have such a lost look on her face, as if she truly didn’t know what to do with her life. And any man who left her feeling as unsure about herself as this one looked didn’t deserve to be called a man.
She wasn’t too young, probably, in fact, around his age, in her midthirties. He counted that as a good thing. In his job, he met a lot of women. Young, vapid girls hanging with their girlfriends or hanging on their dates. Older, jaded women looking for a thrill even if they had to pay for it.
The young ones had no conversation, no allure. Nothing but white smiles and loud laughs. And the older ones had no emotions at all. Just entitlement.
This woman, though, had some substance. Real depth.
Sipping a creamy-looking chick drink, she wore an aura of aloofness that said she wasn’t interested in any attempts at conversation from a stranger. Especially a male stranger.
That very attitude posed a challenge that would intrigue any man. Especially one like him.
He didn’t approach her right away, instead watching from the doorway. She sipped slowly, then lowered her drink to the table. Running the tip of one finger around the rim of her glass, she looked neither left nor right, oblivious to the few other people around her. Sad, almost, with the tiniest downturn of her full lips and a small frown on her brow.
Despite the somber mood, she had a beautiful profile—pretty nose, high cheekbones, beautiful olive-toned skin. Her dark hair was pulled up onto her head in a complicated mass of curls, like she’d gone someplace special today.
It would look better down around her face. Curling beside one delicate cheek, draping over those slender shoulders, across those full breasts. Oh, she definitely had some curves. The black dress she wore was low cut enough to reveal a hint of mouthwatering cleavage, yet not enough to say she was looking for company.
He wondered if she’d want some, anyway.
It was certainly worth a shot. So, with a nod toward the cocktail waitress, he picked his way around the empty tables and went straight to the brunette’s. “Hello.”
She looked up quickly, startled from her thoughts, and her pretty lips parted on a gasp.
“Sorry to bother you, miss. But do you mind if I join you?”
Those eyes—yes, brown, heavily lashed, big and sparkling, God help him—widened even more. As if she had no idea she was beautiful and exotic looking. Was it really possible, he wondered, his heart twisting again, that she did not?
He’d remedy that. Damned if he wouldn’t.
“I, uh…”
“Look, I know I’m a complete stranger. I’m not going to try some sleazy line on you. I just thought you looked a little down and might like somebody to talk to.”
Her lashes half lowered over those eyes and she tilted her head away, as if thinking about it. Trying to decide.
It was at that moment he realized she was probably married. A lonely wife drinking alone in a hotel bar. While her husband was…where? Traveling? Working? In the arms of a mistress?
Fool. “Just a drink,” he murmured. “I’m new in town, I don’t know anybody and would rather not drink alone.”
She nibbled on her full bottom lip for a second, then nodded. Clearing her throat, she said, “Suit yourself. It’s a free country.”
That wasn’t exactly a rousing welcome, but he’d take what he could get. Sitting in a low, plush leather chair across the small table from her, he caught a whiff of her perfume. It was light but not flowery. Spicy. Unusual. He sensed it would only be the first unusual experience he’d have tonight.
“I’m…” He hesitated for a second, then came up with a name. “I’m Tom.”
One brow went up in a fine arch, as if she knew damn