Chapter 2

Before my brain, overtaxed by both the dark-eyed, black-haired windmill so near me and lingering exhaustion, could scrounge any other bright ideas, a gust blasted across us. Fatter droplets shot sideways under the streetlight. At the sound of teeth chattering, I returned to her pale visage.

Still wide and locked on me, her eyes gleamed beneath a knitted brow. Under that intense gaze, heat fought the chill on my face, but I glanced at the glinting diamond on her finger. That heat cooled, and I looked toward the footbridge’s gentle arch and the curving roadway beyond, leading me away from the wrong neighborhood, filled with so many windmills ... and her.

At the bench queen’s sudden leap upward, I jolted, then scanned a slender yet shapely, tall frame. The hem of the micro-skirt hadn’t fallen much, displaying sleek long legs. Oh, and yes, I noticed the ivory top glued to a straining black lace bra; one thin enough to hide little.

At my inspection, she flashed me the tiniest grin before blocking the view of her bust with both crossed arms. Yet, a glimmer in her eyes declared if it hadn’t been cold and rainy, she wouldn’t have minded me looking. Good for business, perhaps? But the night being horrid, her gaze shifted, scanning the flooded road and the cloud-swaddled towers beyond the bridge.

“Got an idea, mister knight,” she said, hugging herself tighter.

“What?”

Exasperation filled my voice; the chill gnawing at my bones had deepened. Teeth clattering, I rose into the buffeting breeze.

“Take me home.”

When she flashed me a wider grin, that heat returned ... not just to my skin, but deeper inside. Pelted by raindrops, standing in my shadow—she wasn’t that tall—the woman transformed, her face becoming the one that launched a thousand ships. No, that had been Helen of Troy, but it had the same effect ... at least on me.

Fine, we’re back to the first plan. In the rising sunlight, amid sheets of rain, the row houses seemed a little closer.

“Uh, okay.” After a quick glance at her ample chest, mashed by her arms but still quivering in the chill, I began lifting my T-shirt. “Um, you want...”

“Oh, that’s helping.” She stared at my stomach as the sodden cotton peeled upward.

“What?” My hands stopped, and I remained glued to her dark eyes rather than risking another peek as her arms lowered a little. “Um, you look cold. And, uh, that blouse isn’t ... Well, my shirt ... It could cover you.”

“Yeah, but what’s that gonna look like?”

At her quiet giggle, confusion again flooded my brain. At that point, dad would’ve given up. Nah, that’s a lie. He would never have been stupid enough to stop in the first place.

“Huh?” My fingers tightened on the shirt’s hem. Not unlike a switch, my mind flicked on and off. Lift it further or let it drop, covering me?

“Shirtless hunk taking me to his home?”

The words had arrived in such an even tone it took several replays in my whirling brain before a shaky gasp left me. As the world staggered sideways, she blurred, but at another quiet chuckle, I focused, locking onto her smile and arched eyebrows.

“My home?” I whispered. Although I’d meant to speak louder, my voice box wouldn’t work.

“What? You gonna rape me?”

“Huh.” I jerked backward. “What? No!”

“Jeez, I was only kidding.” Her abrupt laughter and the amused twinkling in those eyes sent spears of heat through my core. “ ... you’ve got a phone” She raised a palm, capturing spattered droplets. “Plus, it’s outta this.”

With a sigh, she glanced at the heavy clouds. Although only in the corner of my vision, the sudden glimpse of translucence-covered thin black lace over a firm globe of paler olive had my pulse hammering.