Page 1 of Promised Vows

Chapter One

ANNA

Four little words took my evening from predictable to miserable in about as many seconds.

Five o’clock. My office.

It was like my brother didn’t understand that I had a life. One that required a crappy job, so I could pay my rent. My jackass boss—and I could use that term because when he laughed, he sounded like one—expected me in my seat an hour from now taking customer calls at Chicago Wireless Unlimited.

So I got straight to the point.

Uh, no.

I wasn’t going for witty and profound.

It won’t take long, Anna. I expect to see you in fifteen minutes.

That was my brother’s immediate response. Because of course, it was.

After eight months of radio silence, out of the blue, he demands my presence and I’m supposed to drop everything and break my neck racing to his Wicker Park office.

I sighed and threw a few nasty words at him under my breath. That’s exactly what he expected, and I knew it, which was why I was on my way there.

My brother, Jason, ruled over the Georgiou Family Construction business. What most didn’t see was the grime beneath the façade. Guns—that was the real family business. I wanted nothing to do with any of it. Not since Jason squeezed me out, pushed me away, and left me with nothing but the bitter taste of betrayal.

Pausing at the next crosswalk, I flagged down a taxi for a ride. When the car pulled along the curb, I jumped in and quickly discovered that it was already occupied. Maybe I was too lost in my thoughts to notice if the light was off. “I’m sorry. If?—”

He stopped me with his hand. “It’s okay. You look like you might be in a hurry.” It was the strangest thing, and I had no solid justification for it, but it was like I was getting into a cab with an old friend.

“Thank you.” Smiling, I gave the driver the address to my brother’s office and settled back in my seat as he pulled into traffic. “Are we at least going the same way?”

“Not too far apart.” His voice was caramel. The sort of voice a woman wanted to sink into, the sort of voice a woman wanted to hear as it whispered sweet nothings. I had to fend off a physical reaction.

I fidgeted with the collar of my sweater for a moment and then glanced at the gentleman next to me. The way he was crammed into the seat gave him at least three inches over my five-nine—maybe more. I was a walking list of dating pool challenges. One of them was a man who could look me in the eyes. A needle in a haystack.

Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath, letting my senses fill with his delicious, woodsy scent. On the back end was the hint of iris. Givenchy? With another deep breath, I was convinced I was right. I could almost taste the cedar base of the cologne. I’d once come close to landing a commercial for the stuff, so I’d scoped out the scent. It was in my top ten favorites.

I opened my eyes and glanced at him. With the way he was dressed, I had to wonder if he hadn’t recently finished a modeling shoot himself. The fedora sat slightly askew, but in a way that said it was intentional, not happenstance. It covered a head full of dark hair that was perfect for running my fingers through or fisting. Either would have worked for me.

Behind the dark gray Brunello wool coat, an equally dark suit peeked out, along with a crisp white dress shirt and a deep red silk tie that complemented it. I couldn’t see enough of the suit to guess the designer. To finish off the expensive look were black John Lobb dress shoes.

If he dressed himself, I would be impressed because he had excellent taste. Everything fit him like it was tailored especially for him. I raked my gaze upward and landed on his olive-shaded side profile. I’m not sure if I willed it so hard he was compelled to look at me or what, but when he did, my breath caught as the most crystalline blue deep-set eyes met mine. My heart tripled its pace.

He had an appealing, symmetrical face with a firm jaw and the most perfect dark dusty rose lips I’d ever seen. Madame Tussauds was committing a crime against womanhood by not having this specimen of a man in her museum. He was breathtakingly gorgeous, and I was certain he knew it when his lips quirked up on one side.

Normally, I didn’t openly gawk at anyone because I’d seen plenty of pretty faces during my time as a model, but there was something about him that appealed to me on a level very few ever had.

He gave a slow blink, showing off sexy long lashes. I was half tempted to reach out and touch him to make sure I wasn’t conjuring the perfect boyfriend. It had been a while.

“Like what you see?” He ended the sentence with a flirty smile, his tongue peeking out to lick his bottom lip.

Oh, yeah, he knew he was hot. I huffed, unsure how I could extract myself from the embarrassing situation I’d landed in. Instead of running from it, I paddled around in the pool I’d jumped into with both feet. “Actually, yes. Did you come from a modeling audition, or maybe a magazine shoot?”

A deep baritone laugh turned my insides mushy. Tall, dark, and yummy was a treat for the eyes and ears.

He shook his head. “No, I came from a business meeting.”

“I’m well connected with designers. I could probably get you an audition if you ever wanted one.”

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