Page 2 of Securing His Heart

“Apologies again. It’s like fingernails down a chalkboard, isn’t it?”

American.

She’d thought so when he’d first spoken, but it had been so brief, only two words she couldn’t have been certain.

“Yes, it is.” She kept eyes on the menu, maybe he wouldn’t talk to her.

Wow, arrogant much?

Why would the man want to spend his evening talking to her?

Too much time starring in the gossip rags had given her a sense of importance that she didn’t deserve—or want.

Lindy inhaled a big gulp. Would this breath be a cleansing one? One that would take away her grief and fatigue when she blew it out.

Unlikely, but she could hope.

Only as she took a breath, once again, the scent of citrus filled her lungs, and she couldn’t help herself, she had to look at the man occupying the stool beside her.

Their gazes clashed, his eyes a dark brown, matching the dark color of his hair. His square jaw was covered with a thin layer of dark stubble, giving him a piratical look. His hair was short on the back and sides, but long on the top and styled back from his forehead.

There was nothing boyish about him. His shoulders were broad, his shirt stretching at the seams. His hands were clasped on the bar top in front of him, and fine lines fanned out from his eyes, suggesting he either smiled or squinted a lot.

Maybe a combination of the two?

Either way, the man was seriously handsome and a hint of danger seemed to envelop him. Whether it be from the muscles bulging beneath his shirt or the way his eyes seemed to scan the room looking for trouble. If trouble broke out, she’d rather have him on her side than against her.

Again, where the heck were these thoughts coming from?

The American man was alluring, and she needed to stay well away from him. The last thing she needed, or wanted, was for a man to distract her—no matter how much he teased her long sleepy hormones awake.

She had a business to run.

A company to steer safely through the troubled waters of nervous shareholders and board members, worried that she was in way over her head.

“Can I buy you another drink?” he asked.

Lindy lifted her gaze from where she’d been studying his strong arms.

He was watching her, a slight uptick at the corners of his mouth, enhancing his already sexy good looks.

“Yes, that would be nice, thanks.”

What?

Why on earth did I say that?

Her brain hadn’t engaged her mouth, because if it had, it would’ve politely refused the invitation and she would’ve got up and left—ordering food forgotten.

He raised a finger and the bartender rushed over. “I’ll have a pint of this,” he indicated to the pale ale beer tap in front of her. “And she’ll have another glass of whatever she was drinking.”

Having already turned down his offer for another drink, if the bartender was surprised to see that she was, in fact, indulging again, he didn’t show it. He nodded at the menu still in her hand. “Did you want to order something?”

“Oh, umm, can I have a few more minutes?” Not that she needed them, Lindy had a fair idea what she wanted to eat, but it gave her hands something to clutch.

“Sure.” He looked over at her companion. “Do you want a menu too?”

“I could eat.”

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