PROLOGUE
“Drat!This is so annoying. What was I thinking?” Sofia grumbled to herself as she stomped her way through the closed restaurant to her office.
How had she forgotten to grab her handbag?
They’d been halfway home before she’d remembered, and she’d had to get Arseni to turn around and drive her back. He was waiting just inside the door of Solynshko while she grabbed her bag.
Idiot!
She was tired after working late and her back was killing her. There were painkillers in her handbag. Hopefully they’d would take the edge off so she could sleep.
Grabbing her handbag, she headed back out. Her head was down as she searched through her purse. Where was her phone?
God. Had she left it somewhere else?
She swore she could barely remember her own name at the moment.
Suddenly, she walked smack into a wall. She barely managed to hold on to her handbag as she flew backward.
Crap!
The landing was going to be hell on her back.
But before she could land on her ass, two large hands grabbed her, pulling her back onto her feet. She stumbled slightly, feeling disorientated, but the hands held onto her waist, steadying her.
“Since when do walls have hands?” she muttered.
A low chuckle greeted her. “Well, lucky for you that this wall does since you’d have landed on your ass otherwise.”
Wait.
Now the wall was talking? This was so weird. Did someone spike her drink?
And even more strange . . . the wall had a Scottish accent.
“A Scottish wall? That’s bizarre,” she said.
The wall laughed.
Dear Lord.
Obviously, not a wall, Sofia!
“You’re a strange one, aren’t you?” he murmured.
She winced, aware that she was acting like an idiot. Blinking, she stared at the man-wall in front of her. Her gaze hit a broad chest encased in a black shirt.
Um. Yum.
Then she raised her gaze up. Then up some more.
“Whoa, you’re tall,” she exclaimed.
Intelligent, Sofia. Really intelligent.
The man-wall grinned. “How big can a wall get?”
“As big as it wants, I imagine. But it seems that Scottish walls are really, really big.”