Page 5 of Empowered
But what tickled Sarah’s fancy the most was the face. Clean, angular jaw. Cheekbones that gave him character without claiming the whole of his face. Wide forehead with only a hint of a few lines. Eyes as blue as the lights shining in the hallway. Brows that furrowed whenever the other men spoke. Occasionally he said something in English before jumping back into Danish. His English accent was familiarly American.
As it so happened, this man and Sarah made eye contact exactly once during his meeting. It was in that moment, when a chill shot through Sarah’s body, that she realized she would be sleeping with this man tonight.
Perhaps he didn’t know it yet.Look at the way he glances back at me.One last time before giving the men he was with his undivided attention.
There were other men in the room. Some readily available for a woman to make their nighttime dreams come true. Some of those even approached Sarah, informing her of her beauty, in case she didn’t know she possessed it.
They wanted to buy her drinks. She wanted them to leave her alone.
It took an hour for the two older blond men to shake the American’s hand and excuse themselves from the VIP room. By then, Sarah had her pick of three different men, two of whom were still in the room. But she didn’t care about them. The only one she cared about was the man checking his phone and firing off a text. Either way, he wasn’t looking Sarah’s direction.
A shame. Because those dazzling blue eyes should be soaking her up. Always.
Sarah admired the way his powerful hands punched numbers and letters into his phone. The curl of his lips into a smile as he thought himself awfully clever. The relaxed posture that took over when he decided he was now off the clock. He sank back into his chair, still comfortably powerful, commanding, and regal in the way he sat. He was both open to communication and closed off from the world. If only Sarah could get him to notice her.
She gestured to one of the servers. “Is he a bourbon man?”
“Close.” That got Sarah a small smile. “Scotch.”
“Get me one, please.”
The server glanced between Sarah and the man. “Aiming high tonight, even for you.”
“Am I? I have no idea who that is.”
Sarah didn’t care to hear the man’s name from anyone but him. Better that way.
Within five minutes she had a glass of scotch and a wink of encouragement from the server. Sarah slipped off her stool and approached the imposing figure still perusing his phone.
When he could be perusing me… for shame.
“You look thirsty.” The glass of scotch hung from her hand, her other hand on her hip. “Care to join me?” Her nail tapped against the glass.
Those sultry blues looked her up and down, mostly lingering on her face, but occasionally taking in her coat and wig. Men loved blondes, didn’t they?Just have to ask my boss that question to find out the answer.Not that Sarah gave one single shit about Mr. Monroe’s opinion about… anything.
“I know you can speak English.” Sarah sat in one of the chairs a blond man once held down. “I heard you speaking some earlier.” She placed the glass of scotch on the small table between them.
“My English is better than my Danish, yes.” The man pocketed his phone before leaning farther back into his chair. “To whom do I owe this extraordinary pleasure?”
His voice was deep, yet friendly. A warm tone that would have put the real Sarah instantly at ease. Angel got turned on from a voice like this.
Really, really turned on.
“Angel.” She primped without realizing at first. Stuck out her chest and fingered the long locks of her wig. “That’s what they call me around here.”
“Let me guess,” the man said with a mild droll, “you’re sent straight from Heaven.”
“Some people think so.”
“Those people tend to be men, hm?”
What do you want from me?Sarah flashed him her teeth as she leaned forward, elbows on her knees. It gave him a fantastic view of her cleavage in her pushup bra. “Who are you? I’ve never seen you around here before.” She played a dangerous game referencing that she had been here before. Some men didn’t like hearing that. Stole their fantasies, or something equally ridiculous. “You must be from out of town.”
“You can say that again.”
“From Denmark?”
He arched his eyebrows. “So you recognized Danish? Don’t come across that very often in the States.”
