Maya Brown had seen loads of men walk through the store doors, but there was something different about this one. And no, it wasn’t just because he could possibly, be the best looking guy she’d set eyes upon.

There was something even deeper, a commanding aura that surrounded him and gave her all kinds of fanciful thoughts just from watching him approach. He hadn’t noticed her yet, so she could view him with candid interest. He had those noble, well-placed features that would have suited a stately ruler of some ancient empire in far off lands. Baby-smooth skin, dark wavy hair, and a body sculpted to perfection in his casual attire of jeans and buttoned down check shirt. Maya put his height at six foot one at least, and every inch of it sat well on his proportionately built frame. Like most girls Maya was partial to a mass of muscle, yet this guy with his lean and mean perfection held a unique new appeal.

In a few words he was hot, he was sexy, and she better get her head straight and stop staring, thought Maya.

One thing she did know, the man certainly fit right into the atmosphere of high-end designer finery surrounding them. Maya had worked in a men’s store for more than four years and had learned more than a bit about style and elegance – and this man had it in spades. He made those jeans look good, not the other way round and the same went for every other item he had on.

Maya let him have a minute just taking in the store, but soon she couldn’t curb her enthusiasm and dived forward before any of the other store clerks could intervene.

When she reached his side, he looked up and Maya felt her hovering smile almost capsize beneath the urge to hang her mouth open in awe. Up close she had her first glimpse of his startling blue eyes, so in contrast with his dark wavy hair. He gave a smile and just like that, Maya felt her panties cream. If any man could personify sex with his mere smile, it was this guy.

Whoa, he made her so hot and he hadn’t even opened his mouth.

“If you’re looking for a suit, I can help you find something appropriate,” Maya offered, turning on her well-honed professionalism with difficulty. The man turned his striking gaze back to the row of suits he’d been perusing.

“Thank you, that sounds good. I need something in black, for a formal event.”

Maya was taken aback once again, this time by his French accent. No wonder there was something a little different about him. The foreign types always stood out in some way, and if you were smart enough you could pick it out. Especially when it concerned their fashion style.

She wished he’d say something else in that sexy voice, but instead she settled for doing her job. They looked through different black suits and she helped him select several, then suggested he might want to check out the shirts as well.

Maya prided herself in being the shop girl to end all shop girls. After holding jobs in almost every type of boutique that the Miracle Mile had to offer, she certainly honed her craft to the pinnacle. From toy stores, art galleries and now, high end fashion retail, Maya believed she’d finally found her niche.

Her outgoing personality ensured she could draw out anyone and make them feel comfortable around her. She didn’t take long to get her new customer talking, as he admitted that shopping was usually an ordeal.

“Not when you come to the right place, it isn’t. Are you ready to trust my opinion?” Maya gave her best warm smile, and saw him respond in kind as he seemed to relax in relief.

“I mean, I wouldn’t want something that would look like my mama picked it out, so yes, please. I need all the help I can get,” he said.

“Then follow me,” Maya said sweetly and moved on ahead. She wondered if there was a chance those gorgeous blue eyes could be trained on the sway of her hips in the black skirt she wore with heels and a cream blouse, the uniform of the store.

Not that she thought there’d be any chance he’d be into black girls. Maya kept a slim, shapely figure thanks to not just exercise and diet but damn good genes as well – and she knew looks wise she wasn’t doing badly for her ripe age of twenty eight. She mostly turned heads, if she had to admit, yet it didn’t seem likely her shocking attraction to this European god was in any way reciprocal.

The guy just wanted some nice clothes, so yeah, Maya would do her bit. And it was the most enjoyable part of her job to get to serve such a gorgeous, charming and courteous customer. He couldn’t be above thirty, and had such a calm gravity about him that was so intriguing. Almost like he could be a painter or a writer, or something really deep and eloquent. Or she could be way off mark and he could be some nerdy tech guy, or even a banker. Though, it would be a shame to waste that whipcord body behind a desk all day, Maya mused dreamily.