Page 2 of Romanced By the Silver Fox

Where I come face-to-face with a man I haven’t seen in five years.

A million questions rush through my brain all at once: How is he here? When did he come back? What is going on? But loudest of all is the one asking how Grant Davies manages to look the same.

It’s unfair. Time should’ve changed him, somehow. Made him less beautiful. But his eyes are still the same bright blue, standing out against his slightly olive complexion. His body is still broad and muscular beneath the dark wool suit and coat he wears.

And his smile… oh, that smile is as sexy as ever.

I’m staring, I realize, but I couldn’t stop if I wanted to — and I don’t. Even after all this time, he is the most stunning man I’ve ever laid eyes on, and looking at him is a pleasure.

I should say something. Ask one of the hundreds of questions I have. But my tongue is tied in knots and I can’t think of a single thing to say that makes sense.

He runs a hand through the silver of his hair. He doesn’t need to; it’s perfect, just like the rest of him. It’s the only sign that he might not be as relaxed as he appears.

Just when I think we might spend this entire trip in silence, he reaches over and grabs my hand. What’s he going to do? Shake hands like we’re old friends? Give me a fist bump? Apologize?

Grant lifts my hand to his mouth, placing a gentle kiss on my knuckles.

“Hello, Genie,” my fiancé says.

CHAPTER2

GRANT

“What on earth–?”

Genie’s face cycles through a parade of emotions at once. Shock, fear, and surprise — and dare I say it, a tiny slice of pleasure? At least before she remembers what happened between us.

Then there’s regret, disappointment, and hurt.

No matter what expression she wears, it’s still the most beautiful face ever seen.

“Grant, is this some sort of game?” Her eyes are resigned. Weary. “I don’t understand what’s going on.”

I shrug, trying to seem nonchalant. “Your sister called me. She said you needed a ride after all. So here I am.”

“Dammit, Finola,” Genie mutters. “No wonder she didn’t specify who was coming.” She is right. Finola knows Genie would’ve rejected the idea out of hand. I thought it would be easier for her to accept a ride from me if it felt like something spur of the moment. As if it just happened.

Except, of course, that I’ve been planning this for weeks.

“Wait. You’re behind FLB Trust?” Genie’s face is stricken. “Marin works for you?”

For a moment, I misunderstand her words. It sounded like she saidmarriage works for you?

I was ready to go down on one knee and sayYes. As long as it’s with you, yes. Only ever with you.

Which would’ve been extremely awkward. She was referring to Marin, the very capable woman who helped arrange all this. Not confessing her undying love for me.

“Not exclusively for me. But yes, FLB Trust is her employer, and I am part of the company.”

Genie leans back in her seat and is silent the rest of the way to the hotel. She can’t escape me, but she turns her body toward the window and stares out at the city we used to call home. All right, then. That body language is pretty clear. Message received.

When we reach the hotel, Ted, the driver, gets out. He hands her luggage and mine over to the valet before opening Genie’s door. I exit the vehicle and follow her into the hotel lobby.

I had Marin book rooms here at Hotel D, in the heart of downtown Portland. It’s one of my favorite places in the city. The lobby is stunning, with striking old-world woodwork, and a William Morris-style wallpaper frieze near the ceiling. This place oozes power, and wealth, and old-fashioned glamour. But the way they’re all decorated for the winter holidays takes it up another level. Both of us stop and stare at the transformation.

The green, cream and bronze color scheme is much more formal than the rainbow of salt dough ornaments and multicolored tinsel we had growing up, but it’s nice to look at. The tree must be at least fifteen feet tall, and generous swags of garland punctuated with creamy white bows are wrapped around the staircase in the lobby. Soft classical versions of Christmas carols play in the background.

The elegant setting suits Genie. Even in her casual wear, she looks perfectly at home. I place a hand on her shoulder. She flinches. Desperation makes a knot in my gut. Have I gone about this all wrong? Did I ruin whatever slim chance I had to get Genie back?

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