~Fantasy Lover Part 11~ •
Grace did what most any woman would do while confronting a naked man in her living room. She screamed. Then she ran for the front door, only forgetting that the cushions were still on the floor where the had piled them. Tripping over two, she went sprawling. No! she silently cried as she landed in a painful heap. She had to do something to protect herself. Terrified and shaking, she scrambled through the cushions, looking for a weapon. Feeling something, she pulled her hand up only to find a pink bunny slipper. Dammit! Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the wine bottle. Grace toll toward it and grabbed it in her hand, then whirled to face her intruder. Faster than she could react, he wrapped his warm hand around her wrist, tenderly immobilizing it. "Are you hurt?" he asked. Good gracious, but his sift yet masculine voice was rich, with a thick, lilting accent that could only be described as musical. Erotic. And downright yummy. Her senses dulled, Grace looked up and well....Quite honestly, there was only one thing she saw, and it made her face hotter than Cajun gumbo. After all, how could she miss it since it was such an arm's reach away. And it was such a large it, too. In the next instant, he knelt by her side and gently brushed her hair out of her eyes. He ran his hands over her scalp as if feeling for an injury. Her gaze feasted on his chest. Unable to move or look past all that incredible skin, Grace fought the urge to moan at the intensely wicked sensation of his fingers in her hair. Her entire body burned from it. "Did you hit your head?" he asked. Again that strange, glorious voice that reverberated through her like a warm, soothing caress. She stared at the wealth of golden, tawny skin that seemed to beckon her hand to reach out and touch it. He practically glowed! Compelled, she wanted to see his face, to see for herself if the whole of him was as incredible as his body. As she looked up, her mouth dropped and the wine bottle slid from her numbed fingers. It was him! No! it couldn't be. This couldn't be happening to her, and he couldn't be naked in her living room with his hands in her hair. Things like this just didn't happen in real life. Mist especially not to average people like her. And yet.... "Michael?" she asked breathlessly. His dark brown hair fell in haphazard curls around his cleanly shaven face that looked as if it really had been carved from stone. Unbelievably handsome and captivating, his face was neither pretty nor feminine. But it was definitely breathtaking. Full, sensuous lips curved into a halfhearted smile displaying a set of perfectly aligned teeth that shined a brightening shade of white. And those eyes, gracious! They were a dark, inviting chocolate brown that seared with intensity and shined with intellect. She had a feeling his looks, really could kill. Or at the very least, devastate. And she certainly was devastated at the moment. Captivated by a man too perfect to be real.
