A Forgotten Promise

CHAPTER TWO

"OoH. Ride 'em, COWBOY."

Anne Margaretta Ford paused in the act of checking a catalog item number to see her assistant manager Shella, was talking about---or rather who.

She had to squint even she's wearing her glasses due to the bright sunlight coming from outside her shop, but she was able to make out a very tall, broad-shouldered man who had paused outside the door of Le' Primera.

She frozed on her seat, while staring at the man outside her shop. She knew him. Of course he knew him, that man shared the same blood to the man she was dreaming most of the night.

He looked down at something in his large hand as though double checking the address. then frowned into the interior of Anne's shop, even though she knew he couldn't see beyond the window displays.

"He's not John Wayne but I'd tap that." her assistant said. "Oh, he's coming in!"

Anne shook her head at Shella's behavior, knowing her assistant was trying to lighten the mood.

"You can go back to your work, I'll get this." she smiled to her assistant.

Shella gave her a thumbs up and walked toward the pile of sexy lingerie they were selling.

She designed most of their sexy lingerie, to make it unique and regal.

Le Primera, located at the heart of busy city of New York.

The electronic door chime did its thing and the cowboy stepped inside. He wore jeans and boots, and a plain white T-shirt that wasn't quite cowboyish but showed off the rock-hard muscle of his arms. No sense in hiding those guns.

The hat was the kicker, though. Apparently he can played the good guy on whatever movie or soap opera he filmed.

When he stopped to peruse their latest design-tiny black lace corset with soft pink ribbons and matching panties. She found herself studying his face. She really missed Logan, obviously she is.

Shella couldn't contained herself--approached him with an extra sway in her sashay. "Welcome. I'm Shella. May I help you?"

The moment he heard Shella speak, the man pierced her with surprisingly intense stare.

"Maybe."

Shella gave him her most flirtatious smile. "We're the best in business. Are you looking for something for your wife? A girlfriend?"

Instead of answering Shella's question, the cowboy's gaze shifted to Anne and narrowed.

"You're not the woman I need to see.

A knot formed in Anne's stomach.

Maintaining eye contact, he left the display of the corset and moved toward her. Anne straightened her full height. She was five-eight-a-half in her barefeet and presently wore four-inch heels, but this man definitely broader, and he moved with a careful pace, like a man stalking prey.

"Anne Margarett." he icily said.

She went stilled from where she was standing. She saw a fire through his eyes now that they were to close to each other.

"Douglas Theodore Finn, what are you doing here?" she whispered.

Despite the hat, crinkles fanned out from the man's eyes from too much time in the sun. His boots were well worn, layered with coating of dust he didn't picked up on any street in New York.

"We need to talk, privately." he said.

She stared at him. "What about it?"

Douglas took a deep breath. "Its about Logan."