His touch felt nice. His big hands were gentle, and she found that sexy. Although it would be totally inappropriate, she wished he’d kiss her scrapes and make them all better. “I have Neosporin in my suitcase back at the hotel.” At least she’d have a place to stay. She’d given them her credit card number. That card was gone, but she hoped to get a replacement before she checked out.
“Are you traveling with someone? I can call them.” He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a phone.
She shook her head. “I came by myself.”
“Then let’s start with the police. Did you get a look at those old boys?”
“Not really.”
“Never mind. I did.” He punched in a number and spoke in French.
Melanie listened with great admiration. He no longer sounded like a Texan as he carried on a conversation without stumbling. Prior to this trip she’d enrolled in an online course and had learned enough to find a bathroom and order a meal. But this guy was fluent, which was her good luck.
If she was super-lucky, he had an international plan and she’d be able to borrow his phone to call Val, who could help her straighten things out with the credit card companies. Maybe it was cheeky to ask, but she was in desperate circumstances.
Although he was dressed casually, his jacket looked expensive and his watch might even be a real Rolex. Judging from his ease with the language, he could be a businessman who traveled to Paris regularly. If so, he wouldn’t mind loaning her his phone for two minutes.
He disconnected the call and tucked the phone inside his jacket. “They’re sending someone over, so we need to stay put.” He gestured toward a stone bench a few feet away. “Let’s sit a spell.” He was once again her guy from Texas.
“Sounds good.” She wouldn’t mind sitting down. She felt a little shaky. “I’m afraid I’ve ruined your plans for this morning.”
“No, ma’am, you certainly haven’t.” He waited until she sat down before joining her on the bench. “You’re the one with ruined plans. When did you get here?”
“This morning.”
He swore softly under his breath. “I figured that might be the situation when I saw you eyeballing Nôtre-Dame as if you’d never seen it before.”
“I hadn’t, except in pictures.” Then she realized the significance of his statement. He’d noticed her before the mugging. “Did I stick out that much?”
He smiled. “Let’s just say I pegged you as an American.”
“How?” She liked the way he’d managed to smile without appearing to patronize her. And he had a great smile, one that made the corners of his eyes crinkle just enough to add character. As the shock of being mugged wore off, she registered the fact that her rescuer was drop-dead gorgeous.
“White gym shoes, for one thing. Frenchwomen don’t usually wear gym shoes unless they’re working up a sweat. But the whole getup—the jeans, the hoodie, the backpack—told me you were from the States, probably a new arrival.”
She grimaced. “I’ll bet the muggers figured that out, too.”
“They might have.” He held out his hand. “I’m Drew Eldridge, by the way.”
Eldridge. She’d heard that name, and she thought it might have been from Astrid, whose family was rich. Did that mean her Texan was wearing a real Rolex? His handshake was warm, firm, and gave her goose bumps. She was really sorry when the handshake was over. “I’m Melanie Shaw.”
“Pleased to meet you, Miss Melanie. I wish it had been under different circumstances.”
“Me, too.” If he was related to the Eldridge family Astrid knew, Melanie wouldn’t have been likely to meet him under any circumstances, unless she was with Astrid, who moved in those circles. “Are you from Dallas?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Then you might know a friend of mine, Astrid Lindberg.”
“Astrid Lindberg.” He chuckled. “I haven’t seen her in a coon’s age. We were at the same equestrian camp one summer, although she was with the younger kids. Some old horse tried to run off with her and I was handy. I was worried she’d swear off riding, but she didn’t.”
“She sure didn’t.” Melanie noticed that although Drew had come to Astrid’s rescue, he’d downplayed his role by saying he was handy. “She’s a large-animal vet now.”
“Is she? That’s great.”
“So, are you here on business?” Melanie imagined multinational deals involving millions. From what she could recall, the Eldridge family was loaded.
“Some business. Some pleasure.”
“Ah.” So the multinational deal making was followed by glittering parties and sophisticated Frenchwomen who never wore gym shoes with their regular clothes. Yet he’d interrupted all that to help a stranger from home. “Listen, I really appreciate all you’ve done. I’m sure I’ve screwed up your morning and you’re too polite to say so.”
“Nope. It’s a sunny day and I’d decided to—” A soft chime interrupted whatever he’d been about to say. “Excuse me.” Taking out his phone, he glanced at the readout. “I should take this.” He stood and walked a few feet away.
Hanging out with such a good-looking guy was a heady experience that kept her adrenaline pumping, so she was relieved for a few moments alone to gather her thoughts. If not for her friendship with Astrid, she might have been intimidated by someone like Drew Eldridge. As it was, she was simply grateful. And a little turned-on, which served as a great antidote to worrying about losing her stuff.
Having Drew show up was a stroke of luck. Someone with his wealth would have an international-calling plan. If she didn’t pay him back until she got home, he probably wouldn’t care. Once he was off the phone, she would ask to make a call. Val had a key to her apartment and could retrieve her credit card information.
The police arrived right after Drew ended his call, so she didn’t have a chance to borrow the phone. Thank God, Drew was there to guide her through the process, though. After the officers left, she glanced up at him. “Do you think they’ll recover my backpack?”
“There’s always a chance.”
“But not a very good one, right?”
“I won’t lie to you, Melanie. They may find your backpack, although I figure it’s in a Dumpster by now. But the contents . . .” He shrugged. “Not likely.”
“Speaking of those contents, could I please borrow your phone to call my friend Valerie back home? She can access my credit card info so I can cancel my cards.”
“Yes, ma’am, you sure can. Tell you what. I’ll give you a lift back to your hotel so you can doctor those hands. You can call your friend on the way there.”
“You have a car?”
“I do.”
Silly of her to think he’d be on foot, like she was. “You know, that’s a lovely offer but my hotel isn’t very far away.” That wasn’t quite true. She’d walked at least ten blocks to get here. “I’ll just borrow your phone for a minute. I’ve taken up too much of your valuable time already.”
“Sorry, but my mama raised me better than that. You’ve suffered a shock, and I intend to see you safely back to your hotel.”
Oh, wow. He not only looked like a god—he knew the right things to say that would make a girl melt into a puddle. She’d be a fool to resist a display of gentlemanly manners by a heroic figure like Drew, especially when she’d just been mugged by two guys from the shallow end of the gene pool.
Read on for a look at the second novel
in the Perfect Man series by Vicki Lewis Thompson,
Tempted by a Cowboy
Available now from InterMix in e-book.
“I can’t lose her.” Fletcher Grayson crouched beside the bay mare and stroked her sweat-dampened neck as she lay on her side in the foaling stall, her breath labored.
“We’re not going to lose her.” Astrid Lindberg was determined that both mare and foal would survive this night. Fletch had called her emergency line at ten p.m. It was a testimony to her lack of a social life that she’d been home on a Saturday nigh
t.
She’d rushed out to the Rocking G, driving through a summer downpour. It was what locals called a trash mover of a rain, falling in endless sheets of water. Four hours later, the rain continued to pound the roof of the barn, and Janis still hadn’t foaled.
Astrid had monitored the pregnant mare for weeks, ever since the first signs of edema. Because of the swelling, Janis’s abdomen was far more distended than it would be in a normal pregnancy. The condition was worrisome, and recently Fletch had kept her confined to the barn and a small paddock to restrict her movements.
Some vets might have performed a C-section by now. Astrid preferred to see if Janis could deliver naturally, which would mean a better start for both mother and baby. Luckily Fletch agreed with her.
Fletch tended to agree with her on most things, which made her job as his vet much easier. It also made her life as a woman frustrating as hell. From her first glimpse of the broad-shouldered rancher, she’d been in trouble. Fletch Grayson was hot. And single. And a client. He was definitely off-limits.
“I think she wants to get up.” Fletch stood and backed away. Concern shone in his brown eyes. “I wish she’d just have that foal and be done with it.”
“Me, too.” Astrid rose and edged back as Janis lumbered to her feet. “Let’s move out of the stall and give her room to pace if she needs to.”
“Sure.” He followed her out and they leaned side by side against the front of the stall so they could observe the mare as she walked the perimeter of her enclosure.
Standing close together in this cozy barn and watching Janis as the rain came down outside was the most natural thing in the world for them to be doing. Yet stormy nights always made Astrid long to be held, and it drove her crazy to be within touching distance of the yummy Mr. Grayson. She imagined the feel of all those muscles under his blue denim shirt and barely controlled a shiver.
He’d named his ranch the Rocking G because he had a fondness for classic rock and roll. This horse honored Janis Joplin, and the stable was filled with namesakes of other famous rockers. In Astrid’s opinion, Fletch was the one who rocked.
He’d hung his Stetson on a peg outside the stall. When he was nervous, he had a habit of running his fingers through his chocolate brown hair, which only made that wavy hair sexier. No one should look this good at two in the morning. Or smell this good. Fletch’s woodsy aftershave was one of the many things about him that made her pulse race.
He possessed a killer combo of square-jawed masculinity and a heart of gold. The same passionate love of animals that had propelled her into the field of veterinary medicine had caused him to sink all his savings into a horse-breeding operation. Although he was finally turning a profit, he did so only by carefully managing his budget.
They’d become so comfortable with each other during the six months she’d tended his horses that he’d shared major decisions, such as when he’d postponed the purchase of a new truck so he could install more efficient heating in the horse barn. She treasured those long conversations, even though they stirred up inappropriate thoughts. Would he be even better at pillow talk?
But she also treasured her professional standing in the Dallas area, so she wouldn’t be sharing a pillow with gorgeous Fletch Grayson. It was hard enough for a girl to be taken seriously as a vet in Texas, even harder for someone like Astrid, the daughter of a rich family. Besides, she didn’t know if he would welcome that idea. Sometimes she imagined him looking at her with interest, but that might be wishful thinking on her part.
“One thing’s for sure,” he said. “I won’t breed her again. She deserves a rest.”
“Yes, she does.” Although he didn’t know it, Astrid could offer to invest in his ranch and eliminate most of his money problems. She constantly battled the urge to do exactly that. But giving him money would change their relationship forever, and she selfishly wanted to keep that relationship as it was, even if friendship was all she’d ever have.
Read on for a look at the third novel
In the Perfect Man series by Vicki Lewis Thompson,
Safe in His Arms
Available now from InterMix in e-book.
One minute Valerie Wolitzky was drinking margaritas with her two pals, Astrid Lindberg and Melanie Shaw, in their favorite Dallas watering hole, the Golden Spurs and Stetson. The next minute an alarm shrieked, and Val leaped from her seat, knocking over her chair and her drink. She had to get out. Now.
Panic buzzed in her ears as she charged the front door. She had to beat the mob of people. If she didn’t, she’d be trapped . . . just like before.
Wham! She hit a solid wall of muscle and staggered back. A cowboy blocked her way. She shoved him hard. “Let me out!”
He grabbed her shoulders. “Hold on there, ma’am. What’s the problem?”
Was he an idiot? With adrenaline-fueled strength, she pushed him aside and barreled through the door, almost knocking down a second man right behind him. But she got out the door.
Safe! She was safe! Shaking, she leaned over and braced her hands on her knees as she gulped for air. The warm breeze of a summer night touched her wet cheeks. She swiped at them as she slowly straightened. She needed to sit down, but there was nowhere to—
“Val!” Astrid’s shout penetrated the buzzing in her ears, and she turned. Her two friends burst through the door of the bar and rushed toward her.
Relief that they were okay was followed by hot shame. She hadn’t thought of them, hadn’t even tried to save them. She’d only thought of herself.
“Omigod, Val.” Melanie, brown hair flying, reached her first and hugged her. “It’s okay. Some smoking oil set off the smoke detector in the kitchen. It’s okay. It’s okay.”
Filled with gratitude for her friend’s safety, Val hugged her back without paying much attention to what she was saying.
Astrid joined the huddle and rubbed Val’s back. “Easy, girlfriend. Take it easy. Everything’s fine.”
Gradually Valerie’s heartbeat slowed, and the grip of fear eased. She took a quivering breath and wondered why she wasn’t hearing sirens. She stepped out of Melanie’s embrace and looked around. “Where are the fire trucks?”
“There’s no fire.” Astrid continued to stroke her back. “Just a little smoke.”
“Did they evacuate the building?”
“No, sweetie.” Melanie gazed at her with compassion. “They shut off the alarm right away and came out of the kitchen to explain the problem.”
Valerie’s heart started pounding again. Dear God. “I was . . . the only one who ran out?”
Both Melanie and Astrid nodded.
“Well, except us,” Melanie added. “We took off after you.”
“Oh, no.” Val covered her face as embarrassment flooded through her, scorching her cheeks. She’d overreacted. Caused a scene. Involved her friends in her craziness. Slowly she lowered her hands and stared at them in misery. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
“Don’t worry about it.” Astrid squeezed her arm. “But, Val, it’s time to get serious about—”
“Ma’am? Are you all right?” The cowboy Valerie had smacked into when she fled now walked over to her, trailed by the other guy, who wore a business suit. They both looked worried.
Val thought of the old cliché and wished the sidewalk really would open up and swallow her. “Yes, thank you.” She wished the words didn’t sound so wobbly and uncertain.
“You don’t look all right.” The cowboy kept coming. He had a purposeful John Wayne stride, and he towered over the other man. “You’re shaking like a newborn foal. What happened in there?”
Melanie put a protective arm around Val’s shoulder. “Thanks for your concern, but she’ll be fine.”
He paused and tipped his Stetson back with his thumb. “I’m sure she will. I just . . . Was it the smoke alarm that spooked you? I heard it go off right before I got to the door.”
He seemed like a nice guy who only wanted to help. Val couldn’t fault him for that after
she’d tried to knock him down in her full-out panic mode. He must have seen the terror in her eyes. “I’m afraid I overreacted.” She cleared her throat and summoned her lawyer’s voice. “I apologize for plowing into you and yelling. That was rude.”
“No worries.” He glanced at Astrid and Melanie standing on either side of her. “I’m glad your friends are here.” He hesitated before bringing his attention back to Val.
His eyes were gray. Not a gloomy, dark sort of gray, but light, almost silver. They shone with kindness. “Listen, I don’t know you at all, and I’m probably butting in where I have no business, but I understand a little something about post-traumatic stress.” He turned to the man who’d come up behind him. “And my buddy Will wrote the book on it. Literally.” He looked at Val again. “If you need—”
“To see someone?” Val managed not to choke on the words. “I appreciate the thought, but I have that covered.” She had nothing covered because she was determined to handle the issue herself, despite what her friends thought she should do. But he didn’t have to know any of that.
Werewolf in Alaska: A Wild About You Novel Page 29
