Colby had changed that, too.
It wasn't Lil's fault that she'd caught the flu. Half the city seemed to be either recovering from it or succumbing to it. More importantly, it had been a long time since Lil had actually requested help, rather than merely grudgingly accepting it. Abby didn't want to put too much significance on such a miniscule connection, but she couldn't shake the hope that things could get better between them.
Her first impression of him as he stood in the entrance, unaware of her existence, was that he looked more tired than a man of his age should. Dark circles were evident even against his olive complexion. His expensive suit did nothing to conceal the slump of his wide shoulders. According to Lil, he'd paid to have the brownstone cleaned on a weekly basis, but hadn't actually been there in over a decade. Something had brought him back and whatever it was, it had steamrolled right over him.
He looked up and through her as he crossed the foyer. "You can go now."
She considered following his weary command, but something held her immobile.
"Are you deaf? I said you can leave. Finish whatever you're doing tomorrow."
Mr. Armani sounded like an over-tired child, although she was fairly certain that he wouldn't appreciate the comparison. The wisest choice of action would have been to do as he said and leave before he had a chance to question her on her attire, but she couldn't.
He didn't look like someone who should be alone.
Was she simply projecting? Her friends often accused her of seeing good where there was none, but that was a hazard of her job. To be an effective middle school teacher, one had to see beyond the bravado. Abby taught English to non-native speakers, so she was often employed in the toughest schools in the city. She was used to defusing misdirected anger. Profanity was a cry for help. Harsh words often hid fear. Her patience paid off. Students returned, year after year, to thank her for believing in them. For some, she knew she'd been the only one who had. But this wasn't her classroom and, in reality, she had no idea who this man was.
She could almost hear Lil's voice telling her that some things were simply not her business and she'd be right. This man wouldn't welcome her nurturing any more than her sister did, but that didn't stop Abby's heart from going out to him.
She put the sheets on a table on one side of the hallway and said, "There are fresh towels upstairs. Why don't you go take a shower and I'll get some basic groceries from the corner store for you."
His back straightened and she caught her breath, reeling from the full impact of his attention. God, he's beautiful. His dark gray eyes raked over her, flashing with irritation and then something else. He cut the distance between them in a few short strides. A hint of alcohol reached her as he stopped mere inches from her. She tipped her head back to look up at him.
"Did Jake send you?" he asked as he assessed her. "You don't look like a model."
She blinked a few times in surprise as some of her sympathy for him faded. "And you don't smell like a man who should be wearing an Armani, but I wasn't going to mention it," she answered in a huff.
Her words stirred something in him; his shoulders squared and his eyes narrowed. This was a man who was not accustomed to people speaking back to him, but if he was trying to intimidate her, his nearness was creating the entirely wrong reaction in her body. Even in his rumpled suit, or maybe because of it, he was the sexiest man she'd ever seen in person. Men like this existed only on the large screen or in novels. She wanted to reach up and run a hand over the rough stubble on his cheek.
"I didn't say you were unattractive," he growled. "You're just not reed thin like the women I'm used to."
That's it. She put her hands on her hips and raised her eyebrows in a silent challenge.
Time suspended as their standoff continued. His look of annoyance was steeped with an expectation that she should try to appease him in some way. She simply met his glare with her own, giving him time to replay his choice of words in his mind. He looked away first, a slight flush reddening his neck.
"Ok, that came out wrong." He ran a frustrated hand through his thick black hair, leaving it slightly awry and sexier … if that were even possible. He was already a twelve or thirteen on her one to ten scale, even after she deducted a few points for lack of social skills. A glint of fascination lit his dark eyes as something occurred to him. "Did you just tell me that I stink?"
There was nothing tired about the way he leaned down until their lips almost touched. The scent of him mixed with the dash of liquor and the combination was heady. He was all male, untamed and interested in more than her answer to his question. No man had ever looked at her with such intensity. His sexual energy demanded a response that her body seemed all too willing to deliver.