Turbulent Intentions(20)

It wasn’t until he was right in front of her that the connection clicked.

Flashes of a moonlit beach—a hot, steamy shower, and even hotter kisses—large, strong hands tracing her body . . .

Reaching for the missing necklace again, she fought the dizziness she suddenly felt. She knew this man, though he was someone she’d never thought she’d see again. And now she knew his name, or at least his last name. Her body trembled as she faced him. It had been years, six years to be exact, and he’d changed, but the instant ache between her thighs was a quick reminder that her body hadn’t forgotten him.

Closing her eyes for a moment, she allowed herself to remember that night, remember every moment of it with him expertly caressing every inch of her, making her cry out over and over again. She’d done things with this man she’d never done before, and certainly hadn’t done since.

How did one follow up with another man after being with someone like Green Eyes? He’d been incredible, and she hadn’t once felt the same reaction with another man.

Her cheeks flaming, Stormy looked at Green Eyes and waited for recognition to light his eyes. But there was nothing there except a slight tilt to his head and definite interest in his expression.

He had no clue who she was.

Damn! She hadn’t thought she was quite that forgettable, even if it had been six years earlier and she’d grown more curves and lost that youthful glow only a twenty-year-old could have. Well, her hair was now its naturally dark brown color again, too . . .

Still, her ego took a nosedive.

But did she really want him to know who she was? Would he expect a repeat performance? Would that be so bad? Questions with no answers flooded her mind as she stood there unable to speak.

“Did you hear me?” Green Eyes asked.

“What? No. I’m sorry,” Stormy replied. He must have placed an order with her, and she hadn’t processed a single thing that had come out of his mouth.

“I want an Americano, four shots with room for cream.”

Her brain was still muddled and she just stared at him blankly. Dammit. With all the blood rushing through her brain, she couldn’t quite grasp what he was asking.

“I want an Americano with four shots and room for cream,” he repeated, very slowly now. “I’ve been gone a while, but I would hope the servers here could still actually serve coffee.”

“Yes, sorry, I’ll get that right away.”

She turned and knocked down the container of half-and-half, cream spilling all over her leg and the floor. Silence echoed off the walls for several moments until he spoke again.

“Have a rough night?” he asked with a laugh.

She shuddered. She was really thrown off her game right now, and though it frustrated her, she was fighting tears. “Excuse me?”

“Come on, doll. I know women, and obviously you’re having a rough day, maybe not getting enough sleep. Maybe you should dump the man who’s giving you those circles under your eyes and let a real man make sure you’re resting like a baby,” he boldly told her, then added insult to injury when he winked.

She was mortified to know she’d slept with this man. Even more mortified to realize she still couldn’t regret it, even if he was acting like a typical alpha pilot who thought panties were automatically supposed to drop when he entered the room. Taking a deep breath, she decided she wasn’t going to keep acting like an A-class klutz and she was certainly going to stand up for herself, which wasn’t something easy for her to do.

“I can’t figure out if you’re hitting on me or insulting me, but either way, your behavior is unacceptable.” There. That was good, she convinced herself.

Her anger partly stemmed from him not remembering her and partly because his attitude toward her was now ruining her one Cinderella moment in time. No, she hadn’t escaped at the stroke of midnight, but she had run away, though he’d never come calling for her. Not that she wanted him to, she told herself. But still, she sort of liked living with the fantasy of a lover lost.

He was no longer lost, dammit!

“I would never insult a beautiful woman,” he told her as he leaned a little closer across the counter. “However, I could give you a good night’s rest.”

Stormy didn’t know what to be more offended about, but she most certainly was horrified he would speak to her this way. Seriously, how could he not have even the smallest inkling of recognition?

Best sex in his life? Apparently not.

Her pride was wounded, and she was hurt, which made her words sharper than she normally ever spoke.

“You will never give me anything, especially not at night. I don’t go for coarse, primitive men like you,” she said, a bit too loudly in her attempt at being stern, making several heads turn in their direction. “I have standards.”