After a hot, soothing shower to wash the stench of club smoke out of my hair, I take a long look at myself in the vanity mirror. I don’t look magical. And there’s nothing enchanting about me. Almond-shaped hazel eyes stare back at me, puzzled, searching for answers.
What am I?
I exhale loudly and commence to combing out my long dark locks. I’m more confused about my identity than ever.
I retreat to my room to pick out my outfit. One of the many downfalls of working at a generic retail clothing store is wearing their merchandise like walking, talking billboards. Luckily I get a pretty sizeable discount and most of the clothes are bearable. I slip on a pair of jeans, a tee, and flats. Time to blend in with the common mortals!
Work is as dull and mundane as ever. I fetch sizes and ring up purchases in my usual robotic, yet painstakingly polite manner. By 7pm, I am in desperate need of a coffee and trot down to Starbucks during my break.
Sitting down in a comfy chair with my favorite latte and a muffin, I pick up a magazine that someone has left behind. It’s a racy women’s magazine, the cover boasting the ‘Top 12 Oral Tricks That Will Make Your Man Melt.’ I roll my eyes and reluctantly open it up, trying to distract my mind from the day’s revelations.
After a few minutes of mindless distraction, I suddenly get a feeling of unease. A shiver runs down my spine and the thin hair on my arms stand at attention. A gust of cold air sweeps through the shop, causing me to tremble involuntarily. And my hand…it’s tingling again. Tiny prickles like a thousand miniature icicles assault the same spot where the most beautiful lips embraced it less than 24 hours ago. I put the magazine down and go to grab my warm coffee in hopes to dispel the sudden chill. Only then do I realize that I am being watched by a familiar, mesmerizing pair of ice blue eyes.
Dorian.
Chapter Four
He’s sitting across the small shop in a large leather chair, just a few yards away. Holy shit! What the hell is he doing here? As if my shocked expression was an unspoken invitation, he stands gracefully and strolls over to my table, standing directly across from me. I realize I’ve been holding my breath since I spotted him and will myself to let it out slowly. This man will not unravel me again!
“Gabriella,” his silky baritone croons, looking down at my dumbfounded expression. “How lovely to see you again.” He is perfectly pleasant yet he seems indifferent.
I haven’t muttered a single word to this man, in fear that my speech would be incomprehensible. He’s even more gorgeous now that I see him in the light, noticing that his skin tone is more olive than alabaster. His eyes literally glitter behind long dark lashes and his black hair is perfectly disheveled. Oh, what I wouldn’t give to run my fingers through his locks, to his shoulders, down his taut back… Chill out, Gabs! Enough of being star-struck; it’s time to redeem myself from the night before.
I gather my resolve and muster every ounce of confidence within me. “Hello, Dorian,” I say coolly. There, that wasn’t so bad. “Please, sit.”
“She speaks,” he whispers, smiling.
Great, of course he noticed. But I don’t have time to dwell on his perception; I am rendered utterly senseless at the sight of his stunning smile. He holds it for just a beat as he takes the opposing chair then he’s back to mystery and pleasantries.
“I was hoping I would see you again.”
“Why?” I ask a bit too hastily, my voice sounding unnaturally high. I take a sip of my warm brew in an attempt to swallow my giddiness.
“I’m new here. You seem like a friendly face. Those are so very rare these days,” he replies without missing a beat. Even the most innocent of explanations sound like sexual innuendos falling from his lips, bathed in his deep voice.
His explanation would be feeble, and frankly, creepy from any other guy but all I feel is the warm flush of my cheeks and a deep ache from below. I look down to recover and mentally chastise myself for being so easily roused.
“Do I?” I ask looking up at him through my long lashes. What the hell has gotten into me? I don’t play coy very well.
“Oh yes, most definitely. Very friendly,” he enunciates seductively.
Ok, enough of this BS! I’m a melting pile of slush over here. “Ok, Dorian, let’s be honest. You don’t know me from Eve. Why are you really here?” I ask, satisfied with myself. I can tell my candor has caught him off guard and his eyebrows rise in surprise.
“I simply want to get to know you better. You seem fascinating,” he recovers evenly.
“I am anything but fascinating. I can assure you that.” Well… that used to be true.