It couldn't be possible.
“N-nothing really,” I stuttered, my breath coming out in a shudder. “It's sort of an inside joke about my friends inside.”
“Ah. A joke.” The blond man moved to stand close enough to me so that our arms were touching. I'd obviously had too much wine to drink, since I could have sworn there was some sort of spark that passed between us when our skin brushed against each other. I absently rubbed my fingers over my arm, wondering if I'd finally lost my mind or if this was just another dream that I'd be waking up from soon.
Let's face it, men that looked like he did just didn't just appear on a beach and approach me every day. In fact, the only time I'd ever seen a man that looked like him was in my dreams. I could feel my heart start to race when I started to notice the similarities between him and my fantasy man. They shared the same blond hair and chiseled face with skin that almost glowed iridescently. He was almost too perfect to be real, a work of impossible masculine beauty.
I was way out of my league with him. Hell, we weren't even in the same ballpark.
Unsure how to proceed, I lowered my shield to try to see his future or feel his emotions and gasped when I couldn't do either. He was a void, his presence a gentle hum in my mind. The hair raised on the back of my neck as my brain worked overtime trying to figure out why I couldn't read him.
His deep voice brought me out of my thoughts as he extended his large hand to me, inclining his head slightly. “I should introduce myself. I am Stefan Lifsten. And you are?”
Hesitantly I placed my much smaller hand in his and immediately noticed the cool, silky hardness of his skin. I was startled at the electricity that jolted between us when his large hand enveloped mine. Shivers of excitement shot through my body and a slow, long forgotten burn ignited between my legs. I wasn't sure if it was a good sign that the simple touch of his hand made my panties want to disappear into the night.
“I'm Josephine Anderson. Everyone calls me Josie but you can call me whatever you want.....” I said nervously, my cheeks burning with embarrassment at my mindless chatter. I could now add verbal diarrhea to my mental checklist of the many reasons why I knew this man was out of my league.
“Josephine. It is my pleasure to meet you.” Stefan lowered his mouth to my hand and brushed it lightly with his lips. My skin throbbed where his mouth had touched my skin, a sensation I'd never experienced before. I drew in a shaky breath and glanced in the direction of the bar. I was trying to focus on the faint sounds of music to calm down before I made a bigger idiot out of myself.
“Would you like go inside and dance with me, Josephine?” Stefan asked. A beautiful smile slowly broke across his face, causing fine lines to crinkle around his eyes.
Stunned into silence by his question, my lips parted in surprise as I stared back at him. Dance?!? He wants to dance with me? Would my poor body be able to handle it if I was wrapped in his arms, or would I just spontaneously combust from the sensation? I didn't know for sure, but it was a chance I was willing to take.
“Sure.” I nodded anxiously. Inwardly groaning at my lack of conversational skills, his compelling presence had reduced me to either nervous babbling or to one answer responses.
"Shall we go?" Stefan asked. He placed his large hand on my lower back and gently nudged me towards the steps that led back into the bar. We slowly climbed them together, the music getting louder as we approached the patio. He opened the door for me and I blinked as we reentered the darkened bar area, my eyes taking a moment to adjust to the light after the darkness of the beach.
"Let me get you a drink before I take you up on the dance you promised me," Stefan said and waggled his eyebrows. He led me towards the bar and pulled out a stool for me. "What would you like?"
A few dirty thoughts of what I'd like to do to him crossed my mind as I sat down, swiveling on the stool to face him. "A glass of red wine sounds great."
When he stepped away and motioned for the bartender, I was finally able to get a good look at him as he leaned across the bar to order my drink. His hair was golden blond and thick with long layers that swept across his forehead. He had high cheekbones and his brows arched over expressive sea blue eyes. His square jaw was strong with a slight cleft in his chin. The black t-shirt he was wearing strained tightly against his broad chest, hugging the lean muscles of his long arms. His faded jeans rode low on his narrow hips and clung to his long, powerful legs.
I watched as he slowly turned and sauntered back towards me, a wry grin on his face. He placed my glass of wine in front of me and sat down. His large frame made the bar stool look much too small and his long legs stretched to brush against mine. Swallowing the groan that threatened to escape, I gingerly picked up the glass and took a large drink of wine.