Beyond Bliss (2 page)

Dark, intense gray eyes pierced into her, and she forgot how to breathe.

Mr. Yellow Tourist stopped in his tracks, obviously intercepted by this new stranger. "Actually, no, it's not. You're welcome to sit there if you like," she finished casually.

At least she thought so.  For all she knew, she sounded like a desperate tween at a Justin Beiber concert.

In an effort to exude a persona of calm, cool, and collected, Sophie turned back to her wine.

Damn it, why couldn't she have been flirtatious?

The man who sat next to her could have been Mr. Yellow Tourist, and instead, one of the most handsome men she'd ever seen now occupied the stool next to her. Clearly a businessman, he wore a suit that probably cost more than a month of her rent, and she was pretty sure the tie loosened around his neck was Ferragamo.

Even if he hadn't worn a suit, his presence screamed confidence...and hot sex.

She hadn't looked at his face since she'd first swerved around, but it remained seared in her memory. He had a straight nose set above lips that she could only describe as perfect—not too full or too thin. Dark hair framed his face perfectly, although the slightly shaggy length suggested he’d missed a recent haircut. An angular, rugged jawline completed the picture of masculine beauty.

If his jaw had been just a touch softer, he’d have pretty boy good looks—his face was
that
perfect.

Instead, he was all man.

A man she couldn't and wouldn't dare to proposition.

He could be gay, or he could be married.  He could have a sexually transmitted infection, or maybe he was a member of the clergy.

Priests drank, right?

And even if he
was
available and straight, a man who looked like him probably had orgies with flocks of models every night. 

Sophie Harlow knew she hadn’t been hit by the ugly branch, but she was definitely not a model.

Nor was she one to share or engage in orgies.

Convinced that her plans for the entire evening had been a bad idea, she resigned herself to picking up a bottle of wine and watching a movie for the night—at home. She tried to get the attention of the bartender again, sighing once more.

"Long day?" he queried.

Oh my God, he's talking.

Anxious that she would say something stupid if she dared to look at him or give him a lengthy response, she muttered a curt "yes" before she continued her efforts to flag the bartender down, avoiding eye contact with the handsome stranger at all costs.

"If I'm bothering you, I can move," he offered graciously.

His offer caught her off guard, but she had the distinct feeling that he was laughing at her.

Get a grip
.

She gave up trying to get the bartender's attention and finally turned to look at him.

"You don't have to leave," she said, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, I just decided to leave some time ago, and I've been trying to get her attention."

He smiled in return and raised his hand. The bartender finally looked over, she noticed angrily, while trying to calm her raging hormones.

That smile was lethal.

The pretty blonde bartender sauntered over, her eyes lighting up as she spotted the handsome male customer. She batted heavily made-up eyes at him and smiled.

"What can I get you?" she purred, perching on her side of the bar and leaning over just enough to display the right amount of cleavage.

He seemed immune to it and motioned to Sophie. "The lady needs her check, and I'd like a Laphroaig, neat."

She smiled invitingly. "Sure thing, handsome."

Sophie observed the interaction, silently berating herself.

Why can't I flirt like that?

There was no reason to feel intimidated. If the Britney Spears wanna-be behind the bar could do it, so could she. She hastily pulled her phone from her bag, pretending to check her text messages. The bartender brought over her check and the stranger's scotch.

Sophie smiled sweetly at the woman across the bar. "Actually, my friend is late, so I can stay for one more. I'd like another glass of Malbec, please."

The blonde's eyes narrowed at her. "Sure."

There, she'd done it!

She heard Liz's voice in her head …

Baby steps, Sophie, baby steps.

She'd given just enough detail so the man sitting next to her wouldn't think that she was staying just for him. She settled back on the stool and turned a friendly smile to her neighbor. "Thanks for getting her attention."

"My pleasure." His voice was deep and velvety, but his deep gray eyes gleamed back at her.

With his gaze trained on her as if she was the only woman in the room, her skin tingled. He wasn’t even touching her, but she found herself spell-bound, tumbling into an abyss of the unknown. Fighting hard not to let his effect on her show, she extended her hand. "I'm Sophie."

And when he brought her hand to his lips and brushed a light kiss over her skin, she felt as though a small piece of her died.

Or maybe it just transferred from her soul into his.

She shook her head, trying to rid her mind of the crazy path  it was headed down when he winked at her.

"You can call me Lucas."

Chapter Two

This was a horrible fucking idea.

Despite the alarms ringing loud and clear in his head, he made his way to the restaurant across the street from the hotel on Friday evening.

Even though he'd overheard her conversation with her friend, he'd only decided that morning that he would show up.

If sweet Sophie Harlow was going to have casual sex with a stranger, he’d be damned if anyone else was going to have the pleasure of being said stranger.

He wondered if this was an invasion of privacy—or even worse, stalking. 

Because you have to know the person you're stalking.

That night, even before he’d caught a glimpse of her face—from the soft lilt of her voice, her beautiful hair, and her frame, he fucking knew she was the one.

And then he saw
her
.

He’d tried telling himself it was just boredom and curiosity.

That the next few years in New York promised nothing but ruthless business and the same tiresome set who considered themselves "society."

But then he stepped through the entryway to the restaurant's bar and grinned.

Apparently little miss Born-Again Virgin was a creature of habit.

She sat in the same stool as she had a week ago, but he frowned when he sensed something was amiss. He couldn’t see her face because she was preoccupied with wildly waving her hand towards the petite blonde bartender who looked in every direction except the flailing hand. She turned towards him for a flash of a second, eyes as wide as a deer in the headlights before she turned back and resumed her efforts to get the bartender to notice her.

Shit.

Had she seen him last Friday night? He was certain she hadn't, because he'd left the bar while she was still talking to her friend, and they'd never made eye contact. He turned his head slightly to his right and noticed a heavyset man in a yellow shirt ambling towards her.

He chuckled.

If he were in her place, he would have just walked out. It was noble that she was trying to pay her check, even at the risk of Big Bird swooping in on her. He mentally patted himself on the back as he neatly cut into the other man's path.

"Is this seat taken?"

She started to respond and turned to face him with an apologetic smile. He saw her big brown eyes widen when she realized he wasn't Big Bird. They were framed with gently arched eyebrows and inky black lashes that fluttered down as her cheeks flamed red. Her small, but full pink mouth had fallen into a tiny "o" as she took a short breath and told him he was welcome to the seat.

And like a gong, it sounded once more, reverberating through his head.

My dream girl.

He sat thoughtfully, observing her as she resumed trying to get the bartender to come over.

"Long day?"

She turned back to him with a slightly incredulous look on her face. "Yes," she got out.

In an effort to put her at ease, he offered to move. He wondered at the myriad of expressions that crossed her face, but eventually she relaxed.

Two minutes later, it appeared she'd changed her mind about leaving and as the frowning bartender poured her a new glass of wine, she smiled shyly at him and stuck out her hand. "I'm Sophie."

This was definitely not a good idea.

*****

Liz would be so proud of her.

A few hours had passed since Lucas sat down next to her. They were now nibbling on appetizers, and she was on her fourth glass of wine.

Taking another sip of wine, she surveyed him over the rim of her glass. He was the perfect candidate to help her get back on the proverbial horse.  So far, everything that she'd learned about him seemed to fit her criteria. He'd shared that he was in town for work, staying at the W Hotel across the street.

Definitely no chance of running into him awkwardly, or even worse—waiting up for his call.

Hit and run! Or was it, wham, bam, thank you ma'am? Damn it, what was the idiom you were supposed to use when the situation was reversed?

But then she lost all train of thought when he leaned over.  Suddenly, he was too close, invading her space.

"I would kill to know what's going through your mind right now," he whispered in her ear, his breath gently flowing over her skin.

The intimacy of their current position wasn’t not lost on her.

She couldn't place his aftershave, but his clean, masculine scent assaulted her senses. Her nerve endings were on fire, and she could feel the long-forgotten curl of warmth deep in her belly.

She’d been about to respond, when she made the mistake of looking into his eyes.

Arrested by the heat emanating from his gaze, Sophie blanked.

"Oh, nothing interesting," she croaked.

You twit. You bloody fool. Britney the bartender would have had this in the bag two hours ago. That's really all you can say? Nothing interesting? What is wrong with you?

"Are you sure?" he teased. "You looked like you were pretty deep in thought, just now."

She remained silent for a few moments, reminding herself exactly why she’d come to the bar by herself that night.

Then she placed her hand over his.

She was about to defy the female gospel, go against all the rules her friends coached her on, and rebel against all the mantras she'd read in the self-help section of Barnes & Noble.

He regarded her steadily, obviously amused.

"Look," she started out shakily, feeling a little lightheaded.

"Yes?"

"I, um, well. I haven't done anything in a really long time. I haven't done anything, and I'm not looking for anything serious." She paused mid-stream, realizing how disjointed her thoughts were. Taking a deep breath, she met his steady gray stare.

"I'm just looking for some healthy adult fun tonight. That's all. Safe fun, though! Safe, healthy adult fun." She nodded, hoping her face wasn't as red as it was hot.

There.

She'd said it.

Cards on the table.

She quickly turned away, averting her gaze from his, but it felt as if an eternity passed before he spoke.

"So—let me get this right. You just want to use me?"

He sounded shocked.

Oh fuck. I've offended him. Damn, damn, damn! 

She bit down on her lip hard, hoping that the pain from the tiny bite would counteract the embarrassing tingle that spread across her body.  It was unfortunate she couldn’t disappear into thin air.

"Sophie, look at me," he softly commanded. He placed his finger under her chin, tipping it ever so slightly so their eyes met once again.

And then she saw the amused twinkle in his eye and she felt relief.

He was just teasing, he wasn't really offended, she realized gratefully. There was something else in his eyes too, though. Deep gray orbs regarded her thoughtfully, intense in their focus.

She hadn't imagined the heat from earlier.

He moved his head towards hers, stopping only when his lips brushed her ear.  "If you want a night with me, I promise you it's one you’ll never forget.”

*****

Coffee.

Sophie lay in bed, head throbbing and throat dry. She needed coffee.

She heard a rustling in the room, and her eyes shot open.

This wasn't her room.

Shooting up in bed, the comforter fell to her waist, and she heard a low whistle from across the room.

"Nice view," Lucas commented, smiling widely as he zipped a small travel case.

Mortified, she yanked the cover up to her chin and slowly slid down into the bed, closing her eyes. He disappeared into another room, and returned, setting a glass of water and a small bottle of aspirin on the nightstand beside her.