Sweet Seduction Shield (43 page)

"Stop that!" I reprimanded and watched in utter shock as the
branch on the potted palm next to her swatted at Sonya's hand. She
let out a choked, strangled sound, then reached forward to grasp
the base of the pot as though she thought the movement meant it was
about to fall off its stand. With two hands and a frown line
marring her usually smooth forehead, she shoved the pot back a few
centimetres, despite it not needing to be moved at all, and then
dusted her palms off on her jeans.

I was so
stunned that she hadn't realised that the plant had actually
swatted her, that I stood up too quickly. And consequently made the
chair tumble over backwards crashing into a tower of baking trays,
which all clattered to the ground in a thundering crash.

Sonya yelped.
I shushed her. Then we both started snapping at each other as
adrenaline flowed.

A noise came
from the front of shop interrupting our little sniping match, then
pushing through the swinging kitchen doors, into the chaos and
raised voices, stood Theo. Staring at Sonya who was still yelping
and now swearing something unspeakable about bossy employers and
even bossier best friends, and then his gaze turned to me, as I
bent over trying frantically to right the baking trays with little
success.

But at the
sight of Theo Peters - made to measure suit, red silk tie and
stunning hazel eyes - I promptly dropped the lot of them. The clang
of metal on tile rang out and Sonya screamed in surprise. Then
promptly stormed from the kitchen with a look of thunder on her
face directed at me. I huffed out a breath at Sonya's inability to
handle loud and disruptive situations at the best of times, and
tried to ignore Theo's piercing gaze.

"Let me help you with that, Cassandra," he said in that deep,
velvet voice of his
.

For some
reason Theo always calls me Cassandra. I don't know why, but he
does. And although I should be annoyed by it, I am endeared. My
reaction makes no sense at all. Maybe it's his slight Greek accent;
Cassandra rolling off those lush red lips not only sounds
seductive, it somehow connects right to that hidden spot between my
legs. Every time he calls me Cassandra, I threaten to pool in a
puddle of longing and desire at his feet.

"Don't be
silly," I chided. "You're a customer, you shouldn't even be back
here."

I started
stacking the trays haphazardly, tempting fate as they would surely
topple again. Theo reached over my shoulder and straightened them,
his proximity almost too much. I slipped out from under his arm and
placed several steps between us. It was one thing to verbally spar
with the man, but anything physical still made my legs turn to
jelly.

I stared up at
him for a moment, enjoying the fact that he wasn't watching me, but
instead concentrating on his task. He was the most beautiful man I
had ever seen. He simply stole my breath. Thick black hair, cut a
little too long for fashion, but somehow setting a trend of its
own. Tall, at well over six feet, with broad shoulders and long
legs. His clothing, whether dressed for work in his expensive
suits, or just in casual weekend wear, was bespoke. Definitely from
High Street, or Smith and Caughey's on Queen. If I could afford it,
I'd shop there.

His eyes were
a mesmerising hazel, hints of jade and amber in amongst a deeper
brown. He had a strong, firm jawline, with cheeks that cut sharp
lines across his face. His lashes swept down to meet them, and I
often found myself just staring at their length. There was a hollow
at the base of his neck, that when dressed in a suit and tie I
couldn't see. But on weekends, when he'd bless my store with his
presence, I saw it. I was staring at that hidden spot now, when his
attention turned back to me.

"Where have you been,
Oraia
,"
he said softly, taking a step towards me. He'd called me that
before too. I'd looked it up on-line. It was Greek for 'lovely'. An
endearment he surely used on every girl in town.

"I had an
accident," I admitted, reaching out to smooth a leaf on the potted
palm that had just caused this ruckus. The branches seemed to sway
towards me and for a moment all I could do was suck in air. It was
calming to touch them, but to see them move in a way that was not
possibly natural, made me hold my breath.

I glanced up
at Theo to see if he'd witnessed the unnaturally moving palm, but
his eyes were on me. I watched as his face slowly turned completely
white. That was saying something; Theo, being of Greek descent, had
an all-year-round tan. Those beautiful eyes also widened for a
moment and then he sucked in his own breath of air, muttering
something under his breath that decidedly sounded like a swear
word. But I couldn't be sure; I think it was Greek.

His gaze ran over my entire body, but unlike before when heat
had pooled deep down inside whenever he'd done that same move, a
chill of dread followed the path where his gaze landed. And when
his eyes came up to mine they flashed. Actually flashed a different
colour. And not any colour I'd seen on
anyone
ever before. But gold. His hazel eyes flashed
gold; pure, brilliant, shining yellow-gold.

He shook his
head once, hands fisted at his sides, and then spun on his heel and
stormed through the door to the front of the shop. I followed
hurriedly behind him, wanting to ask him what was wrong. But by the
time I made it to the footpath, he was gone.

And all that
met me was a wash of heat across my body, as though a fire had
flared and I'd stepped too close. I jumped back inside the doors to
my deli, seeking refuge automatically amongst the plants.

Something had
upset Theo and I had a sinking feeling it wasn't anything that I'd
like.

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