Chapter 5
The morning seemed to drag by as Grace went through the usual round of clients. No matter how hard she tried to focus on them and their problems, she just couldn't quite succeed.
Over and over, she kept seeing deep, tawny skin and searing blue eyes.
And that smile...
How she wished Julian had never smiled at her. His smile could definitely be her undoing.
"... so then I said, Dave, look, if you want to borrow my clothes, fine. But leave off my expensive designer dresses 'cause when you look better in them than I do, then I just want to give them to the Salvation Army. So, was I right, Doc?"
Grace looked up from her pad where she was doodling pictures of stick men holding spears.
"What, Rachel?" she asked the patient who sat in the armchair across from her.
Rachel was an elegantly dressed photographer. "Was I right to tell Dave to leave off my clothes? I mean, damn, it's pretty bad when your boyfriend looks better in your clothes than you do, right?"
Grace nodded. "Absolutely. They're your clothes and you shouldn't have to lock them up."
"See, I knew it! That's what I told him. But does he listen? No. He can call himself Davida all he wants to, and tell me he's a woman in a man's body, but when it comes down to it all, he still listens to me like my ex-husband did. I swear..."
Grace inadvertently checked her watch again. Her hour with Rachel was almost up.
"You know, Rachel," she said, cutting her patient off before Rachel could begin her routine spiel about men and their annoying habits. "Perhaps we should hold on to this until our Monday session with Dave?"
Rachel nodded. "Will do. But remind me on Monday that I need to talk to you about Chico."
"Chico?"
"The Chihuahua that lives next door. I swear that dog is giving me the eye."
Grace frowned. Surely Rachel wasn't implying what she thought she was. "The eye?"
"You know. The eye. He may look like a pooch, but that dog has sex on his mind. Every time I walk by, he looks up my skirt. And you don't want to know what he did to my running shoes. The dog is a pervert."
"Okay," Grace said, cutting her off again. She was beginning to suspect there was nothing she could do for Rachel and her obsession that all males in the world were dying to possess her. "We will definitely cover the Chihuahua's infatuation with you."
"Thanks, Doc. You're the best." Rachel grabbed her bag off the floor and headed out the door.
Grace rubbed her brow as Rachel's words rang in her head. A Chihuahua? Jeez!
Poor Rachel. Surely there was some way to help that poor woman.
Then again, it would be infinitely better to have a Chihuahua looking up her skirt with lust than a Greek love-slave.
"Oh, Lanie," Grace breathed, "how do I let you get me into these things?"
Before she could contemplate that further, her intercom buzzed.
"Yes, Lisa?"
"Your eleven o'clock canceled, and while you were seeing Ms. Thibideaux, your friend Selena Laurens called six dozen times, and I am neither exaggerating nor kidding. She left a stack of urgent messages for you to call her on her cell phone ASAP."
"Thanks, Lisa."
Picking up the phone, Grace called Selena.
"Oh, thank God." Selena spoke before Grace could say a word. "You have got to get your butt down here and take your boyfriend home. Now!"
"He's not my boyfriend, he's your-"
"Oh, you want to know what he is?" Selena asked with a note of hysteria in her voice. "He's a friggin' estrogen magnet, that's what he is. I have women mobbing my stand even as we speak. Sunshine loves it, she's sold more pottery this morning than she ever has before. I tried to get him home earlier, but I can't even make a dent in this crowd. I swear, you'd think we had a celebrity out here. I've never seen anything like it in my life. Now get your butt down here and help me!"
The phone went dead.
Grace cursed her luck. Buzzing Lisa, she told her to cancel her appointments for the rest of the day.
As soon as she reached the square, Grace saw what Selena had meant. There had to be at least twenty women surrounding Julian, and dozens more gaping at him as they passed by.
The ones closest to him were elbowing and pushing each other, trying to gain his attention.
But the most unbelievable of all were the three women who had their arms draped over him while another one took a picture.
"Oh, thank you," a woman in her mid-thirties purred to Julian as she snatched the camera out of the hands of the woman who had taken their picture.
She cradled the camera to her breast in a way meant to draw Julian's attention there, but he didn't seem the least bit interested.
"This is just so wonderful," she continued to gush. "I can't wait to get home and show this to my critique group. They'll never believe I found a real-life romance-novel cover model in the French Quarter."
Something about the rigid way he stood made Grace suspect that Julian didn't care for the attention. But to his credit, he wasn't openly rude.
Still, his smile didn't reach his eyes and it was nothing like the one he'd given her last night.
"My pleasure," he said to the women.
The giggles that erupted were deafening. Grace shook her head in disbelief. Women, get some dignity!
Then again, given Julian's face, body, and smile, she felt a little giddy every time he looked at her, too.
So who could really blame them for acting like pre-pubescent girls at a shopping-mall rock concert?
All of a sudden Julian looked past his sea of raging hormonal admirers to meet her gaze. Grace arched an amused brow at him.
Instantly, his smile vanished. His eyes focused on her like a hungry predator that had just found its next meal. "If you'll excuse me," he said, then waded through the women and headed directly toward her.
Grace gulped, noting the instant hostility of the women who frowned en masse in her direction.
But worse was the sudden, raw surge of desire that tore through her, making her heart pound out of control. And with every step he took, it increased tenfold.
"Greetings, agapeemenee," Julian said, lifting her hand up to place a kiss on the backs of her knuckles.
A heated wave of electricity danced up her spine. And before she could move, he pulled her into his arms and gave her a hot, soul-wrenching kiss.
Instinctively, she closed her eyes and savored the warmth of his mouth, his breath. The feel of his arms holding her close to a rock-hard chest. Her head reeled from it.
Oh, but the man knew how to give a kiss! Julian had a way with his lips that defied explanation.
And his body... Never had she felt anything like those lean, hard muscles flexing around her.
It was only the barely audible "hussy" one of the women sneered that broke the spell.
"Julian, please," she whispered. "There are people watching us."
"Do you think I care?"
"I do!"
He pulled his head away from hers with a low growl and set her back on her feet. It was only then she realized she'd completely surrendered her weight to him, and he had supported it without effort.
Her cheeks scalding, Grace caught the envious stares of the women as they reluctantly dispersed.
His face showing the depth of his displeasure and reluctance, Julian let go of her and stepped back.
"Finally," Selena said with a sigh. "I can almost hear again." She shook her head. "If I'd known that would work, I'd have kissed him."
Grace gave her a sideways smirk. "Well, it's your own fault."
"How do you figure?" Selena asked.
Grace indicated Julian's clothes with a wave of her hand. "Look at how he's dressed. You don't bring a Greek god out into public wearing shorts and a tank top two sizes too small. Jeez, Selena, what were you thinking?"