“Don’t mention it.” The man came closer, his spiced cologne teasing her senses. Man, he smelled good…and familiar. Where had she smelled that cologne before? He reached out and rested a hand on her shoulder. He squeezed it reassuringly, but it didn’t reassure her. Something about him made her whole body just kind of…tingle. “Are you all right, ma’am?”
No. She wasn’t. “Yes. I am.” Princesses never fall apart in public. She forced herself to stand straight. To act fine. She maintained the fake American accent, because despite this man’s heroic actions, she didn’t know him at all. “Thank you, again.”
“You’re welcome.” He paused, his fingers hesitating on her skin before he let go of her. “I’ll stay with you until the lights come back on, or until your boyfriend comes out. My name’s Gordon, by the way.”
Gordon. She’d never heard that name before. It sounded as unique as her intense reaction to this man was. “You don’t have to stay with me,” she said, deliberately avoiding giving the man her name in return. “I’ll be okay on my own.”
Safer, too.
Leaning against the wall directly next to her, he pointed out, “He could come back.”
His chest brushed against her shoulder, making her shiver. There was something about this man that awoke things that she hadn’t felt in years. And he was right. That man could come back. She might not know Gordon, but she knew the man who’d left was a lot worse than him. And why did he sound so darn familiar?
“I’ll be fine. Really.”
“I know.” He reached out and squeezed her hand. The innocent touch burned her. She bit down on her lip, biting back a groan. At a hand touch. Geez. “But I’d feel better if you weren’t alone. Let me stay with you. I’ll be yours until you’re done with me,” he said, his tone teasing.
Her heart stammered in her chest at his touch, making her think of things. Bad, dirty things. Things princesses shouldn’t think about with strangers. But he wasn’t a stranger, was he? She knew that voice.
He was the man from the coffee shop. Why was he here, at the same place as her twice in one day? For the most part, she didn’t believe in coincidences. If he was here, it had to be for a reason—be it good or evil. She needed to play it cool until she figured out which one. “O-Okay. Thank you, Gordon.”
“Don’t mention it.” He still didn’t drop her hand. “Do I know you? You sound familiar.”
“Nope, not at all.” She forced a laugh. “I’d remember your name.”
“Yeah. Okay.” He sounded less than convinced. “Hey, did you see any other women come through here? Short, blonde chick with green eyes? Pretty little thing?”
Oh my God. Was he looking for her? Figures. The first man to awaken her lady parts was a creepy stalker…or worse. “There’s one in the bathroom, but I don’t know if she’s a ‘pretty little thing’ or not.”
“Ah.” Gordon dropped her hand and walked past her, then knocked on the door. His arm brushed hers again, and she had the same intense reaction. He tensed, as if maybe he felt it, too, but then he called out, “Excuse me? Is there an Isabelle in there?”
She stiffened. He knew her name? Bonkers. This really wasn’t looking good. “Isabelle,” she said with as much fake confusion as she could muster up. “Who is that?”
He didn’t answer her.
“Uhh…” A woman called out through the door. “No Isabelle in here. It’s just me. But the lights went out in here. I can’t see anything.”
“The power is out in the whole restaurant, ma’am.” The man reached out and grabbed Isabelle’s hand, his fingers firm on hers, as if he’d just remembered she stood there and wanted to keep an eye on her. “Need help coming out safely? I’ve got another woman out here, too, so it’s not just me.”
Silence, then, “No, I’ll just wait in here. I’m…I’m not decent. I was changing.”
“All right.” He sighed, turning away from the door, but didn’t let go of her hand. She glanced down at it, even though she couldn’t see a thing. His hand felt a lot bigger than hers. Strong. Capable. Used to hard work. Nice. Too bad she didn’t know if he was a criminal or not. “I’ve got to find Isabelle. Come with me?”
She took a deep breath. “Your Isabelle. Is she a foreigner?”
“Yes.” He stopped walking and grabbed her other hand. Her stomach tightened into a knot. “Did you see her walk by? I need to find her.”
“Yeah. I-I might have seen her. Who is she to you?”
He ignored her question. “Where did she go?”
“Um…” Isabelle hesitated. “Why are you looking for her?”
“I’m her brother,” he said irritably, not even hesitating over the lie. “She’ll be scared without me. Can you come with me until your boyfriend comes to keep you safe?”
That was a lie. A big, fat lie. She didn’t have a brother.
Of course, she didn’t have a boyfriend, either, but that had been her lie. She’d end up marrying for an alliance instead of love, so what was the point in pretending otherwise? As a matter of fact, that’s why she was here. To meet her intended fiancé on neutral ground. He’d been in America for a year now because he’d been working on some highly important, exclusive agreement with a manufacturer here in Maine, and was due to come home soon. Her family wanted her to marry him.