Thirst (The Calvettis of New York 1) - Page 21

I know, before she says a word, that she’s Mabel’s sister. The resemblance is striking.

“You must be Dexie.” She tosses me a wave as she follows after Lenore’s husband. “I’m Rhoda. Give us two minutes and we’ll get started.”

Two minutes? I hope to hell that’s enough time to rip this sandal off my foot.

I wait until Rhoda is out of view before I grip both hands around the strap of my sandal and pull.

“Dammit,” I whisper. “Get off of my foot.”

I give it another good, strong yank but it doesn’t budge.

I sigh in frustration. “I can’t believe this is happening to me.”

“I was about to say the same thing.” The deep seductive sound of a male voice startles me. “Hello, neighbor.”

Chapter 14

Dexie

I stare up at the man who just spoke to me.

It’s not just any man. It’s him.

My scorching hot neighbor is standing less than two feet away smiling down at me.

Wow. He’s even more gorgeous when two plates of glass aren’t separating us.

“Can I help?” He tilts his chin down.

The five-o-clock shadow covering his jaw catches my eye. How can he be just as sexy completely dressed in this waiting room as he is late at night when he has a towel wrapped around his waist?

“I can help with the shoe,” he says before I can form a coherent response to his question.

He’s on one knee in front of me in an instant.

“I...” my voice trails when his hand brushes against the strap that’s biting into my ankle.

“May I?” he asks, his ocean blue eyes locking with mine.

When I was a child, I’d wish for eyes the color of his, instead of the shade of brown that I was born with.

I nod.

Goose bumps pebble my skin the instant his fingertips brush against my ankle. There’s no way he doesn’t notice the shiver that races through me as he glides his hand over the back of my leg.

“This might pinch,” he says smoothly. “You’ll feel it tighten for a second before it releases.”

I’ve imagined his voice in my mind but never did it sound this raspy or this warm.

I watch as his long fingers slide the strap loose, the tightening of the leather finally giving way to relief as he slips the sandal from my foot.

“How’s that?” He looks back up at me, a smile ghosting his full lips.

“Better,” I mutter under my breath, my mouth still bone dry, my pulse racing.

I break his gaze. The intensity is too much. Being this close to him is making my head spin.

“Are you all right?” Concern blankets his tone. “You look flush.”

Tags: Deborah Bladon The Calvettis of New York Romance
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