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CHAPTER 1Men like that should be illegal.
The man standing across the room from Sarah Lazin was utterly, unquestionably perfect. Broad, strong shoulders, flat stomach, narrow hips, long, lean legs. His midnight-colored hair was cropped short around his smooth neck and perfectly shaped ears, but left longer on top so the errant pieces fell across his forehead to brush eyes a pure light hazel, like amber touched with green, contrasting sharply with the brows the same inky shade as his hair. His strong, firm jaw and sensuous lips looked as though they could bring a woman to her knees with one kiss.
Some other woman, maybe. Handsome men were like bargain basement grab bags. They came in attractive packages that promised an exciting surprise inside, but once you got them home, all you ended up with was a bunch of junk. He'd spout words as pretty as his face until a better prospect came along, just like her last boyfriend had done. Though it had been over for two years, the memory still stung enough to make her rattle the ice cubes in her glass. William Darcy had told her he'd only dated her to do her a favor. He'd left her for a woman who looked like she'd been built from the Everyman's Dream catalog.
No, Sarah had been there, done that, didn't need to do it again. Men who looked like that were great as eye-candy, but anything beyond that, she could do without. Unfortunately, he'd caught her staring. With a slight smile playing about his incredible mouth, he headed toward her. Now she'd done it.
It's all fun and games until someone catches your eye.
"Excuse me, but I couldn't help noticing you from across the room," theobject of her attention said.
His voice, low but not rumbling, smooth like silk, went straight to the pit of her stomach, where it took a sharp turn south. Satin sheets and candlelight, she had time to think before he spoke again and saved her from her own long-ignored and petulant libido.
"Have we met before?"
That mouth and those eyes might be thigh-opening, but his opening line left her flatter than day-old beer. In a way, it was a relief. A convenient buffer against his unbelievable face and perfect body.
"I don't think so."
"I'm sure I've seen you before. I'm pretty good with faces," he insisted.
"Me, too, and I'm sure I would have remembered yours." Distracted by the sight of his mouth moving, she spoke before she knew it. Her cheeks heated as she realized what she'd said. Of all the idiotic replies! Not that he seemed to mind or even notice. Then again, a man who looked like he did must surely be used to women drooling and fawning all over him.
He smiled and stuck out his hand. "Alex Caine."
"Sarah Lazin." She allowed him to capture her hand with his for a moment. His fingers were warm.
The silk of her dress began to rub her in all the right places. Sarah shifted, and the cloth whispered first on her stocking-clad legs, then higher up, against the bare skin of her thighs. Damn her laziness for not buying more pantyhose. The garter belt and stockings she'd thrown on earlier because she had no pantyhose without runs had suddenly started to seduce her. She forced herself to stand still, even though the pressure of his fingers on hers still made her want to squirm.
"Sarah." Alex mouthed her name as though tasting it. "I had a goldfish named Sarah once."
He'd managed to tease a smile from her. "I was named after my great-grandmother. I don't believe she ever had a goldfish."
They stared in silence for a few minutes, until Alex gestured at the crowded room. "Quite the party."
Sarah nodded. "It certainly is."
Her sister's paintings always drew large crowds. Rivka Delaney had won Best Local Artist in the Capital Magazine Best Of Central PA Contest over other, more prominent Pennsylvania artists for two years in a row. Tonight's theme centered around Rivka's latest project. Teasingly called "The X-Men," after a popular comic book series her husband adored, Rivka had done twenty portraits of local men: businessmen, doctors, accountants, cashiers at the local grocery store, the janitor from her building. Though they came from many different backgrounds, Rivka had somehow looked at each of them and found something--an expression, a way of standing--that made even the ones who were not "classically" handsome look like models. It was Rivka's gift. She had a way of finding whatever beauty the subject had inside and bringing it to the canvas.
"I love Rivka Delaney's work." Alex pointed at the piece directly behind them and sipped from his drink. "I have some of her prints at my house. I'd love to have an original, but they're hard to come by."
Sarah watched the way his smooth throat worked with every swallow, and her own mouth went a little dry. Pretty face, she reminded herself sternly. Bargain basement junk.
"Rivka doesn't like letting go of her paintings."
"You know her?"
Sarah glanced over her shoulder toward the knot of people surrounding her flamboyant sister. "I guess you could say I've followed her career since she started."
He gave her that stunning grin again. "Lots of people here tonight."
"Yes."
"You're a woman of few words, aren't you?"
It's because I want to use my mouth for other things than talking, Sarah thought and gave herself a mental shake. This was dangerous ground. It had been a long time since a man had affected her this way, but she knew all too well the end results. She didn't answer, just gave him a raised eyebrow that made him laugh. He tipped his head back so she could see the smooth motion of his Adam's apple as it bobbed in his throat.
Oh, he's perfection. Absolute, sheer, unadulterated perfection.
"Listen." Alex leaned in closer to her. "Crowds drive me bonkers. How about we go someplace quiet and have a cup of coffee? We can talk about Rivka's work."
He'd done it again. The cheesy pick-up line, meant to melt her like butter. Sarah supposed it worked on most women, him being the beautiful specimen of manhood that he was and all, but she wasn't most women. She breathed deep, grateful to have resisted his siren song.
"I don't drink coffee."
"Brrrr." The curve of his smile didn't affect her so much this time. "Did it just get colder in here or is it me?"
"Look." Sarah attempted to soften her comment. "I'm sure you're not used to being turned down. It's just that--"
"What's that supposed to mean?" His full lips thinned as his smile vanished completely. "I'm not used to being turned down?"
Sarah tilted her chin, knowing she'd put her foot in something, but not willing to admit what. "Men like you aren't used to having women tell them no."
"Men like me?"
Heat flared higher in her cheeks.
"I meant men who look like you." She paused and gestured toward the painting on the wall behind them. "X Men."
His hazel gaze flickered, unreadable. "Is that what you think?"
The heat in her cheeks deepened. "Haven't you ever looked in a mirror?"
"Haven't you?"
Sarah gave a short, sharp laugh. "I know what I look like."
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