She had expected to be in and out of the mall in under an hour. She hadn’t counted on the mayor and his campaign staff being there to draw her interest briefly. But she wasn’t hearing anything she hadn’t already heard on the six o’clock news, which she tried to catch each day while she ate dinner. She did have a few hours between jobs to eat, shower, take care of the daily chores she shared with Jan, or whatever else couldn’t wait until Sunday. Her spa job was from seven to ten at night, giving her no time for other than another quick shower and bed when she got home from it.
Brittany was just heading around the outer fringes of the crowd in the direction she needed to go for her favorite jeans shop when she sawhimand did a double-take. Bumping into the person in front of her stopped her completely and she didn’t even think to apologize, she was so amazed at the man’s height. How had she missed seeing him work his way into the center of that crowd when her eyes were always drawn to tall men? You couldn’t miss him. He stood more than a foot taller than everyone else there.
Had he been sitting down and only just stood up? There could be some chairs in the center of the crowd, she supposed. For that matter, he could be standing on one—no, she’d see a bit of waist if that were so, but all she was seeing was some incredibly wide shoulders and a golden mane of hair that reached them. And that wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy her curiosity, which was why she quickly worked her way to the sidelines, to catch a glimpse of his face.
Brittany didn’t realize that she’d been holding her breath, or was filled with anxiety, until she got that better look at the man and sighed long and loud in relief. The worry had been natural, because although her eyes were constantly drawn to tall men, they were usually disappointed as well. There had only been a few tall men over the years whom she had actually been seriously attracted to, and only one whom she had come close to losing her heart to.
Thomas Johnson she would never forget, because he’d crushed her thoroughly in proving just how hard it was going to be for her to ever find the right man. She’d really thought he was it. Her instincts had said so. She’d even been willing to go all the way with him, though she could be grateful now that their relationship hadn’t progressed that far before she found out that even he had a problem with her height. She was a good half a foot shorter than Tom, but that wasstilltoo tall for him. Damn jerk must have a thing for midgets had been her unkind thought before she’d shown him the door.
But this guy, surrounded by a sea of shorter heads, was absolutely gorgeous. And despite her immediate attraction, that sent off alarms in her head. Anyone who looked that good couldn’tbethat good. There had to be something wrong with him. Her instincts might be saying otherwise, but she could no longer trust them after Tom.
He was too young for her, that was it. Actually, it wasn’t that he looked young—it was hard to look young when you were that big. It was more that he just didn’t look old enough. Of course, age didn’t matter much these days, when people were smart enough to have figured out that compatibility and common interests were much more important for holding a relationship together.
Brittany could apply that concept to her height problem as well, if it wasn’t such a big bone of contention with her. And if she was going to hold his age against him, then she ought to find somewhere to sit down and work on getting her pulse rate back to normal, because it was definitely leaping about in maximum attraction mode at the moment.
He wasn’t listening to the mayor’s speech, he was looking around as if he were lost, or didn’t know what he was doing there. Brittany was still searching for something wrong about him when she realized that his expression had abruptly changed, was the very picture of a man about to panic. Claustrophobia big-time was about to happen.
She didn’t doubt it, nor did she think twice before she barged her way in through the crowd, grabbed his arm, and dragged him a good distance away. Her good deed for the day. It had nothing to do with the fact that shewantedto meet him, and her rescue was a perfect excuse to. But she should have read the Girl Scout manual more thoroughly, because she must have missed the section that warned that good deeds just might change your life forever.
Chapter 6
RESCUES DIDN’T ALWAYS WORK OUT AS PLANNED.SOMEof them that you thought were rescues might not even be so, might turn out to be intrusions instead.
This was Brittany’s first thought when she turned to face the man whom she assumed she had pulled out of the jaws of his own personal hell. She had expected at the very least some gratitude, but she got merely a curious once-over from him. How deflating. Not that it mattered, when she was struck dumb by her own amazement.
Up close and personal put her system into over-drive. She never thought she’d see the day when a man might be too tall for her. But goodness, seven feet tallandproperly proportioned for it!
The rest of him that she could see now, from the shoulders down, defied description. She was used to bulging muscles after three years working in a spa, but the muscles on this guy seemed natural rather than a result of strenuous exercise. Everything about him was big, and yet a right kind of big. You couldn’t create and mold that kind of physique, you had to be born with it.
He was also dressed in high fashion—heck, he was wearing what you might expect on a rock star, actually. A wraparound tunic with no buttons, belted at the waist, and a soft metallic blue in color. His black leather pants weren’t the least baggy, nor did they have visible seams that she could find.
If she didn’t know better, she’d think those pants had been poured on him, they were so skintight. Leather boots of the same color, with flat heels—no artificial height here—and just as soft-looking, went up to his knees. The fat medallion that was visible in theverydeep V of his neckline, hanging from a thick gold chain, appeared mystic in design. It was plated to look like it was made of solid gold, which of course it wouldn’t be, when it was the size of her fist in roundness and nearly as thick.
He had a fancy-looking little radio attached to his wide belt, with all kinds of buttons on it. At least she assumed it was a radio, since it had a thin cord plugged into it that ran up to one of his ears, one of those miniature earphones, she supposed.
Her thorough examination of him came to an abrupt end when he spoke to her. A deep rumble. Foreign. The accent was strong, distinctive; she just couldn’t place what country it might be from.
“Do you require something of me?” he said.
She blushed, something she strived never to do, because pink cheeks just didn’t go well with copper hair. “No,” she answered, “and maybe I should apologize. You looked like you were having a claustrophobia attack.” At his blank stare, she added, “You know, hemmed in by the crowd and panicking because you can’t find your way out—never mind. I thought I was helping, but obviously not.”
He seemed to pause to listen to the music coming out of his earphone for a moment before he replied, “Ah, you assisted me. Now I understand, and offer my gratitude.”
He smiled at her. She wondered if fainting was allowed in the mall.Good god in the morning, find something wrong with him, girl, before you fall instantly in love.
Now that he had relaxed, with that incredible smile that almost doubled his appeal, his amber eyes said he liked what he was seeing, which thrilled her to the core. But then, as looks went, she had some nice ones—aside from her height. At least, constantly being hit ondespiteher height confirmed what her mirror said.
She had big breasts, dark green eyes that could turn murky or be crystal clear, and a thick mass of bright copper hair inherited from her grandfather that no beautician could quite match in color. Some nicely defined bones went with the package for a combination that was loosely termed a knockout. She wouldn’t go that far in describing herself, but was glad she had a few nice features to make up for that last half a foot of height she could have done without.
They were staring at each other when they should be talking, or at least getting past all the standard first meeting info, like name, profession, number of children they planned to have, and so on. And since he wasn’t making the effort, that left it to her to get the ball rolling on getting acquainted, not something she had much experience at, since American men had that sort of thing down pat. But it was either that or let him walk away and never see him again, which at the moment was out of the question.
So she started from the top, telling him, “I’m Brittany Callaghan, and you are?”
“Sha-Ka’ani.”
“Excuse me?”
The volume must have gotten turned up by accident on his radio, because even she could hear the tinny-sounding screeching coming out of his earphone that made him wince. He yanked it off his ear, held it a moment while he glared at it, then attached it again.
