He was at least six-three or six-four. Tall was the adjective with which I was forced to settle. He was tall and broad—but in a natural sort of way, as opposed to a bulky sort of way. The suit he wore was irritatingly perfect; it hugged him in all the right places. In short, it was proof that he was a healthy, active, deliciously fit man. And handsome. Good God, was he handsome.
His hair was a deep, dark brown, and he wore it parted down the side and slicked back. It was classy. It was sexy. It was—distracting. But it was his eyes that did me in. They were gray. Not blue, not black, but this beautiful shade of dark gray.
“Logan.”
He spoke, but I didn’t comprehend what he said. I was too mesmerized by the sound of his rich, baritone voice. When he started walking toward me, I became fully aware that as I was staring at him, he was also staring at me. Suddenly cognizant of the reality in which I found myself, I began to panic. I looked to Geoffrey for guidance, for clarity, for my right mind—which had obviously been misplaced—but he only smirked at me. He then waggled his eyebrows before he shifted his attention to the blonde woman I didn’t notice standing in the spot the beautiful stranger vacated.
My eyes widened, a sense of abandonment causing my heart to beat wildly within my chest. At the last minute, I spun around to face the wall once more. I fastened my gaze on the canvas in front of me and willed myself to draw in a deep breath. It was when the tall, handsome man came to a stop beside me that it occurred to me how Geoffrey offered him help; and yet, it was me he approached.
“It’s exquisite,” he said.
Instantly unbearably shy, I couldn’t bring myself to look into his eyes. Rather, I did the next best thing. I looked at his shoes.
“Wha—uh—what is?” I barely managed, my voice pathetic and squeaky.
“The painting. I assume you agree. You were quite captivated upon our entrance.”
“Oh,” I sighed, feeling something akin to relief. I then lifted my eyes back up to look at the canvas. If there was one thing I was sure of, it was my ability to share with another my appreciation for art. It eased my nerves knowing he saw the same brilliance I did.
“It just arrived today,” I told him. “This particular artist is one we work with frequently. I think he’s quite good.”
“I’m quite good, as well,” he murmured.
An innocent frown tugged my eyebrows together as I peered down at his shoes again. “Good at what, exactly?”
“Lots of things.”
I wasn’t prepared for his touch. When he grazed his finger along the underside of my jaw, my breath caught in my throat. Upon reaching my chin, he tipped my head up, forcing me to look into his eyes.
“You’re quite exquisite yourself—but I assure you, my shoes are not that interesting.”
As a blush blossomed across my cheeks, I so desperately wished Geoffrey hadn’t left me all alone. The man before me was too much. Too much beauty. Too much confidence. Just—too much.
“What’s your name?” he asked, his fingers still poised at my chin.
“Teddy. And—and yours?”
“Judah.”
Two syllables. In the length of time it took him to speak two syllables, I watched as his eyes devoured my face. As they did so, I could not prevent my blush from deepening. I couldn’t remember the last time a man perused me so openly—if ever.
“How old are you?”
“Um,” I flinched a little, taken aback by the question. Yet, as unsure as I was about why he asked, I found myself admitting, “I’m almost twenty-three. Why?”
“I’d like to take you to dinner.”
The only reason my jaw didn’t fall open in that moment was because he happened to still be holding it in place. Still, all the air in my lungs rushed out of me as I gaped at him in complete and utter shock.
“Dinner?” I muttered, as if I somehow misheard him.
“Yes. I consider myself a gentleman. I usually prefer to dine with the women I take to bed; and you, Teddy, would be an exceptionally welcome beauty in my bed.”
“Whoa,” I exclaimed as I took a step away from him. He dropped his hand from my face, and the loss of his touch stirred within me a gumption I had not been in possession of a second prior. “Did you just—did you just proposition me?” I demanded to know.
“I’m simply extending an offer, one adult to another,” he said as he casually slipped his hands into his pockets. “An evening spent in my company. No strings.”
I coughed out a laugh, but it wasn’t amusement I felt. Far from it. I was aghast. For a moment, I wondered if I imagined the whole thing. I glanced around me and saw we were still alone. When my eyes found his once more, I saw it. I saw he was completely serious.
Like a vail had been lifted from between us, I could see beyond every single one of his attractive features. Or, rather, it was almost as if I could see what his weaponized attractiveness had done to him. Before me was nothing more than an arrogant man who thought his proposal of dinner and sex would actually coerce me into his bed.
Whatever it was I saw—my perception of him was totally tarnished. Rather than a racing pulse, he left a sick feeling in my stomach.
“I think,” I started and then I stopped, interrupted by another unstoppable, horrified laugh. “I think I’m supposed to be flattered, but I’m not. So, if you’ll excuse me, my lunch has arrived.”
I hurried around him, inadvertently breathing him in. Unsurprisingly, he smelled incredible. So much so, a part of me wished to peek at him from over my shoulder just one last time. I didn’t. Though, as I made my way to the gallery’s back room, I couldn’t help but wonder if by not looking, I had missed my last chance to lay eyes on the most gorgeous asshole I had ever met.
Chapter Six
There was a stillness as he and Logan entered Mountain Time Art. It was the kind which only existed in a sacred space. There was no one seated at the reception desk, and no one came out to greet them, but Judah was not bothered by this.
“Hmm,” Logan hummed, glancing to her left and to her right. “I’m sure someone is here. Maybe they’re upstairs and didn’t hear us come in. Should we look around for a minute?”
Judah offered her a nod and, without another word, began to follow her through the quiet gallery. Nothing caught his eye at first, but Logan stopped to admire a piece. Wishing to see more, he left her to wander on his own. As he rounded a corner, he was pleased to find something which caught his eye. Or, rather, someone.
She was standing perfectly still, her hands casually clasped together in front of her. She was tiny. Delicate. Though, not in stature. While Judah towered over most women, he surmised this woman was at least five-six when her feet were bare. Her height only added to her details—details he studied without guilt.
The floral-patterned skirt she wore sculpted her waist, hips, and her backside quite well. From his vantage point, he thought she looked exceptionally and wonderfully breakable. The thought of how he might ravage her if given the chance excited him, and he had to force himself to take a deep breath.
Her long, vibrant red hair hung in waves down to the middle of her back, and he found the color a beautiful contrast to her porcelain white skin. His thoughts raced out of his control, and he imagined wrapping his fingers around the tresses and tugging at them until he had her precisely where he wanted her.