Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 129980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Azelie had never seen a man quite like Andrii before. He was tall with broad shoulders and so much muscle through his arms and chest she didn’t know how his shirt could contain it all. His hair was a true black streaked with silver. The silver didn’t make him look older, but his eyes did. He should have had gray eyes, but the color was lighter than gray, so he appeared to have silver eyes. When he looked at her, she had the mad desire to do anything he asked of her. Not a good thing. She wanted to be independent, and over the last couple of years she had worked hard to suppress the need in her to nurture and serve others.
Clearly, she hadn’t succeeded—yet. Not with the seniors who she bonded with. There were also the parents she helped out occasionally in the park she frequented. And now there was Andrii. She was staying far, far away from him.
She had gleaned from the conversation she’d overheard between the two men that Lazar lived close, and Andrii was visiting because he had business in San Francisco. She’d never seen Lazar in the coffee shop, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t there at different hours than she was. He was probably considered good-looking—at least the merry widows, the owner of the shop and a few other females ogled him when he was there with Andrii.
Lazar had a build similar to Andrii’s in that he had wide shoulders and a thick chest and arms, giving him an appearance of power. His hair was dark, and he wore it slicked back and neat, much neater than Andrii’s shaggy hair. His eyes were hazel and at times looked amber to her. There were freckles all over his face, which should have detracted from his looks but only seemed to enhance them—at least to the other women.
The moment Andrii entered the shop, she was acutely aware of him in the room. She didn’t have to look up to know he was there. She knew exactly where he was every minute. He had such a presence. She sat at her usual table, a small one for two people only, toward the back of the shop. She had a good view of the windows and could see two streets, as the coffee shop was on a corner. Instead of looking at the views—or at Andrii—she brought up the book she was currently reading. She hoped the novel would keep the butterflies from fluttering in her stomach.
With one finger, Azelie pushed back the glasses threatening to slide from her nose. The thick black frames annoyed her when they insisted on falling right when she was reading something exciting. She loved books and the adventures they could take her on. It wasn’t like she was ever going to be leading a wild and crazy life, so reading about exotic places and heroes and heroines appealed to her—especially ones that were monogamous. And happy endings were always important, no matter if there was murder, mystery or mayhem.
It was impossible to shut out the giggles of the merry widows. For no reason at all, color swept up her neck into her face. She was certain the women were gesturing wildly toward her. Sighing, she glanced up over the top of her glasses, blinking rapidly several times to bring her surroundings into focus. Her gaze collided with a pair of eyes more liquid silver than gray and very intense. His lashes, very black and thick, didn’t take away from his chiseled features. The fact that he wore his black hair longer, and it was streaked with fine threads of silver, only enhanced the entirely masculine vibe he had going. As far as she could tell, there wasn’t an ounce of fat anywhere on him.
Her stomach clenched. Her sex clenched. Her entire body wanted to seize. He was intimidating just because he was so gorgeous.
“Would you mind if I join you? As you can see, the shop is filling up quickly.”
She blinked up at him again, trying to catch her breath. Just looking at him made everything she had want to run. She had to look away, afraid she’d make an utter fool of herself if she tried to speak. She looked around the coffee shop. It was nearly empty.
“Zelie.”
His voice was smooth. Like the brush of velvet against her skin. She’d never heard a voice like his before. Not ever. He had the kind of voice that made her shiver in anticipation of…what? Hot blood rushed through her veins and under her skin, coloring her face a bright red. There was no controlling that wild blush any more than there was controlling the flutter in her sex. And Zelie? No one called her Zelie. It was always Azelie. But she liked the way he said Zelie. Still…