Love Found Me (A City Love Novel, Book 1) (2 page)

She paused, believing she'd had some relief as she formed her bearings. But, before she could catch a breath and figure a course of action. It had all happened so fast when her reflexes took on a mind of their own with all the strength in her.

Danielle tightened her fists to the wheel and hit the gas. She'd been ready to duel, but just then he'd whipped straight past her and chiseled the titanium gray. The jolt spun her into a wild zigzag, as she screeched past a flame bursting orange top-down convertible. "Bastard!" Her voice swelled to the top of her lungs, as she stopped short of the convertible, nearly thumping its bumper.

And then, out of nowhere, just when she'd popped from her heated frenzy, a sharp jolt hit her like a ton of bricks, as she wrestled gravity dragging her backward. In a matter of seconds, he'd spun her into a figure eight tailspin just before she'd pivoted against a bearing wall and fainted with her head leaning against the steering wheel.

The eerie calm quickly retreated to the sound of heavy pounding. Without warning, a strong-arm shaded the titanium and mirrored a lanky silhouette in its sparkled curves. The pounding fell away in her ear, enfolding chills up her slender flesh again as the window roved at the tight fists of fury pummeling into it.

Burnt rubber still infused the tarmac. Heavy black smoke bellowed to the beams, vaporizing in a thin trail of haze. Out of nowhere, a muddled shout from the smoky haze, and then a tall vision in black leather and cashmere appeared. He had sprinted toward her stalled car. Fortunately, she'd escaped with merely a scratch, but her car wasn't so lucky.

Steam vapors oozed and hissed the frontal grill like an open-pit barbeque. Yet still, she paid no mind to the moment of eeriness that swept level ten with her head bowed against the wheel--sprawling a profile that would make any man question her lifeless appearance.

"Are you okay?"

His voice was deep and warm, and could've shaken a woman to her knees in wanting. If only she had been coherent at the time to notice. She was barely aware that she'd been out of it for several intense seconds.

"Miss?" he gasped a breath.

She was startled by the unfamiliar voice, when she leapt and unclenched her hands from the wheel. Watery beads still trickled the glass from early morning's downpour, as she squinted past the succulent blur. But it certainly didn't stop her from seeing a mesmerizing vision of what appeared to be--tall, dark and handsome.

He was panting when he repeated, "Miss?"

Danielle's thick dark hair rolled away from her face as she watched his polished loafers shift closer. By that point, she'd had no choice but to crane her head to face him.

"Huh?"
She murmured, as she shook off a lingering shiver--undoubtedly a shameless craving to taste every morsel of sex appeal riding the ripples in his cashmere.

As she looked up and met the eye of a man peering through rain swept glass, her gut instantly clenched. His hazel smoldered fervent intensity as their eyes locked for an endless moment. She opened her mouth to answer him, but the words fell silent. Fortunately, she could finally get a closer look at him, as his pecks bulged and ruffled supple leather.

"Miss, are you hurt?"

He called loudly enough to be heard above the roar of the duct fans as he leaned in closer to the glass, breathing smoky halos in midair. His heavy panting had yet to trail off as he spoke, only pulsing her heart in unison. Once her brain finally clicked on and her eyes rose into focus, she pulled forward.

In obvious concern, he stared back at her. She didn't know what to think. Everything seemed to be happening so fast.

Danielle pushed the wet bangs from her eyes and swallowed.

"I...ahhh..." she managed to mumble, before squirming in the leather cushion. His eyes smoldered skin so hot, a bucket of ice would've melted right off of her. Danielle writhed in her seat again as she peered up beneath her lashes in a soft voice, "I'mmm fine," she said, just before her words fell silent again.

As the vapor melted, her window framed a lanky profile laced in a perfect bronze in the heart of winter. His fashionably ripped distressed jeans finessed a stylish silvery chain belt tapering black leather and soft camel-like cashmere.

Sexy and party boy--only a fool would combine the two. Roman Jules, ultimately debonair, charming and what any woman would naturally be attracted to. Yet, here he stood gazing into a window at a half-limp and over struck woman on the verge of losing it and indulging in a manner of lustful thoughts.

Justifiably, the man was tall, dark-haired and mastered tan perfection. He was a man who turned women's heads, and made men take an instinctive step back when he walked by. He was so ripped and sexy. Muscular and toned with a curvaceous figure that rivaled any Rodin sculpture.

His stare devoured her attention to the point of salivating.
This is crazy. What was I thinking? What am I doing? Get a grip Danielle.
She swallowed slowly and scanned over him, denying every word she'd told herself. Handsome only brushed the surface. He was a vision in suave urban casual, and impeccably polished Italian loafers.

She let herself glance over him again for five intense seconds and then forced herself to look away. Those dark eyes focused so intensely on her, tamed her impulse to groan. As she looked up at him, his bronze radiated an infinite glow against the maze of skyscrapers.

"I rushed right over...the SUV was already halfway down the ramp when I--" His words came out almost as a wail, arousing a sensuality she hadn't craved in years. She was breathing hard, but nowhere as hard as he was.

As she motored the window, wet vaporous beads trickled the glass and shellacked the asphalt like a slippery veil of ice.

This is awkward.
She swallowed. "So, you're the new guy?"

"Yeah. I'm pretty much settled in. I got a great deal on this place. Although I'd had my heart set on the penthouse, some money-grubbing ass offered a fortune...just whipped it right out from under me."

His eyebrows rose as she stammered, "
I--I'm
in the penthouse."

"God. I'm sorry. I didn't mean t---"

She watched him try to tame his silence.

His biceps flexed and revealed long, strong muscles coursing his slick leather jacket. And, not surprisingly, lust tugged at Danielle's gut, and she glared at Roman who jumped and shifted his eyes to his loafers. He wasn't blushing, but that meant nothing. And then, in the next minute, his eyes met hers again.

He clarified, "How 'bout we start over. I'm Roman. Roman Jules. A man lucky to have met such a beautiful woman." His husky voice was a gentle entreaty of aroused calm as he held out a hand. "Lovely to meet you--" he said, pausing for her name.

His grasp was strong and his skin was smooth as velvet. His grip had practically magnetized her hand in his when she stuttered, "I--I'm Danielle," at the very moment she'd just about melted in front of him.

Her viscous palm had her clamoring to his, not that she wanted to let go. She knew his body had to fuse her temperature rising. Probing the heat pulsing his veins from her fingertips. But as their hands unglued, all he uttered hence was merely trite conversation.

"So you're the lucky lady with that awesome apartment and those amazing views of--"

Her gaze darted out to the chiseled burst of canary electrifying a gloomy niche on the opposite side of the garage.
Could it be...it couldn't
, she said to herself. The little hairs got all tingly thinking about it. She'd just remembered it was Sunday, and there shouldn't have been a canary Lamborghini in number twenty-three--
at least not this early
--but there was.

She interjected, "
Your
car?" Danielle nodded a gesture at the Italian masterpiece sprawling six-figure torque --glittering like a rich man's masterfully prized plaything.

Super-tech armor illuminated vapid calm. Two pair of hexagonal windows framed the finest Bolognese leather, smoldering a drive train that redefined any man toy. Pure and simple dominant power had to be the man behind this machine.

"Yeah, that's my baby alright." Her eyes were doting as he spoke. "I was just getting ready to take her for a spin, before I heard all the raucous."

He had one of his hands tucked into a pocket of his jeans, and the other sprawled against the rim of her window. She tried desperately not to zone in on his denim jut to the point of expansion. It was driving her crazy.

"The stench of burnt rubber oozed across the entire floor. It sounded crazy. Good thing you weren't hurt, cause it was like a speedway in here." He pushed a hand through his dark hair, and blew a long breath. "Oh my god!" He shook his head. "That must have been frightening for you."

"You're sure you're okay?" he affirmed as he moved closer to her. He tucked his hands in the pockets of his soft leather jacket, creasing a concerned smile.

Refusing to acknowledge the shattering ordeal, she shrugged and then nodded, "Yes," just before she loosened her glittery pashmina and turned off the heated seat.

Danielle hadn't once thought about the peril moments earlier as his earthy redolence infused the leather cabin. She groped the steering wheel and sucked in his scent so fast that she'd almost choked on spiced cedar and lavender.

His eyes were understanding as he asked, "Y'know who that guy was?"

"I have no idea. But believe me, I'm gonna find out," she replied.

Suddenly she couldn't begin to imagine how Roman conveniently streamed into the vapid calm that laced the garage. Danielle's frantic caution was beginning to probe a vain curiosity. Was there a mystery behind the man? Were those surreptitious glances? Was he a man guarding secrets?

She'd been plagued with a lurking suspicion that it all seemed too surreal--Too convenient. But she had to be clever and maintain a mutual familiarity no matter how dangerous, to trap the target, whomever and wherever they might be.

"What are you some P.I. or something?" he asked.

"Accountant," she said loosely. "Tying up loose ends is only part of the job." She writhed her sweater knit skirt against the leather seat. "I'm used to snuffing out the trail of greedy
scum
all the time."

She squirmed again in the cushion straightening the pleat in her pearl white pea coat.

Danielle reached out to scoop her alligator handbag off the passenger side floor that hit the mat amidst all the terror. Her hands were still trembling when she released a sharp quiver, sending her compact mirror, lipsticks, mascara and phone to the carpet. She was still dangling the shoulder strap when she flung the purse onto the seat beside her. Sifting girly odds and ends, she ladled them one by one back into the bright fuchsia pit of her purse.

"Let me at least walk you to your apartment... can't be too careful," he gestured, offering a relieved smile.

"Thanks but--" she obliged.

"Before you say no, just let me mention that I'm a nice guy. A really nice guy." He gave a wide-eyed smile continuing, "Don't be fooled by the car. I'm a perfect gentleman."

"And I'm supposed to believe that?"

"Why not?"

She raised her eyebrows, "You could be some crazed lunatic for all I know." She paused for a moment, "I...ah--"

Danielle studied his face, chiseling earnest hazel eyes narrowed, dark hair neatly trimmed and beguiling expression, as he lazed against the passenger door, waiting for her answer.

Considering the circumstances she knew he was a perfect stranger, and nice girls don't go wondering off with strange men they met in a dark garage, even if it was Sunday morning--even if he was deliciously gorgeous. But there was some mind-blowing reasoning behind the backbone and audacity to follow her gut, despite her biased suspicion.

"Perfect gentleman, huh?" she contemplated, as she flung the pearly pashmina over her camel hair overcoat against the ensuing chill of February. It wouldn't take much convincing with his thick lashes sweeping across his brown eyes and the subtle dimple his right cheek swooned to the surface that won her over completely.

After the horrific tailspin, Danielle was still quite naturally overwhelmed with a looming nightmare on her hands. She was still vulnerable. But this vulnerability would be shattered by her gutsy audacity to fall short of victim.