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* * *
An hour later, I come to the conclusion that if I don’t put the mail down and take a break, I’ll go blind. Not to mention, starve. My stomach groans in protest of its emptiness and I grimace.
This morning, I was so excited to get to the gallery, I filled my cup of coffee and rushed out of the house.
“Remy, I’m going to Kubano for lunch. Can I bring you anything back?”
She looks up from the setup she’s working on. Her gaze catches on something over my shoulder and she grins from ear to ear like a fool. “You may want to wait on Kubano. Something yummier is coming this way.”
I look behind me and my breath catches as, through one of the large windows of the gallery, I spot Noah peeking inside.
When his warm eyes lock onto mine, heat rushes to every inch of my face, and my own lips pull into a wide grin.
Oh my God, he’s here! I do a quick mental check of my appearance. My hair loose in tight waves, the powder-blue shoulder-tie dress and white sandals. I dressed for comfort, not to impress.
He pushes the glass door open and enters, his long legs bringing him to me in a few strides.
“You’re back from Europe,” he says. Though he’s smiling too, it’s not the fool’s grin I’m sporting. His is cool and controlled. It’s his stare that dances over my features that gives away his intense interest. I may not be dressed in a chic black outfit like Remy, but he likes what he sees.
“Yes. We returned a couple of days ago.”
Giving Remy a glance and a smile that has her squirming, he says, “I came to see you, but you’d already left.”
“Remy told me.” I chew on my lower lip. “Were you looking for something in particular? A painting? Or was there something else I could help you with?”
His gaze flicks back to me, going from honey to smoldering gold. “I was looking for you.”
“Sweet Jesus,” Remy squeaks. “Em, are you still going to lunch? You said you were really hungry.”
Noah’s eyes glitter. “What a coincidence. I was going to lunch as well. We could go together. It would be much less boring with something beautiful to look at.”
My lips tug up more if possible. “All right. Do you like Cuban food?”
“Love it.”
* * *
We go to the restaurant two doors down. There’s a table available by the window, where we take our seats. The server brings us our menus and water, all the while unable to keep her attention off the handsome man sitting across from me.
I don’t blame her. Noah is insanely good-looking. He’s impeccably dressed in gray slacks and a deep-purple button-up shirt that showcases the breadth of his chest to perfection, his hair short and trimmed on the sides and the top slightly longer. But it’s not his physical appearance that has women staring. There’s something about him that screams of power.
All eyes might be on him, but his are solely focused on me. Even when our food is brought and the waitress asks if we would like anything else, he doesn’t turn away.
I’d have to be dead not to react to it. My body heat rises with each passing second where he observes me so intensely, and I find myself downing my cold water quickly.
“I’m glad you stopped by the gallery,” I say to him.
“I’m glad I took the chance. Your father won’t have a problem with you coming?”
Frowning, I ask, “My father?”
“He didn’t seem keen on me the night we met.”
Laughter bursts from me. “Dad doesn’t approve of anyone I might actually like.”
“So he’s a strict man?”
Shaking my head, I say, “Not exactly. Just with this one thing.” I stuff a bite into my mouth in an unladylike manner because I’m so hungry.
