At the Grand Opening of Jean-Luc Echarpe’s store in
Texas, he watches the mortals from behind the one-way glass
in his upstairs office. He spots a beautiful woman copying
his designs and rushes downstairs to confront her. As a
schoolteacher, Heather Westfield can’t afford anything at
Echarpe’s fancy new store, so she decides to sew her own
version of his latest designs. Suddenly, a man comes out
of nowhere and threatens to have her arrested! He must be
a security guard, a very handsome security guard…
Excerpt from Chapter Two:
He took hold of her arm. “I saw you copying the white gown.
It is twenty thousand dollars. Since you are so interested
in it, you should buy it.”
She snorted. “I wouldn’t be caught dead in that gown.”
“What?” His eyebrows shot up. “There’s nothing wrong with
that design.”
“Are you kidding?” She pulled away from his grasp. “What
was Echarpe thinking? The neckline plunges past the navel.
The skirt slits up to North Dakota. No woman in her right
mind would wear that thing in public.”
His jaw shifted as he ground his teeth. “The models are
happy to wear it.”
“My point, exactly. Those poor women are so malnourished,
they can’t think straight. Take my friend Sasha. Her idea
of a three-course meal is a celery stick, a cherry tomato,
and a laxative. She’s killing herself to fit into these
clothes. Women like me can’t dress like that.”
His gaze drifted over her again. “I think you could. You
would look...superbe.”
“My breasts would fall out.”
“Exactly.” The corner of his mouth tilted up.
She huffed. “I’m not showing my breasts in public.”
His eyes twinkled. “Would you do it in private?”
Damn him and his pretty blue eyes. She had to think a
moment to remember the gist of the conversation. “Are you
going to arrest me or drool on me?”
He smiled. “Can I do both?”
What a confusing man. “I haven’t done anything wrong. I
mean, other than the crab cake. But I wouldn’t have taken
it if I could actually afford anything in this place.”
His smile faded. “You are in need of money? You plan to
sell the designs you copied to another house?”
“No. I just wanted to make one for myself.”
“You are lying. You said you would not be caught dead in
one of these gowns.”
Lying? This guy was full of rotten accusations. “Look, I
would never wear one of these gowns the way Echarpe
designed them. I tell you, the guy is completely detached
from reality. Does he even know any real people?”
“Not like you,” he muttered, then held out his hand. “Let
me see your sketchings.”
“All right. If it’ll help clear things up.” She showed him
her notepad. “The first one is the white gown, but I fixed
it.”
“Fixed it? I can hardly recognize it.”
“I know. It looks so much better now. I could actually wear
it without getting arrested for indecent exposure.”
He gritted his teeth. “It’s not that bad.”
“If a young boy saw me in it, I’d be listed on a website as
a sex offender. But the point is moot, since I could never
afford the dress in the first place. I can’t even buy a
pair of socks here without getting my truck repossessed.”
“This merchandise is designed for an elite few.”
“Oh, pardon me. I’ll just have Cheeves bring around the
Rolls-Royce, so I can putter over to the airport and take
my private jet back to my villa in Tuscany.”
His mouth twitched as he turned to the next page. “And this
is the red gown?”
“Yes, but much better after I fixed it. There are four more
designs there. I was coming up with so many ideas all at
once, I just had to get them down before they were lost. If
you know what I mean.”
“Actually, I do.” He gave her an odd look.
It was odd. He didn’t look like the type to understand the
whimsical creative process. He looked more like an athlete,
but with the build of a swimmer, not a weightlifter.
Could he actually have her arrested? His strange
accusations combined with his handsome looks had confounded
her to the point that she’d babbled like a nervous idiot.
She needed to relax and be nicer. “I’m really sorry. I
didn’t mean to steal anything. Am I in trouble?”
He glanced at her with a hint of a smile. “Do you want to
be?”
She stopped herself from saying yes. Good Lord, this guy
was sexy. And much too gorgeous for his own good. No doubt,
he had trouble finding clothes that fit those broad
shoulders and long legs. He probably had problems with
women, too. They took one look at him and their clothes
accidentally fell off.
Aha! That’s what she’d do if he arrested her. She’d offer
herself to him as a sacrifice. How noble. How ridiculous.
She would never have the nerve.
He finished studying her drawings. “These are actually
quite good. I can see how they would be more flattering for
a woman with a...more luscious figure.”
He really liked her designs? Heather’s heart swelled with
pride and joy. She liked being called luscious, too. “Thank
you. And thanks for not calling women like me fat.”
He stiffened. “Why would I say that when it’s not true?”
Whoa. This man was serious trouble. Not only was he
gorgeous, but he knew the right things to say to women.
Double the danger. And double the fun? No, she slapped
herself mentally. She’d just rid herself of one male
disaster. No way was she hanging around for the
sequel. “I’d better be going.” She turned to leave.
“You forgot your sketchings.”
She pivoted to face him. “You’ll let me keep them?”
“On one condition.” He glanced behind her. “Zut. We must
go.”
She looked over her shoulder. A big guy in a kilt was
confiscating a young woman’s camera phone.
“But I wanted a picture for my blog,” the young woman
objected.
“Come.” The gorgeous security guard grabbed Heather’s arm
and led her toward a set of double doors with the word
Private printed above them.
“Wait a minute.” Heather slowed down. “Where are you taking
me?”
“A place where we can talk.”
Talk? Wasn’t that code for something else? “Uh, I don’t
talk with strangers.”
“You’ve been talking to me.” He gave her a wry look as he
pulled her through the double doors and into a
hallway. “You’ve given me quite an earful.”
“Well, yes.” She glanced back at the showroom. “I just hope
you’re not expecting something more.”
He halted by another set of double doors and returned her
notepad. While she stuffed it in her purse, he punched in a
number on a keypad. “What I am about to show you is very
private.”
Oh God, she was afraid of that. “Only seen by an elite few?”
“Exactly. I know you’re a tough critic, but I think you
will be impressed.”
Her gaze wandered south. “I’m sure I will.”
“Heather.”
His soft way of saying her name made her feel all melted
and gooey inside. She lifted her eyes to meet his.
His mouth curled up. “Are we talking about the same thing?”
