by Gina Kincade
She picked up her fork and took one last bite of her chicken before pushing the plate away.
That was enough. She’d sat and sulked alone for far too long. Perhaps it was time to wobble up to her room with her brand-new shiny red high-heels.
Again, Eve’s idea.
Eve had planned her whole outfit, her whole evening, except the part of the no-show Mr. Wonderful.
Wendy fought tears of disappointment. Despite her hesitations, she had truly hoped that Mr. Wonderful would have been Mr. Right Now, if not Mr. Right Forever. It had been so long since a man held her hand or hugged her close and forget about kissing.
What was that like?
She barely remembered the last time she was kissed. And sex…
Wendy brushed a hand across her eyes as if she could just banish the thought the instant it took root in her head. She didn’t want to think about the last time she had sex…with a man. The only pleasure she found these days was an object in a box or her own dexterous fingers.
Now…she was getting depressed.
Wendy took one last swig from her wineglass, swallowing in one unladylike gulp, then stood.
“Leaving so soon?” A man’s voice spoke into her ear, so close she could feel his breath against her skin. She turned to come face to face with velvety blue eyes surrounded by thick, black lashes. Tiny laugh lines branched out from those incredible eyes that creased as he smiled. Wendy’s gaze traveled across his face to his mouth only inches from her own. Even, bright white teeth flashed in that smile. Wendy couldn’t help but notice the small cleft in his chin.
“Is this seat taken?” She watched the man’s lips move around the words, but her wine-fogged brain had trouble comprehending the meaning. She was too busy taking in the rest of him to understand anything he said.
His mouth and eyes were only parts of a handsome face. A strong jaw, carved cheekbones, and slightly tanned skin. Dark hair the color of midnight, a bit long and in need of a trim, but sexy, nonetheless.
And then her gaze moved down his body.
She gulped at the barely concealed muscles hidden beneath his white shirt. Muscles that formed a contoured chest and broad shoulders that ached to be explored.
Wait. Did his shoulders ache or did her fingers ache to touch those shoulders?
She gave a brief shake of her head, blinking as she did so. It didn’t matter. The point was an incredibly handsome man stood before her, and Wendy had to stop gawking.
Was she drooling?
Oh, dear God.
She landed back in her seat with a thump and felt a blush stain her cheeks as she wondered how long she’d stood gaping. She looked away at anything but him, the floor…no, she could see his shoes now. Didn’t he have the most incredible sized feet?
Quickly, she moved her gaze to the table and her empty plate upon it.
She felt rather than saw him move to the chair seated across from her.
“Is this seat taken?” She was dimly aware that he repeated his question while she’d been struck dumb by the sight of him.
“I’m afraid not,” she answered, taking a great gulp of air to regain her sense of balance. The appearance of a man never frazzled her. It was a new sensation, but not an unpleasant one.
Just a little embarrassing.
She squeezed her eyes shut. Maybe she’d had way too much wine tonight.
“I didn’t mean to intrude, but when I saw you here alone, I thought you might like some company. You see, I’m alone tonight, too.”
“You?” Her eyes flashed open to take in his god-like face as he seated himself across from her. “What? Do you have a horrible personality? How is it you’re not snatched up already? It’s Valentine’s Day. I thought I was the only one alone here tonight.”
She glanced around the restaurant, glaring at all the couples sharing intimate tables with each other. No one else had been stood up tonight. No one else sat alone and dejected and likely drunk.
“I don’t like to think my personality is so horrible,” the man said, smiling at her brusque words.
“Well, I guess we all have our problems, don’t we?” She was feeling a little tipsy from the combination of wine and the attention of a good-looking man. She didn’t know what she was saying. At least, that’s what Wendy told herself as she realized how loose her tongue had become. She wasn’t always this forward, but then again, what did it matter? She didn’t know him. She’d likely never see him again. Why should she care what he thought of her?
Then Wendy narrowed her eyes considering something else. Something she hadn’t thought of until now. “You’re not Mr. Wonderful, are you?”
“Pardon me?” The man nearly choked on a laugh.
“Are you the man Eve sent to meet me? If so, you’re nearly an hour late. I’ve finished dinner. I’m not planning on sticking around to watch you eat.”
“No,” the man said, shaking his head with a smile. “I’m not this scoundrel you speak of. My name is Magnus.”
“Oh,” she said, eying him warily. “I’m Wendy.”
“Hello, Wendy. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He lifted his hand over the table. She hesitated, considering if this was safe or not. He was a stranger. She was a little tipsy. But what harm could come from a simple handshake? She lifted her right arm and allowed his large hand to engulf her tiny one. The warmth of his calloused fingers wrapping around her delicate, fragile skin sent shivers of warmth flowing up her arm, down her spine to gather low in her belly. She gasped at the contact, sobering instantly. When he released her hand, the warmth stayed with her. She tucked her hand underneath the table so he couldn’t see her fingers tremble.
“Did you enjoy your meal?” Magnus asked, glancing at her empty plate.
“Yes, it was delicious.”
“Good,” he said. “I have it on great authority that the food here is excellent.” He paused and tilted his head. “My nephew is the chef.”
“He’s accepted his calling then,” Wendy said, her mind whirring with this little snippet of information. So, Magnus was connected to this inn in some familial way.
“Do you work here, too?”
“No,” he said. “My sister’s family runs the inn. I…try to keep out of their way as much as I can.”
“Oh.” What did that cryptic statement mean? Was he a troublemaker? Did he not get along with his family? If so, then what was he doing here tonight?
“Family trouble?” Since the wine had loosened her tongue, she might as well use it. After all, what else did she have to do tonight? She could sit here and barrage this stranger with questions, or she could go to her bed alone and weep.
She’d rather the conversation, no matter how weird.
“Not for a long, long time. The trouble was in the past. Forgotten, mostly. By everyone save me.”
So, he held grudges. Interesting.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
He smiled. “Not particularly. I’d rather speak of you. As in why you’re here looking for Mr. Wonderful when I’m shocked that he hasn’t found you already.”
“Funny,” Wendy said with a smirk. “Flattery will get you nowhere, buddy. Especially tonight.”
“So, there is no…Mr. Wonderful?”
“Nope.” She shook her head. “My best friend set me up with the guy. I should’ve known better. The last blind date she set me up with turned into a disaster, too. No, I’m destined to become a spinster, I’m afraid.”
“Surely not.”
“I’m thirty years old with no prospects to speak of. The men I meet through friends never last. I’ve tried the online dating thing but that just brought out the weirdos. I’m not sure how to meet my Mr. Wonderful. I’m not even sure we’re in the same country.”
“Or century?”
“What?”
“Just kidding,” Magnus said, still smiling. “I believe it’s just as difficult for a man to find…Miss Wonderful. I’ve been searching for many, many years. Too many years. Over two hundred.” He p
aused when he caught sight of her frown. “Or so it seems. I was about to give up.”
“Eve says to never give up searching, but Matt, her husband, says that when I stop looking that’s when Mr. Wonderful will fall into my lap. This was my last effort. If it didn’t go well after tonight, and since he never showed I can honestly say it went horribly, then I’m done with men. Anyway, I don’t need a man to be happy.”
Magnus nodded. “I’m certain you are quite capable of taking care of yourself.”
“I do. I am,” she said, nodding her agreement. “I’m good at my job. I have a decent income. I have friends and a social life. I don’t need a man for anything.”
Other than the comfort of not being alone at night…
Wendy grimaced as the thought betrayed her stance against men.
“I wish I could agree with you,” Magnus said, drawing her attention back to him. “However, I’ve lived so long without a woman that I understand the loneliness of this existence. But I couldn’t choose any woman. There’s only one woman who can hold my heart.”
How poetic!
“That’s sweet,” she said. “But hopeless. I hope you realize that.”
He sighed, the constant smile now slipping. “You have no idea how true those words might be. Hopeless.”
Guilt pervaded her soul as she realized how pessimistic her words and thoughts had become. At the sight of his sadness, she realized that she was becoming what she most hated. A skeptic. She wanted to believe in true love. She wanted to believe that happily ever after did exist if she could just find the right person to share it with. But after tonight, dismay had filled her heart.
Now, she had pushed her negative vibes onto this handsome, although naïve, man. With his good looks, she couldn’t see the problem with finding a woman but finding the right woman…now that was a problem that she could relate to.
“Magnus,” she said, leaning closer to him with her elbows resting on the edge of the table. “Don’t listen to me. I’m just not in a great mood tonight. I don’t mean to dampen your spirits. Just because I’m planning on giving up, doesn’t mean that you should.” She reached out her hand to place it over his, squeezing his strong fingers. “I’m sure you’ll find her somewhere.”
His fingers slipped around to capture her hand. Slowly, he lifted her fingers to his lips and placed a gentle kiss there before releasing her.
The shock of warmth zipped along her skin again, nearly taking her breath away. She stared at him as his handsome smile returned.
“You are very kind to say so.” Then he cocked his head to the side, listening. She was suddenly aware that music had begun to play. A few of the couples seated at the tables were now moving toward an open area that had become a dance floor.
Now was the perfect time to retreat, Wendy decided. It was another of tonight’s disappointments that she couldn’t bear to witness. She opened her mouth to say good-night, but Magnus beat her to it.
“Would you care to dance?” The hand he had used to kiss her fingers reached out in offering. She hesitated, not knowing if it was wise to touch him again.
Her gaze flicked to the dancers, then back to him.
“I won’t bite. I promise.”
Wendy nodded. “What the hell, right? I might as well enjoy myself.”
“Exactly.”
She placed her hand back into his, this time prepared for the warmth of touching his skin. He stood and led her across the room to the dance floor. Then he turned to face her, opening his arms in invitation.
Wendy’s heart thumped wildly. This was what she wanted. To be held by a man. To feel his arms wrapped around her in warmth and comfort. Love was too much to ask for, but she could still take advantage of feeling a man hold her again.
She shivered, but stepped forward, letting him lead her into a slow dance.
It was nice.
Beyond nice.
It felt wonderful. Safe, warm, and wild. She couldn’t seem to control her heartbeat and wondered if he could hear the frantic thumping. She tried to focus on something other than the slight press of his body against hers, the feeling of his breath against her cheek, the masculine smell of him, but couldn’t control the sudden bombardment of her senses.
Everything in her felt alive for the first time in years.
But it was fear that held her back, that kept her from experiencing the true wonder of this situation. Fear that this would never last. She’d never experience this kind of comfort or joy. After tonight, she’d never see Magnus.
And she’d be alone.
Again.
Chapter Two
He felt her tremble as he led her into the dance. He worried she might be chilled.
“Are you cold?” He regretted not having a jacket to give to her. When he arrived at the restaurant this evening, he hadn’t planned on meeting her, or anyone like her. Despite what he’d told her, he’d given up his search for the woman who might save him.
“No, I’m fine,” she said, but he didn’t believe her. As they followed the soft beat of the music, he couldn’t stop thinking that she was so unhappy. It seemed to emanate from her skin like an aura glowing around her. He’d sensed her unhappiness the minute he walked into the room, and when he approached her, he’d hoped to bring a smile to her face. He barely achieved it.
For the first time in over two hundred years, this made him sad. Usually, women took one look at him, his handsome face and fine physique, and were falling all over him. He’d gotten used to their reaction. When this woman first spotted him, she had the same star-struck vision in her eyes, and he assumed she’d be like all the rest.
But that had changed as they spoke. She wasn’t immediately trying to bed him as the others had attempted. She seemed to genuinely want to talk, to have someone to converse with and someone to listen. It was nice talking with her.
He felt her tremble again, so he tightened his arms ever so slightly, hoping to give her some warmth that his body could provide. He felt her stiffen at first but slowly relaxed against him.
He marveled at how different she was from the rest. Not just in looks. He couldn’t help admiring her features. She wasn’t a classic beauty, nor was she one he would have chosen for himself at first glance. To his utter shame.
She was pretty.
At first, he’d thought her hair was her best feature. The brilliance of the copper-gold strands seemed to ignite in the candlelight. But when he sat at the table and took time to study her features, he decided that he had been wrong with his first impression.
She wasn’t merely pretty. She was quite attractive. She had full lush lips and a rosy glow to her cheeks. He especially liked how the color crept in as she looked back at him.
Although her hair might be her best feature, her eyes were the most compelling. A green shade comparable to the darkest, deepest emerald ever unearthed. The depths of her eyes spoke volumes, for in them he could see her hidden pain and sadness.
It pierced his soul.
He felt drawn to her. To learn about her, study her, make her laugh. And for all that was holy, he wanted to see that blossoming blush remain in her cheeks. He wanted so desperately to see her smile. Even more, to see that smile reach her lovely eyes.
As Magnus danced, he realized how right she felt in his arms as if she belonged there.
If only it could be so…
For as much hope as he contained in his soul, his doubts were never far behind.
Was she the one? Or had his perception of women been so tainted and altered since his encounter with Melissande? Would he ever find the right woman?
Or was he forever doomed to this lonely existence?
The song ended. Wendy stepped out of his embrace. The cold that seeped into his skin felt impenetrable. He wanted nothing more than to pull her back to him, to keep his arms around her, to hold her if only for a bit longer.
“Thank you,” she said, a small smile lifting the corners of her mouth. “After tonight, I needed a little dancing to imp
rove my mood.”
“It was my pleasure. Would you care for another?”
She shook her head. “It’s late. I have an early start tomorrow. I’m only here for two days and then I head home. I better say good-night and get some sleep.”
He hoped his disappointment wasn’t too obvious, but his chest tightened with dismay.
“Are you certain?”
“Yes, but thanks again for taking the time to chat with me. You rescued a disastrous evening.”
He forced a smile. When she reached to shake hands, he brought her fingers to his lips, placing a chaste kiss against her silky skin.
Ah, there was the blush he so desired creeping into her cheeks again.
His body tightened at the visible reaction she had to him. Before he could muster any more excuses for her to remain, she was gone.
Magnus watched her move gracefully off the dance floor and out of the room. In his mind, he imagined her walking up the stairs to her room. He wondered how long she might lie awake in her bed thinking of him.
He grew hard at the thought.
Would she think of him? Would she dream of him?
He had to know.
But he couldn’t go to her now. He had much to think on, so he walked out of the room and into the gardens behind the restaurant. There he stood, considering the moonlit grounds, trying not to remember the last woman he’d brought here to seduce.
Seduction had been solely on his mind back then. Since that evening, he hoped his soul had grown.
He walked along the path that led through the gardens. In the spring, this area would thrive with life, flowers of all shapes and colors, bushes and shrubs and trees. Even in the winter, the garden held a quiet beauty. A sense of waiting, anticipation. One he’d felt for over two hundred years.
Magnus sighed as he turned onto the path to face the inn again and lifted his gaze to the second floor. He counted the windows until he found hers. Of course, he knew which room she was in. He’d seen her enter there earlier but hadn’t taken much note of her at the time. She’d been bundled in a warm coat against the chilly weather and had seemed flustered as she entered the room.