****
“Miss? MISS? I asked you for a black coffee, not green tea.”
Idling near the far end of the beverage bar at The Coffee Castle, Sarah shrugged as she regarded one of her regular customers—an older, silver-haired gentleman who always seemed just a bit annoyed at one thing or another—with a slight, vacant grin.
“Well, green tea does have caffeine, much like the beverage you originally ordered,” she reasoned, adding as she reached quickly for the nearest coffeemaker, “Sorry about that, sir; one black coffee, coming right up!”
Once the chagrined customer took leave of her coffee bar, Sarah took up a nearby dishrag and polished the bar’s mahogany surface, all the while daydreaming about the prince of a man who seemed determined to occupy her every waking thought.
For what seemed like the umpteenth time that evening, she found herself reliving every last moment of her date with Gabriel. She heard his deep melodic voice, she experienced his succulent kiss, she felt his big strong arms around her; and through it all, she repeatedly asked herself the same probing question.
“When will I see him again?” she said aloud at one point. “He promised that he would return to me, but when?”
Just then, she froze as she felt the heat of a sudden, penetrating gaze, one that seemed to sear through to her very soul as her heart pounded in response.
“It has to be him,” she reasoned, taking a deep sustaining breath as she jolted her head upward. “Who else would have this effect on me?”
Her question was answered moments later, as her gaze collided with that of a gorgeous man who seemed like something out of a dream.
“Two in one week?” she queried, arching a single eyebrow in a show of keen curiosity. “What the….”
All coherent thought scattered moments later, as Sarah’s errant gaze perused the perfection of the man who sat just across the room.
Boasting a tall and muscular frame, the stranger had long luxurious ebony hair that fell past his shoulders, framing a bronzed chiseled face with carved cheekbones, full lips and wide dark eyes—eyes that now seem riveted on her as he tipped his coffee cup straight in her direction.
Lifting her hand to greet her apparent admirer with a broad friendly wave, Sarah seared him with a dreamy smile; her heart pounding as she felt an immediate connection to the handsome stranger before her.
Responding in the affirmative, he immediately rose upward from his seat and made smooth, slow strides straight in her direction.
Soon she found herself face to face with yet another creature of fantasy; this one whose smile seemed more wicked than sweet.
“Good evening, Miss,” he said, his tone deep and sultry as he took her hand in his. “I suppose that if we’re going to sit around and stare at one another all night, we may at some point wish to know one another’s names.”
Opening her mouth to meet this obvious come on with some form of a saucy retort, Sarah found her speech stolen and breath suspended as emotion overcame her; an odd but not unpleasurable feeling of divine warmth that ran rampant through her entire being.
The moment that their hands clasped between them, an unmistakable electric current seemed to bind and link them as they shared a secret smile.
“I would call it fate,” she reasoned in silence, “but this is exactly the same feeling that grabbed a hold of me the moment I met Gabriel, just two days ago. What on earth is going on here?”
Her troubled meditation was disrupted by the sound of that sexy deep voice; one that again resounded as he kept a firm but gentle hold on her soft, fair-skinned hand.
“I must know your name, Miss,” he told her, squeezing her fingers tightly between his as he inclined his head sharply in her direction.
“Sarah Coleman,” Sarah supplied, inhaling the gentleman’s citrus-tinged scent as she lost himself in his ebony gaze. “And you are?”
“Lachan,” the man answered, tossing back his ebony mane in a sleek leonine flourish. “All evening, Miss Sarah Coleman, I have not been able to take my eyes or my mind off of you. And I have been wondering just how to get your attention. After some consideration, I do believe I have the answer.”
Leaving her with these cryptic words, the dark-haired stranger took leave of the bar and headed for the corner of the café, approaching the shiny ruby red jukebox that supplied some needed atmosphere at The Coffee Castle.
Slipping a shiny coin through the slot of the jukebox and pushing a button on its illuminated menu, Lachan stood still for a moment as he stared over his shoulder at his awestruck—if just a bit perplexed—spectator.
“What is this guy all about?” she pondered, squinting confused as he refused to budge an inch from the corner of the jukebox. “Don’t tell me he’s going to attempt an off-key rendition of ‘You’ve Lost that Lovin’ Feeling’ or ‘Hello’ by Adele.”
She gaped outright seconds later, as—in lieu of a sentimental, time-honored love song—the opening strains of the immortal chestnut “Bolero” by Ravel resounded through the cafe.
“One of my favorite compositions,” Sarah pursed her lips, adding on a suspended breath, “How did he know?”
Her thoughts scattered as her mysterious customer launched his strong muscled body into a smooth seductive dance; flexing the muscles of his hard, massive chest through the threads of his fitted white shirt.
The mysterious dancer held her gaze as he gyrated his hips, thrusting blatantly in her direction as she blushed in response. Her gaze remained fixed on his taut, toned body as he writhed and slithered in time with the music, narrowing his smoky eyed gaze in blatant seduction as he pinned a watching Sarah with a piercing stare.
As much as she tried, she could not tear her gaze from the source of her temptation; her eyes lingering on his rock-hard pecs and gyrating hips, the washboard abs that rolled for her pleasure as he tossed his mane of thick ebony hair with reckless abandon.
When the song ended, a grinning Lachan approached the coffee bar and ordered a cappuccino, taking a seat at the bar as he asked his server, “So what do you think, Ms. Coleman? Did you enjoy the show?”
Sarah smiled.
“Indeed, I did,” she admitted. “You have quite the talent there,” she paused here, pursing her lips curious as she added, “And Bolero—well, it never fails to put me in a certain mood.”
His answering chuckle, deep and sensual, sent tingles down her spine.
“Well if you’d like to see more, my lady,” Lachan purred, “then why don’t you come see me after your shift? I am here in town for one night only. And, frankly, I can think of no better way to spend it than to fulfill your every need and desire and make all of your fantasies come true.”
Sarah froze, biting her lip hard as an unbidden wave of red hot desire coursed wildly throughout her entire being. Am I dreaming? she wondered. Somehow the events of the last few hours, the last few days even, just didn’t seem real.
It’s all so much better than real, she pondered, grinning in spite of herself as the handsome stranger pressed a shiny golden key tightly into her palm.
“I’m staying at the Plaza Hotel downtown,” he whispered, “Room 18. Feel free to let yourself in, as I really don’t feel comfortable answering the door in the nude.”
Gaping outright at this bold assertion, Sarah watched wordlessly as Lachan left her with a wink and a smile, turning for the door as the women in attendance collectively begged him not to leave.
A few of them are even linking hands and forming a human barrier in front of the door, she noted with amusement, slipping her key into her apron pocket.
“That guy was so freaking hot! Did you notice the tattoo on his upper arm?” one of the ladies commented. “It was a dragon.”
Sarah gaped, staring at her oblivious customer in the face of this assertion.
“A dragon,” she repeated.
And once again, she was lost in dreams.