I run my shaver down my cheek and can’t stop grinning at my own reflection. I feel like the cat that ate all the cream when I remember how good it felt inside her, how eager she was for me. She was a virgin, but she was fucking fantastic in bed. The sex was, quite literally—mind-blowing, and I don’t use that term. Ever. Just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, it did. Much better. Shit, it’s never been that good with anyone.

Yeah, she’s something else.

Beautiful, funny, smart, a great dancer, and to top it all a heart of pure gold. I’ve known more than a few women who wanted to twist my stones because I wanted their bodies. When they landed on their ass outside my front door they found out: nobody has me by the short and curlies.

One thing for sure, she is the first woman I wished didn’t have to leave in the morning. I’d been up long before her. I knew I should wake her so she could get to that wedding on time, but I found myself unable to do it. How could I? When she was this sweet, peaceful angel lying in my arms, a little satisfied smile on her face, and snoring softly.

For all that adorable snoring though, she must have a backbone of steel to have resisted all the men who must have tried over the years, plus the social pressures around her, and remained a virgin all this time. Maybe that’s what is so fascinating about her. That unusual mixture of strength and vulnerability. I remember how she blushed when I called her beautiful. As if she didn’t quite believe me. Could she be so totally unaware of her own beauty? Most women with half her looks would be strutting their stuff morning, noon and night. She’s a breath of fresh air, for sure.

I realize I’m humming as I step into the shower. Since when do I hum? Then again, I’m never this damn happy. I’m so fucking happy I almost want to jump up and down on Oprah’s sofa. How absurd is that? As I lather up I kinda wish I didn’t have to wash the scent of her off my skin. I want to hold onto her for as long as I can, but life calls. The bizarre thought makes me laugh at myself.

I leave the bathroom and look at my phone. There is no missed call from her yet. Drying my hair with one hand, I open the photo I snapped of her at the club when she wasn’t paying attention. She was looking down at the table, tucking a chunk of hair behind her ear, and I couldn’t resist that unique aura of vulnerability and innocence around her.

Now I know why she looked innocent and fragile, but at that time, it intrigued me. Even now looking at her photo touches something in me and brings out my protective side. As if I need to shield her from the big bad world.

“What’s with you, man?” I say aloud, shaking my head. I’ve never been so soppy about a chick before. I click into my inbox. There’s an email from Ralph, the head of my stable, asking why I didn’t turn up last night. I fire back a quick reply, assuring him I’ll be back in the next couple of days.

Thoughts of her race through my head as I get dressed. My gaze falls on the room service menu and I smile to myself when I remember the way she laughed over my room service misstep. She took it well, though. And she has a nice laugh. Sexy.

I call Louis and arrange to meet up for lunch. I look out of the window. It’s a beautiful day. Instead of having breakfast at the hotel, I decide to walk over to the patisserie around the corner.

There are a few people standing in line at the bakery. A few of them look at me and I realize I must still be grinning to myself. It doesn’t bother me that much. Getting stared at is not a new thing for me. The gossip rags are notorious for spotting me at my worst and screaming about it for the world to see and hear. I wink at an old lady in a black dress who seems unable to take her eyes off me. She smiles and says, “Le monde est un bel endroit quand tu es amoureux.”

My French is iffy at best, but it sounds like, the world is beautiful when you are in love.

I’m not in love, but hell it sure feels good. I grin at her and tell the server I want to pay for her stuff. She wags her finger knowingly and laughs at me as she leaves with her baguette and baked goods.

I get a sandwich and coffee and go back out into the sunshine. The world seems beautiful. It’s definitely a good day for a wedding. I wonder what Izzy is doing as I walk down the sideway. I know it’s probably just an infatuation and it won’t last. I’ll eventually figure out she’s just a normal woman with all the pitfalls of a normal woman, but for now she’s all I can imagine wanting for the rest of my life.

I look at my watch. Less than eight hours before our date tonight. At this rate, I don’t know how I’ll be able to wait that long. I can’t get her out of my head. Who’d have thought I would be actually looking forward this much to a night with a girl? Never happened before. I bite into my thickly filled baguette and I hope my concentration kicks in before I get to Louis’s place, because right now I’m on Planet Izzy.

My phone buzzes and my first thought is: my missed call from Izzy, but when I see Liam’s name on the ID, I smile … and the day just got better. It’s like he knows when I need him to bounce off. He’ll understand. I laughed at him when he got together with Vanessa, but he just smiled knowingly and said one day I’d understand. He’s probably the only friend I have who would not take the piss out of me for getting hooked on a girl after one night.

I hit the green button on my screen. “You fucking fell off the face of the Earth, man. Where the hell have you been?” I ask with a laugh. I wait to hear his snarky comeback, but there isn’t one. Instead, I hear a strange sniffling sound. “What’s up, bro? Are you sick?” I ask warily.

“Tyson?” A woman’s voice, thick with tears.

Just like that, my blood runs cold.