Straight from the Heart (Loveswept)
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Straight from the Heart (Loveswept)
His eyebrows shot up. She pulled her hand away and winced inwardly. Rebecca resisted an urge to tug at his sleeve. Vatan expecting me? What building is this?
Does the company have offices here too? Good day, Ms. Toting her soft leather satchel and feeling a little foolish, she went inside the office building and found an elevator. She saw office , but found no name beside it. A knot of dread and bewilderment grew in her stomach on the short ride up.
The door opened into the small lobby of a single suite. She stepped out slowly, studying the heavy double doors facing the elevator. They had ornate brass handles in the form of curving snakes and were inset with glistening lacquered red panels. The effect was exotic and forbidding. Her heart began pounding as if the doors hid a hungry tiger. There were still tigers in the mountains of northern Thailand, she recalled. Rebecca smiled tightly.
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She went to the doors and knocked firmly. The sudden loud thudding of footsteps on the other side made her eardrum ache, and she winced. Throwing a hand up to her ear, she nervously fiddled with the volume. As the footsteps halted and the doors clicked open, she scooted the control in the wrong direction.
A high-pitched electronic squeal zapped her ear. And the first thing the tall, darkly glorious male vision saw was her grabbing her right ear frantically, while her purse fell off her left shoulder and slid past the scuffed brown satchel hanging from her left hand, then fell by her left foot, where, in her haste to grab the purse, she lost her balance and stepped on it. Rebecca was too stunned by the man standing in the doorway to be deeply embarrassed; her clownish lack of grace was a dearly prized part of who she was, as essential as her sense of humor. It kept her world a little off-center, and made her career as a cartoonist successful.
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She simply drew the world the way she lived. Besides, this man made embarrassment the least of her worries. Kash was having the same difficulty with her. Rebecca Brown peered up at him from under feathery brunette bangs, while one hand clutched oddly at her right ear and the other wrestled a white purse from under her white sandal.
But if her actions were strange, her neat white blouse and long cotton skirt were the height of unremarkable tourist attire.
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Then she flashed him a cheerful, if tentative, grin that turned her face into a merry invitation to smile back, and she straightened, apparently not embarrassed by whatever the hell it was she had been doing or its results. She was slender, but her figure was not the least bit boyish. He realized that he was giving her the kind of slow, head-to-toe assessment that he never gave a woman, because it lacked subtlety and respect.
Rebecca managed to keep smiling even when the object of her friendliness lost his surprised, somewhat benign expression and looked her up and down as if calculating whether he wanted to undress her with his eyes.
That look—as much as she resented it—had a hypnotic effect, making her knees weak and her muscles feel heavy. Where did he belong? Where was he from? I came here to see Mayura Vatan. It gave his voice an elegant lilt. She scrutinized him with her head tilted to the left side, to catch each nuance of tone with her good ear.
Kash cursed her strange response silently. It was exasperating and put him on the defensive. He stepped back and swept an arm toward the room.
My name is Santelli. Kashadlin Santelli, Ms. You could have gone on meeting unimportant executives for a long time before you accomplished your goal. But please, come inside, where we can discuss this further. He seemed to be pointing straight at a thick red sofa strewn with beautiful pillows. His unusual name, Kashadlin Santelli, kept revolving in her mind and distracting her. He was at least six inches taller than she, and that added to his aura of command. She bristled at the way he ma de requests sound like orders. Richly embroidered drapes covered the windows.
Her stomach twisted with apprehension, but also anticipation. Good Lord, the man was playing some kind of mind game with her. She stopped in the middle of the room and stood rigidly. She hoped she looked resolute.
She refused to glance back over her shoulder to watch him, but every hair on her neck stood on end. She pictured the imaginary tiger prowling up to her and—Stop it, she ordered herself silently. When he cupped her elbow, she felt the heat of his palm radiate through her whole body. And he was suddenly so close that she smelled the faint, clovelike scent of his cologne, along with the more subtle scents of fine cloth and freshly showered masculine skin.
See details for delivery est. Pictures are of the item you are buying. See details. New other : lowest price. About this product Product Information From a 1 "New York Times" bestselling author comes this powerful novel of passion, heartbreak, and redemption--a story that celebrates the capacity to love one time, for all time, even in the face of adversity and change.
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