CHAPTER 3
Nash
I rounded the corner to my street in the West Village, looking up at the trees that were peppered with lights.
My street was peaceful, unlike the rest of New York at this time of night.
The air was perfect, the night a success, and I was ready to tuck into my study with the PERL and a glass of bourbon.
I closed my eyes, sighing.
A sharp bark was my only warning as I collided with something dark and small—more like two somethings.
A rope of some kind found its way around my knees.
I hobbled, almost dropping the gym bag over my shoulder.
There was another animated, almost conversational series of barks and a soft female yelp before I could piece together what had happened.
“Shit, Bill,” the feminine voice hissed out. “Sorry”.
I looked down, towering over a tiny figure and a very animated and excited black and white Border Collie.
“It’s all right,” I said, chuckling, assuming this was a teen girl and their dog out for a walk—a dog who was very interested in my gym bag.
The outgoing pooch hopped up to sniff it, tongue wagging and licking like his life depended on it. I swung the bag further behind me, trying to get it away from the curious dog’s roaming snout. The last thing I needed was to be ousted by this creature.
Calming the dog with my hand on his neck, I tried to untangle myself. As I did this, I smacked the girl in the face with my wayward elbow. The black hood of her sweatshirt toppled back as she let out a squeak of pain.
Alarmed, I jerked up and looked her in the eye. “I’m so sorr—” I froze on the spot. This was not a teen girl. This was a woman.
Stunning crystal-blue eyes of the most amazing color cut right through me. They were a vivid tropical ocean of depth. Glittering like sunlight on water under the streetlight. I’d never seen anything like it.
I took a sharp intake of breath and toppled back. The leash burned across my exposed forearm. I swore before righting myself.
A delicate perfume, light and floral, hinted at her presence. This was an exquisite woman, and my starved male body knew it.
Fuck.
Platinum, almost silver, hair cascaded around her face and cheeks. Long, thick eyelashes, pale, almost ethereal skin. She practically glowed.
She wore a well-loved oversized black hoodie and black leggings that hid her beauty.
The hoodie hung loose, swallowing her frame.
Faded and stained black fabric brushed against her skin with every movement.
The worn cotton looked comforting. Her leggings seemed to flow from her legs, and with every clumsy step, her Converse sneakers scratched against the sidewalk.
She dressed in a youthful style I rarely associated with women of her maturity.
Most women in this neighborhood wore polished loungewear—like Lululemon, or some shit.
That, or very expensive designer clothing, no matter the hour.
This woman dressed like a teen from downtown in a basic department store sweatshirt.
It looked amazing on her.
I was staring like an idiot. Her gaze dropped from mine, leaving me hollow. Blinking a few times, I tried to regroup, but struggled.
Something inside me wanted to fold her up in my arms and find a couch somewhere we could cuddle.
This urge to draw her close, the sensation of her form molding against mine, the warmth radiating from her body—it was primal and unbidden.
It suggested a longing for the comfort of shared space, something I didn’t freely enjoy with any woman.
She broke my trance with a delayed hiss of pain. “Ouch.” Touching her cheek, she prodded it with delicate fingers.
From what I could guess, this tiny figment of my imagination was somewhere in her mid-twenties.
“Are you okay?” I reached out, my hand begging to touch her skin.
“Excuse me.” She evaded my reach. She was an escape artist, stepping over the leash and out of the tangle with ease.
“Are you all right?” I tried again, louder this time.
“I’m fine,” she whispered, pulling her hood back up and hiding herself under it.
“Are you sure?” I wasn’t giving up, this time keeping my hands to myself. I forced them into the pockets of my gym shorts, hoping that made her more comfortable.
Free from the leash, I lowered my head, peering around the massive hood, unable to help myself. I wanted another look at those brilliant eyes and needed to make sure my idiot elbow didn’t leave a lingering mark.
She nodded. “I’m sure.” She gathered the leash and reeled her dog back toward her, despite his tireless efforts to reach me.
“Do you live around here? Can I get you some ice?” I kept pushing, as is my nature.
The hood shook. “No,” the small, melodic voice assured. She was starting to sound annoyed. “I just need to get past you?” She gestured in the direction I’d come from.
I stood straight, feeling dumb.
Women rarely enjoyed being approached by strangers at two AM on the streets of New York, let alone getting asked where they live. I was terrifying her.
“Right, sorry. I just wanted to be sure I didn’t hurt you.”
“Really, I’m good,” she rushed out, bringing up a sleeve-covered hand as if to physically stop me from asking yet again.
I caught another brief glimpse of her face as she chanced a look up. Both her cheeks were red now, either from a blush, or my stupidity, I wasn’t sure.
Damn, I couldn’t help it; it was impossible to look away.
She glanced down.
This was not your typical straightforward New Yorker.
I could feel the air of panic billow out around this little thing.
Her dog’s attitude had changed, eyeing me more warily.
Dogs were smart; Border Collies among the smartest. It was probable that he could smell her fear, and his protective instincts were kicking in, demonstrated by a low but angry whine escaping his jaw.
Dammit, I was messing this up.
“Okay.” I put my hands up and backed away. “I really didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, let alone assault you. I’m—” I trailed off, taking another dramatic step back and to the side, toward the street. “I’ll let you go.”
Retreat was my only option.
Her coral-colored lips parted, a gentle breath escaping and fogging the cool fall air.
I couldn’t see her eyes, but I knew they were tracking me as I gave her a wide berth. It felt like circling a stray cat—a beautiful, mysterious stray cat I didn’t want to frighten away.
Taking another measured step back, I noticed how the streetlight framed her silhouette. I held tight to the shape of her. I was so panicked that I’d never see her again, but there was nothing more I could do to stop her.