Love's Not Terrifying Page 0,3

club rip through the air to hit the ball with a mighty whack. His follow through was perfect and she got to see the play of muscles again as the club swung over the opposite shoulder.

She knew she should be watching where the ball was heading, but her eyes were glued to the man and his incredible body. No other man had ever affected her in such a way and she was helpless in her fascination.

The three other men shook their heads and patted him on his back, obviously congratulating him on his shot. The four of them headed over to the two golf carts, then sped off down the fairway.

Alana finally took a breath when she couldn’t see him anymore, then glanced around her to see if anyone had noticed her staring at the man. Thankfully the patio was empty at this time of the day. She pulled her bottle of water to her mouth and drank thirstily, replenishing the liquids she’d lost in her tennis practice, and because her mouth had been hanging open for that small period of time.

Alana grimaced and turned her back on the now empty golf course. Heading back to her car, she mentally reviewed her schedule. Glancing at her watch, she realized she’d spent at least ten minutes watching the mystery man, she picked up her step.

Chapter 2

Walking into the beautifully decorated executive offices of ATI Incorporated several days later was a daunting experience for Alana. As much as she believed in her cause, she really hated the fundraising part of the job. She wished she didn’t have to go begging for money to fund the orphanages and the programs they needed in order to help the kids. She didn’t understand why everyone didn’t understand what a worthy cause these children were and donate their money without her having to ask for it.

Getting off the elevator and making her way down a subtly lit hallway lined with dark green carpeting that muffled her steps, Alana gave herself a pep talk. She reminded herself that the kids were a great group but no one knew their needs. It was up to her to raise the funding for the projects the kids desperately needed.

“Alana Mason to see Salvatore Attracelli,” she said calmly to the first receptionist she came to.

The receptionist behind a large, curving desk ran a tapered fingernail slowly down a sheet filled with names, then finally nodded. “Mr. Attracelli is expecting you, Ms. Mason. His office is the last one on the right. It is just past the conference room,” she explained, pointing in the general direction of another long hallway.

“Thank you,” Alana said and smiled her thanks. Alana continued down the hallway, taking deep breaths in an effort to calm down. She really hated these kinds of appointments. She felt like a beggar.

But it was the only way to keep the funds flowing.

“Good afternoon, Ms. Mason,” a courteous female voice greeted Alana from the doorway. “Mr. Attracelli is running slightly behind. Would you mind waiting just a moment?” she asked. Alana located the body that was attached to the voice and smiled at the woman who appeared to be in her mid forties, with horn rimmed glasses, a perfectly tailored, black wool suit and one inch heels. She seemed to be a very efficient, no-nonsense kind of woman. Alana made a mental note of the kind of woman Salvatorre Attracelli preferred for a secretary. She used that kind of information to set the tone for her presentation.

“No problem,” Alana replied and took a seat in one of the chairs outside a large office and conference room. The walls of the conference room were glass so she had an unfettered view of the occupants. She was trying not to eaves drop, but the man inside instantly captured her attention with his deep voice and she was unable to tear her gaze away.

It was the golfer, she thought. She had a clear view of his back and she recognized the broad shoulders and was again mesmerized by the muscles rippling along their breadth. She could also see that his hair was a little too long, it curled along the edge of his collar. His tie was loose and his sleeves were rolled up. She watched with fascination at his hands as he motioned to another occupant to talk. He had long, slender fingers and well muscled forearms.

She didn’t hear what the other man was saying, too preoccupied with the golfer’s physique. This was definitely