Real Romance - By Ginny Baird Page 0,1

it. No matter what he tried to tell himself, there was something about the notion of a woman demanding a commitment that made him want to cut and run.

"Thanks," she said, accepting the paperwork along with the receipt. "I'll try to be more careful."

Then David realized she was running out on him. He panicked and stepped in front of her, blocking her sumptuous body with his broad frame.

"Is there something I've forgotten?" she asked, looking up with doe-like eyes.

It took every ounce of his strength not to reach out and touch her. Not to find some excuse to...

David's hands were halfway to the edge of her wire frames before he realized what he was doing and stopped short.

"Just wanted to make sure the fit's okay," David said, his hands motioning in the air surrounding Marie's shoulders.

Marie smiled shyly. "Couldn't be better," she answered, her voice an inexplicable squeak.

Up close, he smelled as good as he looked. All musky and exotic, like some forbidden, sensual body oil sold in the back room of a Moroccan bazaar.

Marie shook her head, thinking she should have known better than to read the last chapter of Arabian Lust over a donut at her ten-thirty coffee break. There was something about this man, this tall hunk of masculinity, that made her feel very female. Maybe it was his look which seemed to strip her down, made her entertain fantasies of a long, silk veil and a privately viewed belly dance—with an audience of only one.

A short breath escaped her, and Marie brought her palms to her cheeks which she knew were flaming red.

"Well, good," he said, looking deeply in her eyes. "Just as long as we're clear on that."

"Clear?" Marie asked, feeling as if she'd missed something.

"That the fit is right."

He smiled and all reason plummeted to her stocking-clad toes.

"You know, we offer an unconditional guarantee."

"I'll keep that in mind," she said, drawing her purse in at her side and turning quickly on her heels.

What was happening? Why in the world were her palms so sweaty and her legs trembling? Marie shot for the exit before her feet could give way.

She thanked him again for his help, then pushed her way out the door to the street. She breezed past the paper turkey hanging on the front glass wall of the eye doctor's office. Eye doctor, her foot. He was more like some kind of psychic. A seer who could look right through her... and into the deepest depths of her soul.

No, that was crazy! That sort of thing never happened. She'd only just laid eyes on him, for heaven's sake. So what if he had a body to die for, and a heart-stopping lopsided grin? So what if he'd asked her to lunch, indicating both his immediate interest and availability?

She was not available—that was the important part. Marie glanced down at the meager blue stone on her left hand that served as an engagement ring. One of these days, Cecil was going to save enough cash from serving lattes to buy her a real diamond... That would be shortly after he finally sold his book and hell froze over, she thought with a slow, sad smile.

She knew she should have more faith in Cecil, but, after five long years, it was getting hard. If only he weren't so faithful, it would have been a cinch to look for someone else. But the trouble with all those someone else's was that she wasn't good enough for them. Just like Paul, they'd nail her heart, then chase anything in a skirt.

Not Cecil. Good old, reliable, thirty-eight-year-old Cecil. Though he was only six years her senior, at times Marie swore he was pushing one hundred.

Marie found herself wondering briefly about the age of the optician. Though he was probably a little older than she, there was a vibrancy in his eyes that spoke of youthful vigor. Enduring vigor. A relentless, animalistic...

She stopped herself, shocked at where her mind was going. Right down to his form-fitting jeans and dockside loafers. Then back up again—past his rock-hard torso and unforgettable smile, to his unnerving, brilliant blue eyes.

No! She wouldn't do this! As she'd learned from her disastrous affair with Paul, animal attraction only went so far... before the other partner started monkeying around.

It was better this way. Better with Cecil. Though he might not be the most exciting man Marie had ever met, he was certainly the most dependable. Five years together and he hadn't cast a roving eye at