Man of My Dreams by Sherrilyn Kenyon

Author:Sherrilyn Kenyon
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Penguin USA, Inc.
Published: 2011-02-28T14:28:20.828000+00:00

Chapter Two

LUCY glanced over at the passenger seat of her Chevy Blazer, where the attaché sat, looking as superior as a piece of luggage could possibly look. She’d had a crisis of conscience this morning when she woke up. She couldn’t give the case to Frederick as a gift. What was she supposed to do, pretend it was from her? She had to return it, but to whom?

Hopefully the clerk at Blanchard’s would be able to hunt down the man who gave it to her and make arrangements to return it to him. Then Lucy could get on with her life. As it was, she hadn’t thought about much else since the incident happened—and she had plenty of other things to think about. Maybe her period was due. She’d been feeling a little puffy, and that would explain why she was so flighty and distracted. If anything about her was sparkling at this point, it was her overstimulated nervous system. She just wanted to give the briefcase back and be done with it.

The digital clock on the dash said nine A.M. as she let herself out of the car and grabbed the attaché, along with the bag it came in. The mall had just opened, and the lot was nearly empty so things looked good for getting in and out quickly.

She had meetings stacked up with staff, as well as clients, plus an appointment with the wedding planner this morning.

She tugged down the skirt of her summery cotton sheath. Mid-September was a little late in the year to be wearing a blue and white plaid sleeveless dress, but the Indian summer weather called for it. The news that morning had forecasted mideighties, which sent Lucy straight to her closet, looking for something that said California girl and endless summer. Her shoulder-length auburn tresses and milky skin didn’t exactly scream beach bunny—and the white T-strap high heel sandals she’d chosen were definitely not her usual work shoes, but they did amazing things for her calves.

Okay, confession time. It had occurred to her that she might run into him again. Actually, it would make things easier if she did. She could thank him politely, return the briefcase in person, and be on her way. No explanations necessary beyond that. The extra care with her outfit and her makeup was a little harder to rationalize, so she didn’t try. It might even have given her some satisfaction to rivet that man’s attention, even for an eyeblink. He’d certainly riveted hers.

The heels slowed her down. They weren’t stilettos, but she wasn’t used to the height or the clicking sound they made when she tried to hurry. Awkward going, to say the least. Once she got herself to the store, she explained her situation to the young male clerk at the counter, who called out the store manager. But neither could help her. Blanchard’s didn’t give out personal information on customers, the manager told her, and that particular customer had paid cash, so he couldn’t be contacted.

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