It started out as it usually did, first just the awareness that she wasn’t alone, then the itch under the skin that told her she was being watched.
When she finally dared look up, there he was—dark, brooding, scowling at her with those deep blue eyes—one brow raised as if he was surprised by what he saw. He didn’t approach her, but signed for his meal, rose, and—after giving her one more hot, glaring look—abruptly left the room. He moved like the sleek black panther she had seen at the Paris zoo, she thought.
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