…Lamenting the dire conditions of unpaid bills, a know-it-all father, no options, and a hungry cat at home, she ran straight into some guy on the sidewalk.
Damn, he was tall. She stepped back, rubbing her forehead where it had bounced off his sternum. Good thing she was hard-headed. She was about to ask him if he was made of iron, but then she made the mistake of looking up, and up, into vivid blue eyes. There was something unnatural about him.
She took a step back. “Sorry,” she said.
Catherine peeled her hair off her face to see him better. He was beautiful, in an ethereal kind of way. He smelled good too, not that she could name the scent. He had long brown hair, tied back, and a trim—obviously—hard body. As if that wasn’t enough, he had a new beard, just scruffy enough to make her lose her way in hopes that he might find it for her.
Then he smiled, and she really was lost. “My pleasure,” he said…
Darcy Branwyn 
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