Dangerous Stranger - Piper Stone Page 0,12

a glorious Spanish man.

Or any man for that matter.

My sudden unbridled desire had everything to do with several of the art pieces hanging on the vibrantly splashed walls of the gallery. The paintings weren’t merely provocative in nature. They were highly erotic, stimulating in ways I hadn’t anticipated.

Rein it in, girl.

My inner voice was right. I was here to help out my favorite relative, not to engage in carnal activities of any kind.

“Are you... how do you say... alright?” The girl’s broken English was far better than I’d expected, and I was grateful given my Spanish was rusty and a good portion of the population spoke an entirely different language. At least she could be my interpreter for some of the customers. If there were any customers. In the week since I’d arrived, two people had come into the store, one couple absolutely horrified at the paintings. However, the entire experience was preferable to what I’d left behind, no matter the circumstances.

“I am perfect, Elena.” I sighed as I walked back to the small office, unable to take my eyes off the busy street through the window.

I’d never dreamed I would be able to work in such a gorgeous location in the world, even if I was scared out of my mind. I was in another country all by myself, suddenly responsible for the welfare of a beautiful galleria, something I’d never done before. While I’d studied art history, although with several other things in college, I was by no means some expert on either paintings or sculptures. And art of this nature? Um, not even close.

Yet my aunt had placed me in charge while going on what she called an extended holiday—honeymoon with her fifth husband to date. I laughed at the thought. Lucia Martina was a true free spirit, a woman after my own heart but definitely not my mother’s. I’d always found it hard to believe they were sisters, if only by blood, the women growing up in separate countries. My mother would have freaked out if she knew what Lucia was selling.

If only my mother was still alive. I glanced around the beautifully lit walls, the dozens of works of art almost comforting. At least I’d been close to my aunt, even visiting her in Spain once before.

But living here? Working here?

I was in way over my head, the attack aside. The area of town was far superior, dazzling in so many ways, yet I remained uncomfortable as hell, checking the locks on my aunt’s flat three times a night. I hated myself for doing so. She was the only family I had, and I’d do anything for her. I longed for a big family, the kind portrayed in Hallmark cards and Christmas movies. That wasn’t in the cards. This was the closest I was going to get to catching a glimpse of those longings.

Maybe I just needed a boost to keep me going in order to shove the sadness aside. This was a fresh start. Right?

“However,” I added. “I think it’s time for coffee. Would you like some coffee?” I grabbed my purse, already headed toward the door.

“Sure. Why not? You Americans and your love of coffee,” Elena huffed.

I had a love of the vibrant city and the romance surrounding the area, but in truth, I needed the caffeine to keep going. I’d been here almost a full week and merely trying to get my aunt’s books organized had driven me nearly bat shit crazy. How she’d made any money at all was beyond me.

As I walked outside, another eerie feeling swept through me, as if the same monster was hiding in one of the store alcoves. I’d had the same feeling every time I’d left the galleria, unable to get the vision of the dangerous stranger out of my mind.

Dark.

Demanding.

Delicious.

Jesus. I had to get my head out of my ass. There was no dark knight any more than there was one dressed in white.

The day was just as beautiful as the one before, the light breeze wafting dozens of scents in my direction. Including gasoline. There were hundreds of vehicles passing back and forth and while they were all compact, they still had powerful horns. Thank God my aunt’s flat was within walking distance. Renting a car at this point wasn’t an option. I preferred keeping the accident-free discount on my insurance.

As I headed toward the local café, what had become a new favorite haunt, I heard the whistles from at least two admirers,

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