confusion was entirely too cute for such a gruff guy.
“More ambivalent really.”
The bell on the front door jangled, and Jacqui leaned around the aisle to spot Max returning from his dinner break. Good. She could turn this customer over to him before she tanked a potential sale or embarrassed herself further.
“Hey, Max,” she called, waving him down.
“I’ll be right out,” he said before ducking into the back area.
Which left her with Mr. Gruff.
She turned back to him, taking the offensive. “I’m Jacqui by the way.” She held out her hand just to see if he’d take it.
“Jacqui,” he mimicked, her name rolling off his tongue in a low rumble that tumbled down her spine in a warm caress. His large palm engulfed her hand in a gentle hold. “Henrik. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
And there was the gentleman again.
The heat of his hold fed up her arm to entrap her as she sorted through the varying facets of the man. “Henrik,” she repeated automatically, a smile spreading. “It’s a pleasure to meet you too.”
The intensity of his gaze stole the last of her breath. There was something sad in his eyes. Deep and hurting that called out to the wounded part of her that understood pain. His story was intense, whatever it was.
“Okay.” Max’s call boomed over their heads, breaking the moment. “I’m back.”
Right. Jacqui stepped away, belatedly ending her contact with the puzzle of a man. Henrik. German or Scandinavian?
Max appeared at the end of the aisle, dark bangs flopping over his brow to cover most of one eye. “Do you need me for something?”
It took her a moment to think through his question. Apparently her brain needed a shot of caffeine to keep up with the conversation.
“Yeah,” she croaked out before clearing her throat. “Could you help Henrik? He was interested in looking at guitars.”
“Sure—”
“That’s okay,” Henrik cut off Max’s response, his frown carving a deep groove in his forehead. “I’m good.”
“No.” Guilt twisted in Jacqui’s chest. She stepped into Henrik’s personal space and ignored the confused look Max shot her. She pitched her voice low in an attempt to keep her words private. “Now I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you in any way. My directness gets me in trouble. But please, look at the guitars. Buy one if you want, or don’t. Just don’t leave because I was being forward and blunt.”
Her hand had come to rest on his forearm during her plea, and he glanced down to where she touched him. Again heat seemed to radiate out to ignite a scorching flash of desire straight to her sex, but she squelched the urge to jerk her hand away now that he’d called attention to it.
There was a spark in his eyes when he lifted his head, the green shining brighter with what could only be mischief. “What if I want you to sell me a guitar?”
Oh? Her brow lifted, but she managed to hold back her smile. “You do know that guitars are all I’m selling, right?”
“Of course.”
Her throat had gone dry and she swallowed to force moisture down it. “Good.”
He wet his lips and leaned in. “Now that we got that settled, how about you show me those guitars?”
How about she do that? After all, that was her job. What she really wanted to do was climb his powerful body and show him exactly what he could do with the cockiness that’d crept into his tone. For some strange reason, it both excited and annoyed her. And that was a sure sign it was time for a tactful retreat.
“I’d love to.” She plastered on a sweet smile and made a show of looking at her wrist where a watch should be but wasn’t. “But it’s time for my break. I’m so sorry.” She stepped back, smile holding. “My associate Max here is more than capable of answering any questions you may have.”
Or maybe not so tactful. Hell. His ego would deal and if she screwed the sale, she’d make up the loss on another one. No one would know anyway. Well, Max was shooting her a big-eyed shocked expression, but he wouldn’t say anything to the owner—hopefully.
She made a sharp turn and retreated around the corner before Henrik could respond. She was done playing his game, whatever it was. There was a latte calling her name and a twenty-minute break that would allow her enough time to gobble down her tuna sandwich if the line wasn’t too long at the coffee shop.
Mr.