Page 19

Finally.

Fingers grabbed his forearm, shattering his trance. He glanced down at Mindy, her brows furrowed as she followed his gaze, then turned back to him. “Hey, what’s wrong?” Her eyes flicked toward Rihanna, but she kept her head steadily toward him. “Do you know her?”

Before he could answer, the woman who haunted his nights and days dropped her basket and rushed from the store.

Bryce bolted after her. Fuck professionalism. She was the root of his sanity. He wouldn’t lose her again. Not after all this time. Not until he understood who she was and why he couldn’t get herout of his head.

The winter air couldn’t cut through the heat that intensified along his muscles as he shoved through the door to stand on the sidewalk. He pinpointed Rihanna as she hurried across the parking lot, her heels clicking the pavement in rapid succession. The streetlamp spread its harsh white glow over the cars, over her, like a sheet of ice.

“Wait!” he called, sprinting forward. An alarm disengaged from a dark Jaguar a few spots down, the lights flashing. She continued toward the car without looking back. “Wait!”

He caught up to her and somehow maneuvered around her brisk steps, forcing her to stop as he blocked her path. She stumbled, nearly crashing into him, but he caught her by the shoulders and steadied her on her feet.

An overwhelming surge of rightness shot through him from his fingers.

The scar scalded his skin, causing him to wince as he pulled his hand back and looked at the angry red mark. With a firm shake, he dropped his arm and met her gaze. The same violet eyes from six months ago brimmed with a mixture ofgrief and delight as she stared back at him. A sultry sweetness enveloped his senses, suffusing his lungs with her familiar scent. The icy wind whipped her waist-length black hair across her body like a dark cape, silky strands caressing his hands. A powerful urge to sink his fingers into her hair nearly crippled him.

“Rihanna,” he breathed.

She stared at him, silent, her eyes alone expressing what he doubted words could master. He, too, found himself speechless as he took in every inch of her gorgeous face. Every soft, angular curve and delicate feature. The exotic slant of her eyes framed by thick black lashes and gentle sloping brows. A narrow, sharp nose, lips that he desperately wanted to kiss and determine for himself whether she was the woman from his dreams.

She is. There’s no doubt in my mind.

Before he could stop himself, he lifted one hand from her shoulder and traced the point of her ear. A faint gasp escaped her lips, but he saw the small motion of her head as she started to lean into his touch before catching herself.

“You left,” he whispered.

“Do you chase all customers who leave without making a purchase?”

Her voice. A musical lilt that cast a spell on him. Just like in his dreams. Just like the night at the club. He had to fight back the familiarity he felt with her, the desire to draw her close, hold her tight, kiss her like his will to live depended on her. He desperately wanted to drink her in, look her over head-to-toe, but refrained. The last thing he wanted was to scare her away.

He lowered his hand from her ear and cleared his throat.

“No. Only the woman who ran from me twice with no explanation.” He glanced at the store. Through the window,he could see Mindy tossing him glances while she spoke with a customer. When he turned back to Rihanna, the first hint of a smile teased the corner of her mouth. “You ran the night at the club and I’ve hated not knowing if I’d ever see you again.”

“Nightclubs are an ideal meeting ground for strangers never to cross paths again.”

He curled his fingers into his palms to refrain from touching her. “What do you say when strangers meet again? Under different circumstances and on different grounds?”

To his surprise, and delight, she stepped closer. His body melted when her fingers brushed across his knuckles, then slipped between his curled fingers. Slowly, without ever breaking their gazes, she traced the line of his birthmark. Traced it so slowly, so intimately, that his dream flashed in his mind and his soul screamed that, without a doubt, he could not be without this woman a heartbeat longer.

His soul mate.

What did she call them in the dream?

Ahh, yes.

“Anam cara,” he whispered.

Rihanna paused, her lips parting. Surprise flashed in her eyes, but quickly dimmed as she smiled timidly. “’Tis from a long time ago.”

He splayed his fingers, allowing her to trace the mark without obstacle. The path of the mark heated without scalding his skin as it had in the store. Her touch soothed the ache, the burn, suffusing his hand with a powerful heat of an entirely different kind. “Still, you remember,” she said.

He caught her finger, her hand, before she had a chance to pull away. Gently, he ran his thumb over the delicate bumps of her knuckles, watching her eyes glow, her pupils widen, and finally, a fine mist of moisture enhance every detail.

“Don’t disappear, Rihanna. Not again.” He lifted her hand to his chest, encasing it between his palms. “Please.”

“You’re another woman’s pride in this lifetime. Not mine.”