Page 24 of Perfume Girl

I drew in a sharp breath at his flirty goodbye. A way to keep me thinking of him long after we’d parted, no doubt.

I knew this man’s work, or at least his colognes. Each scent lured a woman in with the promise of forbidden love infused with danger.

That was Astor’s brand.

This wasn’t the time to ask him about my perfume. Here, he clearly had the upper hand and I wasn’t willing to have him send me away forever.

I needed more time to strategize. Take what I had learned and methodically weave a plan that would see my formula returned to me. Everything in my being told me he had it.

I turned to thank him for his time but no words came; I was too struck by the knowing look of confidence on his face—and that dazzling grin. I thought I might drown in the alpha pheromones he was giving off.

“I’ll personally review your application,” he said.

Work for him? Hell, no. Never going to happen.

I climbed into my Alpha Romeo and Astor shut my door like the gentleman he’d promised to be. He stepped away as I started the engine.

I backed my car slowly away from the brick wall, a reminder to both of us of my dramatic arrival.

Easing down the gravel driveway, I glanced in my rearview mirror to see him standing where I’d left him—tall and dashing and dangerously addictive.

Something told me the intensity of Astor’s aura would stay with me long after we’d parted.

IT HAD BEEN A WEEKsince I’d seen Astor at Bridgestone, and he was still haunting my every conscious thought. It was his cologne, I reasoned. A spell like that can last for days.

It had nothing to do with true feelings at all—it was all chemistry and pure science. Somehow I’d let myself get caught in the crosshairs of an East Coast playboy. Time…that’s what was needed here, along with a good deal of distraction.

Moroccan rose and passion fruit bath salts would lift my spirits—and this tall glass of sparkling Perrier with a dash of lemon would help take my mind offhim.

I slipped into the warm bath water trying to clear my mind. The heat soaked into my bones and brought on a wave of relaxation. This kind of self-care had been missing from my life for quite a while, and it was such an easy gift to give myself.

I glanced out the window and noticed the rain had ceased, which meant the sun would be out soon and brightening up the place again. I slipped farther down in the tub and welcomed a rush of luxurious contentment.

This upper floor wasn’t strictly home. When Damien and I had parted ways we’d left our cozy home in Dunedin. He’d flown into the loving arms of Embry and I had ended up in this cold loft with no heat. Luckily, the climate was favorable most of the time and when it wasn’t I had a portable heater.

It was a decent-sized loft that sat conveniently above my store, and though I’d never planned on living up here, it had all the amenities I needed to get by. My store was one of a row of shops that had once been terraces. This room had been scheduled to be gutted with the next wave of improvements, which never came. And though I had searched for a new place to live, I’d resigned myself to saving every last cent I could manage so this had become my temporary home.

A far cry from Astor’s place on the waterfront. No doubt my loft would be the equivalent of a cupboard in that vast manor. I wondered who else lived there.

I’ll probably never know.

I needed to retrieve my perfume from The House of Beauregard as soon as possible. Then, I would return to the offices of Dazzle and Bazaar and hopefully get at least thirty thousand dollars for my creation. Not a lot, but enough to get me into a new store that was more affordable.

I couldn’t keep myself from thinking about Bridgestone again, and the stables where Astor had pressed his body against mine.

I wouldn’t have kissed him—at all.

I cupped one of my breasts, letting the feeling of just how much I hated that man wash over me as my fingers languidly played with my clit. Pleasure saturated my senses and my back arched, shudders wracking my body as a delicious climax surged through me.

My thoughts returned to Astor’s jodhpurs…

I yanked my hand out of the water and reached for my glass of Perrier, taking a cold gulp of reality. Settling back and closing my eyes, I tried to think of something mundane and pleasant.

He really did have a lovely horse.

Fuck Astor Beauregard and those muscular thighs that no doubt squeezed you through an everlasting orgasm.

This wasn’t going to work.