Tempestuous

Frowning slightly, a tall, slender young man draped in a pale gray floor-length leather coat leaned over the counter, staring at the delicate fox mask locked under glass. His left hand was jammed in the pocket of his black dress-slacks, pulling his coat back and showing a dark gray sweater over broad chest and flat belly. His long platinum-blond hair, combed straight back from the deep peak of his brow and bound by a silver clasp into a long white tail, fell over his shoulder and spilled across the counter.

Rusty stared at the spill of pale hair and his heart slammed in his chest. He wiped his damp palms down his knee-length black apron. "You wanted to see me?"

The blonde turned. Warm cinnamon eyes framed in long black lashes peered at him from under straight dark brows. Sharp cheekbones and a strong jaw-line defined his aggressively masculine face, but the lush fullness of his mouth and the ivory-pale color of his skin belonged in a high-class modeling magazine.

His eyes widened. "My God…" The voice was soft, yet deep and very masculine. The lush lips rose to curve into a sinful smile. "I've been looking everywhere for you."

Rusty's stomach clenched in alarm. He knew that smile. He knew that face. It was the same one from his dream. But that couldn't be right… "Do I know you?"