Read The Dryad in Her Pool Online
Authors: Allie Standifer
The Dryad in Her Pool (9 page)
Livia wouldn’t stand for it. She’d fought too hard and too long to get where she was. No man, regardless of how handsome and sexy, would be allowed to negate the woman she’d become.
So instead of smiling back as she was sure Mr. Stud expected, Livia turned her back and hurried into the darkened theatre.
* * * *
One week later
“It’s got to be in here somewhere.” Sighing, Livia dug further into her bag, looking for her missing dry cleaner’s receipt. If she didn’t need that dress for tonight’s date, she’d forget about it all together.
Sensing someone behind her, she scooted off to the side with a murmured, “Go ahead, please. My receipt seems to be hiding from me.”
Then she felt his presence.
“I don’t think anything is foolish enough to hide from you.” The dark, husky whisper sent a sensuous shiver down her spine.
Bam. Her not-quite lover or stalker once again stood close enough for her to touch. How and why did they continue running into each other?
“I…ah… Thank you?” She felt like a fool. What had the man said that he deserved to be thanked? Too lost in the colour of his eyes, Livia forgot what she’d been searching for and just stared.
She’d been right. His eyes weren’t an ordinary brown. They were the perfect colour of aged brandy, something she’d noticed before, but now they seemed so much more vivid. She wanted to drown in the intoxicating depths.
When the teenaged clerk cleared her throat, Livia’s head jerked. “I’m sorry, I seem to have misplaced my ticket.”
The girl gave her a bored look. “Why didn’t you just say so?” She turned her back to them dismissively. “What’s the number?” The clerk pulled out an ancient keyboard and waited, fingers poised, for the information.
Without thinking, Livia rattled off her cell number and waited for the rude teen to pull up her information. Why hadn’t the little twerp offered to do that in the first place?
“Got it.” She smirked and the black lip ring pulled tightly. Livia wanted to wince in sympathy, but managed to remain still. “Be back,” the clerk said, disappearing into the depths of the store.
“Think she came in head of her class at charm school?” the stranger asked, still too close for Livia’s comfort.
She muffled a laugh. “I’m sure she was the reigning queen of comportment.”
A tawny brow rose. “I’m almost afraid to tell her I lost my ticket,” he whispered in a conspiratorial manner.
“Blame it on me. She already thinks I’m the lowest of the low.”
She shouldn’t be talking with this man like this. Like they shared a secret or were close enough to share more than secrets. Maybe it was the way he made her feel, sexy and desired, without being cheap and tawdry.
What was she thinking? Didn’t she have a date that night with a very pleasant engineer? He was, after all, the sole reason Livia hadn’t given up on wrestling her clothes from the irritating child clerk.
“Don’t think I won’t,” he replied while his peppermint-scented breath wafted across her face. “But then you’ll have to let me make it up to you.”
“I—”
Whatever she’d been about to say was lost as the cranky clerk came back, Livia’s clothes with her.
“Here ya go.” The girl shoved the bundle at her, leaving Livia no choice but to grab the garment bags or have them end up on the floor.
“Claim check?” The girl had turned her black-lined gaze to the man and Livia took it as her chance to escape.
She whispered a quick, “Good luck,” before bolting out the door like some nineteenth century virgin miss. Colour flushed her cheeks as raced past the other customers waiting in line.
About the Author
I’ve been lucky enough to travel all over the world as a child. I experienced life through many different cultures and countries. No matter where I went stories would pop up in my mind. It took a while for me to figure out exactly what those tales were trying to tell me, but eventually I understood. Five years later I’m happily typing away to the tune of the voices in my head.
I’m addicted to anything to do with mythology, regardless of culture. I can be bribed with good coffee or Diet Coke. I will bore strangers to tears with pictures and stories of my fabulous nephews and nieces. Nothing like kids to keep you humble and honest, especially when they consider the plumber to have a cooler and more glamorous career than their aunt, the writer.
Email:
[email protected]
Allie loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at
http://www.total-e-bound.com
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Also by Allie Standifer
Club Botticelli: Ordering Olivia
Club Botticelli: Enticing Emma
Club Botticelli: Beguiling Briley
Club Botticelli: Teasing Trinity
Club Botticelli: Romancing Recee
Christmas Goes Camo: Trapped by Ice
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