As the train heaved to a slow stop, Rachel waited for the heavy metal doors to slide open, and then she, along with around thirty other commuters, piled out of the narrow doorway.

Making her way onto the platform, she stuffed her hands into her blue wool coat, her arm clutching her bag to her side. With her earbuds still firmly in, the hustle and bustle were currently being drowned out by P!nk’s latest release.

Eyes down, she watched the pavement as she began exiting the station’s tunnel, moving farther away from the train. She was almost free from the main crush of people when her shoulder hit something solid—something in the form of another person.

Stopping, she looked up to apologize, and froze.

Right there in the middle of the chaotic station, she found herself staring up into the eyes of the man she knew only as Cole.

* * *

Cole couldn’t believe his luck. It seemed as though choosing the subway over the rush hour traffic had paid off.

As he stood there, gazing down at the raven-haired mystery who had a penchant for bright colors, he decided it was almost worth running late. Of all the people he could have run into in the city, running into her seemed somehow fitting, especially since he’d thought about her just the other day.

She was intriguing to him on so many levels.

He’d seen her only a handful of times—twice at Whipped and once again at her brother’s Halloween party, which Joshua had invited him to.

Oh, she didn’t know this would be their fourth crossing, but he did, and this time, she was not getting away so easily.

The first night he had seen her was when she had walked into the club in a short leather miniskirt. Cole had been convinced that if she were to cough, he would have caught a glimpse of everything she had to offer. She’d paired the skirt with a black leather bra and stiletto heels that could maim. And that had been it.

He remembered it perfectly as though it had happened last night and not months before.

He was sitting in one of the side booths, watching her as she stood there, fidgeting. He was contemplating the best way to approach her and persuade her to be his—well, for the night anyway.

However, as he sat there in quiet consideration, sizing up the woman who somehow caught everyone’s attention, he was shocked as hell when she walked over to the bar, sat down, and greeted Riley—a man everyone knew was a complete slut. In other words, he would do anything he was told, and he was not picky about who told him to do it.

That was not the shocking part though. What perplexed Cole was how he had misread her. Usually, he was much more astute than that, much more accurate in the people he was drawn to, but it was not that way with her.

He had pegged her as softer and more subdued in nature. She had presented herself that way with her nervousness, which was apparent by her fidgeting. Yet, the minute Riley was in front of her, those bare shoulders straightened as that wickedly tattooed spine stiffened, and Cole was officially intrigued.

“Excuse me,” she mumbled, brushing past him.

She was pretending she had no clue who he was. Shaking his head, Cole rounded on his feet to follow her, forgetting all about catching the train.

Hmm, the woman certainly has a love of leather. From under her bright blue coat, he could see tight black leather pants molded to her thighs and calves before they stopped just above her anklebone. Her dark hair was shifting against the blue wool as she walked, and he found himself staring at the tips of her hair that were currently the same shade as her coat.

She seemed to feel his eyes on her—Hell, that’s not surprising since I can’t tear them away—because she stopped when she reached a small clearing. She quickly moved to the side, spinning on her black flats to face him.

Bracing himself, Cole stuffed his hands into his own wool coat and waited. Oh yeah, here we go. Bring it on.

* * *

Rachel hit pause on her music, removed the earbuds and turned to tell Cole yet again, Thanks, but no thanks. That was the plan anyway until she looked up and locked eyes with his hazel ones, and then all her thoughts left her brain. What is it about this guy?

She’d only seen him a couple of times, and in each of those moments, she had felt such a pull to him that she had tucked tail and run, much like she wanted to do right now.

Maybe it was because he was always so put together, and now was certainly no exception. Dressed in a long black, perfectly tailored wool coat with what she could only assume was an equally expensive suit of some kind underneath, he projected cool, calm sophistication. He exuded confidence.

“Are you stalking me now?” Rachel flippantly asked with a forced smile.

She watched as he lifted his hands and pushed them into his coat pockets, drawing her eyes down his tall body. Damn, even his shoes are shiny!

“Not at all,” he replied, his voice deep and his words clipped. He was a man who said exactly what he thought. “Stalking would imply premeditation. This was more a spur-of-the-moment decision.”

“To follow me?” she clarified.

He nodded once in assent as she noticed his serious mouth tilt at the corner.

“Yes, to follow you.”

Rachel finally allowed her eyes to move over him.

Yes, okay, he really is incredibly hot. Most would call him handsome or attractive, but as she stood there, looking up into his eyes, the blazing heat she saw staring back at her screamed one thing: Hot! Sizzling, scorching, set-you-on-fire hot.

Determined to end this and forget about the dirty-blond hair, the hot hazel eyes, and the perfectly tailored suit, Rachel ordered herself to relax and move on.

“That’s just ridiculous.”

“Not really,” he pointed out. “Trust me. I’ve met stalkers, and this is not stalking.”

Rolling her eyes at the absurdity of the conversation, Rachel internally slapped herself. She knew he wasn’t stalking her, but she couldn’t make her stupid brain think anything else. He had rendered her mute, which was currently annoying the shit out of her.

When he stepped closer, Rachel also found that he had the superpower to freeze her where she stood because she was suddenly incapable of moving. She stood still, entranced as he removed a hand from his pocket, reached out, and touched a blue strand of hair that was blowing by her cheek.

“You look different outside of work,” he observed.

Rachel frowned as she tilted her head to the side. “I’ve never seen you at Exquisite while I’ve been working.”

He moved, taking one more step toward her, so they were almost touching. As he leaned down slightly, he replied, “No, not there.”

Blinking up at him, Rachel shook her head. “Well, you must have me mistaken for someone else because I know I have never seen you in the flower shop.”

Right there in the middle of the damn train station, she could feel her breathing accelerate, and she was starting to think this guy was weaving spells.

He lowered his face another inch closer to hers. “No, not there either.”

For one insane and anticipatory moment, Rachel thought he was going to kiss her. God help me, I want him to.

However, at the last moment, he moved his head to the side so when he turned, his mouth intimately brushed her ear, causing a shiver to run straight up Rachel’s spine.

“I mean, at the place where you put on a uniform and play a part. I mean, at Whipped.”

Rachel slowly turned her head, narrowing her eyes at the man who was now an inch from her face. How is he making the crowded tunnel feel as though it has emptied out and we are the only two standing here?

“Excuse me?” were the only words Rachel could seem to find and project.

“You see, Rachel—”

Oh god, the way my name sounds rolling off his tongue and slipping past those seriously lickable lips…

“The coat is a nice touch, but I’m sure if you took it off and threw a few stern words around, then maybe, just maybe, Riley would recognize you.”

Now that coming from his mouth reminded her of exactly who he was and how he knew her. Rachel got her ass in gear and took a step back, squaring her shoulders. “Well, as lovely as this has been, I’m already running late.”

She turned, ready to walk away with her dignity still somewhat intact, when his parting line reached her ears and made her blood boil.

“Yes, tardiness is really not something to be proud of. It shows such a lack of dedication to your destination.”

Twirling on the ball of her foot, Rachel took a step back toward the arrogant, infuriating wall of a man and tilted up her chin to him in a way that told him she was not running or backing down. “As far as I’m aware, I didn’t ask you to give an opinion.”

Those calculating eyes focused on her as he dipped his head, acknowledging her response. “You’re right.”

Rachel waited for a moment, sensing another annoying comment was about to come out of his mouth. Instead though, he stuck his hand in his coat pocket and pulled out something wrapped in white wax paper.

Is that candy? she thought as he methodically unwrapped it.

Keeping her eyes on his hands that were so dexterous she felt hypnotized, Rachel felt dazed when he pulled the candy from the wrapper and brought it up to his mouth, pushing it in between those fantasy-inspiring lips. Without a word, he refolded the wrapper. He didn’t ball it up or crinkle it; he folded it perfectly before pushing it back into his pocket.