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butter cake looked delectable.
    She glanced around the small establishment and felt her knees nearly buckle. Across the way, sitting by a window, alone, was a man who made her lose her breath. Firm, kissable lips snagged her attention in the midst of his handsome aristocratic face. A face shadowed by a day of growth. Her belly rolled with desire. His hair, with its contrasting blond highlights, fell in delicious disarray. It was long enough to be pushed back over his ears and grace the back of his collar. Even from where she stood, she could see it was thick. For a brief second, she longed to delve her hands into its silky depths and pull his full mouth to hers.
    His eyes were waiting for hers, and they riveted on her with such intensity her heart skipped a few beats. They were the color of dark chocolate pudding. Smooth and full of endless promises. Fighting the urge to lick her lips, Cleo continued her perusal of the bakery as she waited for her order. Her palms were sweaty, and she deliberately turned her back on the mouthwatering specimen who sat behind her, staring at her.
    Kind of like the image in the tapestry did. He resembled that man, as well. Her body reacted in a similar way, only more intensely since this man watching her with such intent was flesh and blood. Not an image on a wall painting almost a millennium in age.
    Even now, as she faced the numerous pastry choices, she could still see the man. An indigo Henley shirt hugged the impressive chest. One long leg had been visible sticking out from the small table he’d been at and was covered in dark gray cargo pants with a black Nubuck Timberland boot. Squeezing her eyes shut against the vivid memory, she opened them to see the older gentleman holding out her order to her.
    “Thank you,” she said, taking the white butter cake with buttercream frosting and a light raspberry drizzle over it in one hand and the steaming coffee with her other one.
    “My pleasure, miss,” he answered with a thick accent.
    Flashing him a smile, she snuck a glance over her shoulder and noticed the blond man observing her. Nodding slightly at him, she then turned and walked to the other side of the business for a seat at a solitary table. Also by a window, but she was facing the man who continued to watch her.
    Picking up her fork, she cut off a piece of the moist cake and brought it to her waiting mouth. Her eyes closed in ecstasy as her teeth drew the decadent sweet off the prongs and settled it upon her tongue. Oh, sweet Jesus, this is good. The moan that snuck up on her barely got contained. The first thing she witnessed when she opened her eyes again was the blond giant staring at her lips.
    His tongue snuck out and teased his firm mouth. She imagined him licking the frosting off them, tasting what she did. Then, it became her licking the sweet frosting off his lips, which led to more things. Squirming on the vinyl seat, she forced her wayward thoughts back under control. Damn, this is as if I’ve been a year without a man. Calmly, she looked out the window beside her, determined not to allow him to see how much he was affecting her.
     
    Nik shook with the intensity of his desire. The stunning black woman sitting a few tables away portrayed herself as if she not only owned the very ground she walked on, but also the air she breathed. She was the queen of her domain, and yet, she didn’t seem to realize or care about her effect. It took every ounce of his control not to heave the small table to the side, stalk over there, and grab her into his arms in one whirlwind motion. Despite the tenseness in him, he smiled as he mused that, in another time, another place, it would have been so. She would already know she belongs to me.
    Forcing his hand to relax, he uncurled his fingers from the handle of the fork. He watched her eyes as she opened them from her first taste of her cake. They looked like dark velvet and unfocused as she swallowed her bite. Then, as she realized he still