The woman’s back was to him, but Alex could tell by the elegant way she held herself—the upswept dark hair above the graceful slope of her neck and high fashion clothing—that she had a great deal of class; very polished and chic.

She turned angrily against her agitator, the words rushing from her mouth in protest to the man’s hand on her arm. Alex caught sight of her profile and a long expanse of leg above a sexy stiletto shoe, and instantly he knew who she was. She was flawless, and his breath caught in his throat, his memory rushing back to that day six months ago in the Home Depot. This had to be fate.

Unthinking, he moved forward, and Darian spoke up to stop him. “Alex, she won’t want us to intrude. She can handle herself.”

Alex paused briefly. “Is that Angel?” His eyes narrowed at the realization of their real purpose being here. Darian gave a slight nod, though Alex didn’t really need confirmation. “I’m not going to stand here and watch that bastard manhandle her,” he said firmly and continued his trek toward the table.

“Listen, Oscar Meyer, I don’t have a wit of interest here. I would suggest that you take your hand off of me immediately, or I’ll be forced to waste this perfectly good drink by dumping it all over your sorry ass!”

Alex smiled because he couldn’t help himself. That voice. And even though Angel was pissed and on the defensive, she was incredibly funny. Her breathtaking features were bored, her voice flat and devoid of emotion.

“Come on baby…” the man whined, still not willing to give up. “Just one drink? What do you have to lose?”

“My self-respect, and quite possibly, my lunch,” Angel retorted, her anger finally filtering into her tone as she forcibly lifted the man’s hand from where it rested on her sleeve.

Alex pulled the chair out on her left, and when she glanced up at him, he finally had full view of her face.

Jesus fucking Christ, she is beautiful! he thought.

Porcelain skin, deep red lips, high cheekbones, delicate nose, and those eyes… he could drown in those eyes and be completely happy to do so. The one time he’d seen her when her warm chocolate eyes left their indelible stamp on him, she wasn’t made-up, but still amazing. Now… Holy hell, he could barely breathe. He’d never been so intensely or immediately affected by a woman in his life. Based on Darian’s description, he reluctantly acknowledged she’d be stunning and more. Before he ever laid eyes on her, he’d known that she was going to shake him to his very core, and now to realize she was the one image he’d struggled to forget and who most likely made distancing from Whitney inevitable.

Angel’s shocked eyes widened as she looked into his beautiful face and recognition shot through her. What was he doing here? His dark green eyes were mesmerizing as they locked with hers; a soft, confident smirk on his masculine mouth; his wild mane of hair was lightly mussed, like someone had run their hands through it a hundred times. The top buttons on his white shirt were open and there wasn’t a tie, but he was dressed in a navy blue suit. Armani, if Angel’s trained eye pegged it. He was tall like she remembered, with broad shoulders that tapered to a narrow waist shown off by the expensively tailored shirt. Based on the home improvement project, his appearance now was certainly a conundrum. Something inside Angel stirred at his nearness and everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. Her mouth dropped open to speak just as Alex gathered his composure and sat down next to her.

“Sorry I’m late, honey,” he said smoothly, a small smile gracing his full lips. “Rough day at the office.”

“Uh…” Angel just looked at him while his hand settled on the back of her chair. The other man, clearly taken aback by Alex’s presence, finally let go of her arm.

Alex leaned forward, closer to Angel, so he could speak to the man on her opposite side, and she was assaulted by the clean, male scent of him highlighted by expensive cologne, even as her eyes were still unable to look away from his face.

“As you can see, the lady is otherwise engaged. I’m not amused that you’re hitting on my girl. Touch her again, so help me God, I will pull your balls out through your nostrils. Understand?” Alex’s tone was quiet and level, as if he were doing nothing more than ordering breakfast. He waited as the man’s mouth dropped open to speak, but finally nodding in mute silence. “Good. Please excuse us. Immediately.” His voice oozed over her skin like warm honey, and she felt a sudden familiarity. That voice. His tone was biting, but still like silk, and the monkey-man rapidly stood to leave them alone. Angel smiled and bit her lip, praying that she wouldn’t burst out laughing.

“I’m sorry. She never said she wasn’t available. You’re a very lucky man.”

Angel’s heart thumped in her chest as she listened, unable to move a muscle as the scene unfolded before her. It was completely ridiculous. This dark-haired Adonis was a stranger, simply stepping in to help her with an annoying problem, and nothing more… but there was a part of her that wondered what it would be like to really be his girl. She’d wondered about those green eyes on multiple occasions, but now to put that voice in this man… could it really be?

“Too true. If I were you, I’d learn that when a woman says ‘no’, that’s what she damn well means.” Alex’s eyes hardened and then softened when he looked back into Angel’s eyes as a giggle burst from her chest while the man retreated. “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t let that continue. Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

She shook her head, still laughing softly. “No, I’m fine, thank you. I was about to throw my drink on him.”

“Yes, I heard. Very amusing. I almost let you, just so I could watch.” They sat for a few seconds, just looking at each other, neither one able to tear their eyes off of the other. “It would have served the bastard right.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Angel caught a glimpse of Darian just as Becca was coming back to the table after finishing her song, clearly checking out the two men. “Oh, I have to speak with…”

Angel stopped and looked from one man to the other, realization of why the voice rang familiar and who the man sitting next to her was, quickly dawning on her. Her happiness at seeing him again soured as his identity hit her square in the face. Her brow dropped and her mouth set into a firm line.

Fucking Darian. What the hell is he playing at? She was overcome with disappointment and fury.

“Hey, Angel.” Darian greeted her, but she said nothing for a few seconds, silently seething in her seat.

“Darian, you asshole!” she said finally. “And, Alexander, I presume?” she asked astutely. “Whitney’s Alexander?” Her mouth compressed further and the perfection of the last minutes evaporated into thin air.

“Not anymore.” Alex winked. “How could I resist the opportunity to meet the woman responsible?”

Angel’s mind cranked around the question… did he realize she was the girl from the paint department that day? If he didn’t, she wouldn’t be the one to point it out. The situation was already embarrassing enough.

Becca’s eyebrows shot up and her lips pursed. “Oh, shit,” she said as she sat down across from Angel. She searched her best friend’s expression trying to determine if she was going to stand up and walk out.

“Oh, let’s give credit where credit is due,” Angel scoffed angrily. “From what I understand, the ruin of the relationship rests solely on your pompous shoulders. I did nothing more than validate her decision to cut her losses. It’s obvious you only think of yourself. I mean, here you are, when I made it clear that I didn’t want to speak with you beyond the call the other night, right?”

“Angel, it was—” Darian began but Alex held up a hand to silence him, shooting him a look.

“An error in judgment; nothing more.” Alex smiled slyly, which only infuriated Angel further. “I thought you deserved another chance.” She sat fuming as he shrugged out of his jacket and hung it over the back of his chair, then unbuttoned his shirt sleeves and began slowly rolling them up, exposing a good portion of his lightly tanned forearms. Angel could easily see the strength as the material tightened over his muscular frame as he moved, and his authoritative demeanor made her pulse speed up.

Becca cleared her throat. “Oh, shit,” she murmured again under her breath, and Darian turned toward her.

“That’s an understatement. I’m Darian, by the way. Angel works with me at Kiss FM.”

Becca smiled, biting her lip as Alex and Angel continued their volatile banter. Darian lifted his arm to signal the waitress as a middle-aged man with a large paunch took to the stage and began rendering a painful version of New York, New York.

“Yes, I know who you are. I’m Becca James. It’s very nice to meet you.”

“I believe it is you, who had the error in judgment, Mr—?” Angel turned decidedly bitchy, her tone harder. She had certainly regained control.

“Avery, but please, call me Alex.”

“Well, Mr. Avery, thank you for your, um… interference a few moments ago but I believe I have some business to discuss with Darian.” Her eyes shot to the other man. “What the hell were you thinking bringing him here? Did you really need to talk to me about the show or is this some sick joke?”

Darian didn’t answer right away because the waitress was at the table, and he was ordering a round of drinks. When he did, his tone was blasé.

“Angel, are you dying? Is this a catastrophe? And yes, I do have some things to discuss with you, but we can do that at the station.”