The man had made it to the door, but she still could not see his face. However, there was something familiar about him. When he opened the door and stepped into the lobby area, the light illuminated his features, and she recognized him immediately. Her heart began to beat faster, and blood rushed through her veins causing her whole body to grow warm.
He was absolutely gorgeous. Rachel had thought so the first time she had seen him, and a second look did nothing to change that opinion. His hair was jet black and glossy. The dark waves that covered his head were currently wet with the residue from the sleet but were usually thick and shiny. His face was classic perfection. The forehead was wide and smooth. He had prominent cheekbones and a strong chin. His eyes were a cold winter gray and just as chilling. They were framed with thick dark lashes and set under dark straight eyebrows. His lips were full, and when stretched into a smile, they revealed smooth, even teeth.
Rachel had only seen him really smile once, but it had been devastating. It was possible she had only seen him smile once because she had only seen him once before today; however, she doubted it. He did not seem the type of man to smile like that often. Half smiles, polite smiles perhaps but not the full devastating smile she had seen. He typically presented a solemn and thoughtful façade, but that day he had smiled at Victoria which was hard not to do.
Rachel smiled herself just thinking about Victoria. Victoria Carson, soon to be Moore, had to be the reason the man was here, standing in her library. Victoria and Andrew Moore were getting married in a little over a week, and he was in the wedding. He was tall, standing a little over six feet. His build was a sculptor's dream. His shoulders were broad, and he had a muscular chest that tapered to his waist. He had a flat stomach and strong, lean legs. He was dressed in a suit that had never been on a rack. It was cut to fit him like a glove. The double-breasted jacket emphasized his broad shoulders, and Rachel knew the shirt was silk. The black overcoat was cashmere, and the shoes on his feet were real leather and handmade. Everything about him screamed wealth and success.
His name was Paul Hart. Rachel knew he had wealth, and a lot of it. She also knew he had success, again a lot of it. She had a small crush on him. It reminded her of the time in high school when she had thought she was in love with the current Hollywood heartthrob. It was unrealistic and impractical but still fun to dream. He was a man totally out of her league, and yet, he fascinated her like no man ever had.