Three Wishes(15)

People were staring at the two men who obviously, by the look of their tailored suits, stylish silk ties, expensive shoes and gleaming watches, not to mention the chauffer-driven Rolls Royce, actually shopped at Harrods rather than visited as a tourist attraction.

Then again people often stared at Nate and most of these people were women.

He was uncommonly, one could even say impossibly, handsome. Very tall, lean, narrow-hipped, broad-shouldered with a wealth of thick, black hair that had just the barest blue sheen to make it interesting. He had strong features, a firm jaw, powerful cheekbones and a sensual lower lip. He also had glittering, dark eyes that although he didn’t know it (and wouldn’t have cared if he did), were the avid topic of many women he knew. Fights even broke out, were his eyes so grey they were nearly black or were they so blue they were nearly black? After much discussion, no answer was deemed acceptable so the battle raged on.

Nate’s sensual lips thinned at Victor’s words. He knew Laura wanted him to marry and settle down, give her grandchildren. But he was also relatively certain she didn’t want him to do it with Georgia.

“I’m not asking Georgia to marry me,” Nate stated firmly.

“Why not?” Victor asked and then went on. “She’s a damned fine woman.”

She was not a damned fine woman. She was a she-cat. She was nearly as bad as Danielle, if that could be credited. He’d caught Georgia snapping her birth control pills into the toilet, so he’d meticulously worn condoms. Then he’d caught her putting holes in the condoms, so he’d stopped ha**ng s*x with her altogether and began the weary process of scraping her off.

He should never have dipped his foot in the family pool. Georgia was Laura and Victor’s best friends’ daughter. Nate even liked Georgia’s parents, had known them for years.

They all had high hopes but Georgia was history.

She’d worked hard at gaining Nate’s attention, she was leggy, slender with beautiful auburn hair and she’d always been somewhat amusing in a dry, catty way.

Therefore, Nate had rewarded her for her dogged pursuit of him. And she had rewarded him for rewarding her. As good as it was with her, and it was good, it wasn’t going to last a lifetime.

Nate knew that innately. She had too much venom in her and she let it show too often. Nate had no patience for venomous women, especially those who grew up having everything, wanting for nothing and having no reason to be the slightest bit harsh considering the privileged life they’d led.

Nate didn’t know what he wanted but whatever it was, it certainly was not Georgia.

He was saved from answering Victor when he spied a youth wearing a grey hooded sweatshirt, the hood worn up even though it was a warm day. The boy was slouching down the pavement, head bowed, hands in the front pocket of the sweatshirt, his head swinging this way and that, looking for his mark.

Nate’s guard, already on alert, always on alert, went into overdrive.

Nate’s eyes narrowed as he watched the youth and Victor started to get into the Rolls. Then, as expected, the boy darted at his target and Nate heard a woman’s outraged cry.

“Hey!” she yelled.

He watched the boy snatch the woman’s purse, his body tensing for action.

And then his eyes moved to the woman and, uncharacteristically, he froze.

“Hey! He stole my purse! Stop him, he stole my purse!” she shouted.

Nate vaguely registered she was an American tourist. Nate also absently noticed that no one moved to assist.

In that brief moment in time, Nate was too busy drinking in the vision that was her, he himself didn’t move a muscle.

She was tall, incredibly tall.

And curvy, delectably curvy.

She had the most unusual coloured hair. Hair that he knew from vast experience living in a house with Laura and Danielle for years came through a supremely talented and expensive stylist’s hands.

She had an exquisite face, flawless skin and a bearing that was extraordinary. She had been given a wide berth around her even on the crowded pavement. Not because she was screaming her head off but instead because she was majestic, radiant, elegant…

Untouchable.

In a stupor from simply looking at her, the boy with her purse charged right by Nate.

Not in a stupor, she realised no one was going to help her, gave up screaming and charged right after the boy.

At the noise, Victor turned away from the car and Nate shifted to watch in astonishment as she deftly and agilely dodged the crowd, her long legs a match for the short boy. Then Nate watched in stunned surprise as she jumped onto the thief’s back with a graceful leap.

Everyone stared in shock but no one lifted a finger except a few started to snap photographs.

“Give me back my purse, you thug!” she shouted, wrapping her long legs around her prey, one arm around his neck while she slapped him around the head with the other hand.

The thief staggered back then he staggered with intent and slammed her against the side of the building. Her head snapped back and cracked against the stone so loudly Nate could hear it from where he stood twenty paces away.

At the sound Nate jerked out of his stupor and forged forward.

“Nathaniel…” Victor called but Nate ignored him.

Regardless of the blow, she wasn’t done fighting and had not eased her grip.

“Give it ba –” she started to scream but didn’t finish.