Beauty and The Best (Once-Upon-A-Time Romance) by Judi Fennell

found an empty parking spot near the gangplank and Todd held out his hand as he, once again, opened the car door for her. “Ready?”
    “ As I’ll ever be.” She slid off the seat and something plopped on the pavement just as her feet did.
    “ Your book.” Todd bent to retrieve it. “Here, you better not lose this. How else will you find out if The Dashing Rogue lives happily-ever-after?”
    He was teasing and she was enjoying.
    And, yes, she did want to believe that, somehow, the dashing rogue would have his happily-ever-after.

 
     
     
    Chapter Eight
     
    Hurricane glass sconces lined the cherry-paneled walls of the interior dining room of The Midnight Maiden , the bulbs flickering like flames as the maitre d’ led them through a maze of little cherry wood tables on mauve carpeting, over to the stairs. Todd flourished his hand for her to precede him, so up she went, the wind kicking up as she exited the stairwell.
    Purple and orange rays of the waning sun bounced off skyscrapers onto the glittering water like a laser light show. A prop plane skimmed the riverbank, large yellow banner proclaiming the name of the sightseeing company that had recently started air tours of the city.
    “ Wow. The view is gorgeous.” She tried to keep her hair from blowing around, but gave up when a handful ended up clipping her in the eye. “I’ve never been on a boat before. I like this gentle rocking. Is it always like this? I guess I can see how this upsets some people’s tummies. But not mine.” At least not tonight. Please.
    Not that she was nervous or anything.
    “ Uh hmmm,” said the Man of Suddenly Few Words behind her.
    What happened to Mr. Chatty from the car?
    The maitre d’ unhooked a velvet rope at the bow of the boat and ushered them to the lone table there. Todd’s celebrity status came in handy.
    Or maybe he just paid a lot for the privacy.
    Guilt slithered down her spine, but she squashed it. No one would ever know he was the basis for her romance hero. No one. Why should they?
    The d’ held out her chair—darn. With Todd doing all the door holding, she’d kind of hoped he would’ve done it here, too. But beggars couldn’t be choosers— not that she was a beggar. Nor would she be. In no aspect of her life, job, housing, affection… nothing.
    Bringing home (again) the fact that Todd was a respected guest, a couple of elegant menus appeared as if by magic in front of them as the d’ himself started rattling off the spécialités . But Jolie wasn’t in any frame of mind to memorize stuff. The wind was ruffling Todd’s hair and the sun reflected off the water into those incredible eyes of his, highlighting the laugh lines at the corners.
    Why were they called laugh lines on guys and crow’s feet on women? Talk about inequality of the sexes.
    “ Jolie?”
    Could she—just once—stay on topic with the man around? “Yes?”
    “ Would you like an appetizer?”
    Oh. Food. She should be all over that, but found herself thinking about sparkling green eyes instead. Husky laughs and inside jokes. Broad shoulders and nicely-shaped pecs straining against cotton...
    And the inside of her mouth getting as dry as that cotton. And incapable of speech, too. Oh, for Pete’s sake!
    Luckily, there was a goblet of water on the table and she took a quick swallow, stopping just before a gulp. That would so not be attractive. ’Course she had to make a quick grab for the napkin to blot the corner of her mouth where the water wanted to make a reappearance. Honest to God, where was her composure?
    Finding it somewhere down near her knees, she pulled herself together and gave Todd a dazzling smile. At least, she hoped it was dazzling and not desperate. Or ditzy.
    “ You know, Todd, food’s my livelihood, so I’d rather not have to think about it. Why don’t you go ahead and choose for us.”
    Off went Mr. Maitre d’ with their drink orders and appetizer selections, whatever they were, and she was left with a