
Jon’s face would have been Adonis-perfect, if not for the French nose, but his skin was Irish-clear, the hair a Nordic dark blond. His eyebrows had a hint of an Italian slant, the chin and bones a Germanic tough cut. And no, Jon couldn’t possibly have all those heritages, but that was the point. He was a universal hunk. Take all the parts, and the whole appealed to any and every woman’s fantasy…except for hers, of course. Sophie figured she was the only woman who ever felt completely safe around him, because there wasn’t a prayer in the universe he’d notice her. Not that way.
Now, though, her heart finally stopped hammering. The longer she scrutinized the intruder in the doorway, the more she realized this was no ghost.
He did look like Jon-amazingly like Jon-but there were interesting differences. This guy’s hair was blond, but darker than Jon’s, more whiskey-gold, all wind-riled-up, and longish. His legs were encased in cords-Jon never wore that nature of casual pants-and these were well-worn cords besides. The chin was scruffy, where Jon never left the house without fresh-shaved cheeks and an expensive aftershave.
And Jon had never once made her pulse bounce like a hormonal puppy…yet this man did. Sophie ignored the tickle of awareness, because she was obviously having a highly emotional week, and her judgment couldn’t be trusted.
While Sophie was giving herself a mental slap upside the head, though, the other women were sizing him up as if they’d just discovered a sale at Bloomingdale’s.
The man was looking over the women just as sharply and intensely. His gaze roamed from one to the other like a bee checking out pollen-except for her. He spotted her sitting on the steps. His attention just immediately passed by her. No surprise there.
All three brunettes were gorgeous, but even besides that, Sophie knew men never noticed her. It was the same reason she’d been safe as a church with Jon. A woman didn’t wear oversize coats and big bags and gloppy hats for nothing. Sophie knew perfectly well she was ignorable.
