And there, framed in the doorway like a figure carved from frost and fire, stood a man that was almost as tall as the door frame. He practically needed to lower his head—covered in dark close cropped hair that was loosened slightly around the ears—a bit in order to enter the shop.
His eyes which were the color of storm-cloud skies, skimmed the crowd before settling, unexpectedly, on Shantel.
And for the briefest of moments that his gaze was locked on Shantel, it softened but like a breeze, it disappeared almost immediately as it returned to the clueless crowd.
She froze mid-breath and couldn't help but take in the rich material of his dark coat which was unbuttoned just enough to hint at an equally high end tailored shirt beneath.
His presence was both commanding and intimidating, and as he strode forward, a hush fell over the store.
Every pair of eyes in the shop shifted in unison, following his movement.
