Trouble

1. Audrey

One

Audrey

I’ve generally always seen myself as on the right path, job-wise, but if there was ever a time I’d regretted my choice of career, it was today.

“Sonuvabitch!”

My screech echoed across Potters Fields Park, making a cluster of pigeons take flight. I windmilled desperately to avoid face-planting into the deep puddle on the pavement that I’d attempted—and failed—to jump across in my three-inch heels.

My feet skidded out, but I managed to right myself at the last second—and heard the distinct snap of my right heel breaking underneath me, followed by a splash as I stepped heavily into the water, soaking my foot to the ankle.

Yup, today I would have traded my years of university and corporate ladder-climbing for a nice, trainer-wearing shop floor job. Bet I could have made the jump if I hadn’t been forced to climb into these ridiculous stilts!

I limped out of the puddle, aware that my broken heel and defeated disposition made me resemble the hunchback of Notre Dame. The fifty-page report from my briefcase had gone flying across the path. A couple of pages were in the damn puddle, and the rest seemed busy soaking up the wet London grime covering the pavement.

I gave them a miserable look. Apparently I wouldn’t just be late for my morning meeting now—I’d also be presenting the clients with waterlogged paperwork.

Smashing.

“You all right there, love?”

I jolted at the amused, masculine voice that sounded right behind me.

“Yes, I’m f*****g fantastic,” I hissed at whoever thought it was a great idea to do a drive-by mocking. Instead of giving the perpetrator any more of my attention, I tried to limp a step to the side to grab at my fleeing report and managed to stumble on my broken heel and re-soak my foot in the puddle once again.

“Jesus f**k!”

“Hang on, I’ve got you,” the same voice said, this time with a full laugh. A male figure bent from behind me, easily snatching up several pages. When he took a couple more steps down the path to gather the rest of my flighty report, I saw he was wearing jog pants, trainers and a tight vest that showed off wide shoulders and strong arms.

Clearly a health nut. Great.

“Here you go,” he said as he turned around, holding out the smudged pages to me. “Not sure they’re all salvageable, though.”

I opened my mouth to thank him, but as my fingertips grazed over his warm hand, I looked up into his face—and promptly lost all ability to control my tongue.

“Huh… ank… s.” I was vaguely aware that the noise I’d produced didn’t much resemble human speech, but most of my focus was pulled toward his eyes.

They were a startling, silvery gray, but what captured my attention so completely wasn’t the color—it was the warm mirth dancing in them, pulling at me like a magnet. His gaze was so completely filled with life, it made the rest of the world seem dull and mute by comparison.

He had a chiseled jaw and the kind of facial features a runway model would kill for, crowned by a shock of red hair, but mainly I just couldn’t stop staring at those amazing eyes.

“Happy to help.” The slight sardonic note to his voice made it clear he was fully aware of my open-mouthed staring. It was enough to finally break the spell, and I flushed beet-red when I realized what I’d been doing.

“S-sorry, I should get going,” I muttered, pulling away from him. The distance gave me a new view of his broad shoulders and—holy hell, he was definitely in good shape, the way those pecs and abs practically strained against his vest. Wow, men hadn’t looked like that when I’d last dated, that’s for sure…

“See something you like, love?”

I took a step further back, mortified at the wry grin on his full lips. He’d clearly caught my gaze sweeping up and down his body.

I squeaked out a weird little sound that was supposed to be ‘thanks for the help’ but sounded more like a trapped mouse, and spun around to flee.

Only I’d forgotten about my broken heel, and the next second, I was flailing wildly in a desperate attempt at not face-planting on the pavement.

“Whoa, steady there.” Large hands gripped my shoulders, pulling me safely upright and turning me back around.

The redhead sank down in a crouch in front of me and pulled out what looked distinctly like a zip-tie from his pocket. “Give me your foot, darling.”

Too mortified to do anything but obey, I did what he asked while attempting to keep my balance on one leg.

“You can lean on me,” he said without taking his eyes off my shoe, probably because I was wobbling unsteadily above him on my high heel.

I didn’t want to, but I also didn’t want to fall on my arse, so I awkwardly placed my fingertips against his ginger mane to steady myself while I tried to pretend I didn’t see the amused looks from passersby.

Nothing to see here, people, just a woman in a business suit, making a complete t**t out of herself.

I glanced down at the young man kneeling in front of me. He seemed fully focused on my foot, and I briefly wondered what kind of obsessed handyman had zip-ties in his jog pants.

Handyman, complete Adonis, kind helper of strangers. If he’d been a decade older, he’d have been my dream guy.

But he’s not, you absolute p*****t, I mentally scolded myself. He looked to be several years my junior, and I wasn’t exactly some hot blooded cougar.

The only thing that got close to my lady parts these days was my trusty Magic Wand.

Just as the words Magic Wand flashed through my head, the young man looked up with that wicked smile curving his lips, as if the knew what sort of thoughts were running rampant through my head.

“There you go, that should hold you through the day.”

I blinked and looked down at my shoe. He’d looped the zip-tie around the heel and secured it around the sole, managing to stabilize it completely.

“Wow,” I muttered, momentarily shaken out of my embarrassment by complete awe of his MacGyver skills. “Thank you so, so much. You’re an absolute life-saver.”

“Happy to help a pretty lady,” he said, giving me a friendly wink.

Only, he was still crouched down in front of me, and that wink made me realize his face was right in front of my crotch.

Oh, God!

“I, um, h-have to get to work. Thanks again!”

This time, my shoe supported me perfectly when I spun around to flee.