He'd been fascinated enough when he'd seen her. No one would dispute that she was beautiful, and the way she carried herself... like a Queen. He had almost been too shy to follow her, but once he was certain she wasn't aware of his presence, he found himself being bolder. She'd stepped into the room and he'd hesitated again, but perhaps one more glimpse...

She turned and looked at him, but he was rooted to the spot where he stood. Couldn't run, couldn't speak. Her eyes were staring into his, not through him but into him, as though seeking out his soul. And he stared back, beyond fascinated, now utterly mystified. Why should a woman as perfect as she is ever look at him like that?

He nearly melted at her touch. His mouth opened, but he couldn't speak. He raised a hand near her face, but stopped just short of touching her. He was afraid.