Chapter 3By the time Owen finally said his goodnight, the bar crowd had started to thin out. If he’d been back in New York, he’d have probably already found himself a little company for the night. As it was, he was looking forward to crawling into bed. He’d save the book and wine for his long Sunday.
The story of Elizabeth Wells had been worth the detour, though. Even if it hadn’t been his original reason for following Findley into the bar. Or maybe because of it. Owen could have looked at Findley Black all night. The pink blush of his mouth against his fair complexion, the crystal blue of his eyes, even his golden-tipped eyelashes had been mesmerizing. The man was beautiful.
Owen could already hear Findley laughing with someone else. Someone from his tour? Gwen? If the man had a brain i
