Holiday With Mr. Right by Carlotte Ashwood

Chapter One
     
    Angie stepped out of the elevator and promptly tripped. For a fraction of a second she registered the fact that the bowl of Baskin Robbins ice cream wasn’t going to survive the fall before she bumped into something hard.
    “Oomph!”
    “I’ve got you.” The sexy tones reached down and caressed her as she felt strong, muscular arms encircle her, breaking her fall.
    The first thought Angie had was that her precious Baskin Robbins ice cream was saved. Close on the heels of that thought was how good the arms holding her felt. What was that scent? She inched closer so she could get another whiff. Hmmm, smelled like spice. There was a woodsy scent there too. And he definitely smelled like a man.
    She inhaled again and almost jumped when he let out a sexy chuckle. “I promise you, I wash regularly. I’ve even been known to take a shower on occasion.”
    Face flushed from embarrassment, Angie stiffened and realized she was still in his arms. She took a step back and felt strangely bereft when his arms fell away. “I’m sorry, I’m quite clumsy.” She was looking anywhere but at her rescuer, still trying to figure out why her pulse was racing.
    “Hey, no sweat. It was entirely my pleasure.”
    She lifted her head then and stared into the sparkling brown eyes of her next door neighbor. Her face rearranged into a frown. They had met a couple times around the elevator and something about his roguish handsome looks and curly black hair rubbed her the wrong way. “Well, thanks anyway. I need to go.” One hand fidgeted with her purse strings while the other hand carefully held on to the bowl of ice cream. Realizing how ungracious she sounded, Angie sighed and offered impulsively, “I don’t mind sharing this.” She raised the bowl slightly.
    His eyes widened briefly in surprise before he nodded once. “Sure, I’m Alex Farhadi by the way.”
    She nodded slowly. “Angela Scot, but I’m generally known as Angie.” Already regretting the impulse that had made her offer to share her ice cream, Angie walked to her apartment, just a few steps from the elevator. She passed the bowl to him while she searched her bag for her keys. Since her bag seemed to be a dumping ground for everything from train tickets to pencil stubs, it took her a while to find them. She really needed to get one of those transparent purse organizers, she thought in irritation.
    Finally she found the key and led the way into her apartment, which opened into a cozy living area. It was decorated in earth tones with red accents and had a clean and sparse feel to it. She had fallen in love with the apartment the moment she walked in a couple weeks ago. The clean lines of the apartment were such a sharp contrast to the chaos she’d left behind that she’d immediately relaxed, breathing for the first time in close to a year, or so it had seemed.
    She took off the tiny black shrug she wore on top of the short floral patterned summer dress she was wearing and motioned for him to take off his shoes just inside the door, but he was already doing that. It was just one of the culture shocks she’d gone through when she came to Kuala Lumpur. Everyone had to take off their shoes before entering a home. She compromised by taking hers off inside her apartment.
    “Do you want something to drink?” she asked as she turned on the air conditioning and reclaimed her precious bowl of ice cream. It might have been December, but Malaysia was as hot as though it were July in Texas. When he nodded she moved towards the kitchen area. “Hot or Cold?”
    “Do you have any alcohol?”
    “Umm, there’s Scotch, Vermouth, some White and Red.” She catalogued the small bar she’d found when she moved in.
    “I could do with a Scotch, thanks.”
    “Make yourself comfortable,” she said from the kitchen area, pausing to put down the ice cream bowl before reaching up for the shot glass. She turned and found him seated on one of the high stools which surrounded