A Gentleman in the Street

By: Alisha Rai

As a woman, she loved the way his mouth looked closing over the bread.

She shivered, poured the curry into two earthenware bowls and added a garnish of cilantro to each. With a deep breath, she stood in front of the swinging doors, the large tray balanced on her hand.

No big deal. You’re not an agoraphobic, you’ve served people before. Hand him his meal, wish him a good dinner. Nice and professional. And maybe even mildly flirtatious. She could use the practice, futile as it may be. She couldn’t remember the last time she had batted her eyes at a man. No wait, she had never batted her eyes at a man. Maybe she should ask Rana for eyelash-batting lessons before she met Jace.

No. Open the door, idiot. His dinner’s going to get cold and then you’ll have to deal with an irate, gorgeous man. Before she could dream up any more procrastination, she shoved the door open with her hip and walked out. And then she stopped short, certain for a minute her vision had blurred by the steam in the kitchen. Two gorgeous Jaces sat at table eight, their faces presented in perfect profile. After a second look, she picked out subtle differences. Jace sat on the left, dressed in his requisite suit and indolently relaxed in his seat. The man on the right had the same dark, curling hair, but longer and shaggier, not shaped into a ruthless cut. Lines were etched around a slightly cruel mouth, and his gaze shifted constantly, his body tensed and coiled to spring at a moment’s notice. His shoulders spanned an even wider width than Jace’s, and the T-shirt and jeans he wore revealed a body as perfect as his brother’s.

She had often thought it unfair she had been dropped into a family of gorgeous daughters, so she hoped this delicious pair of twins didn’t have any siblings. No one could possibly compete with those two.

Jace smiled at something his doppelganger said and the identical man grinned back. Her breath caught at their masculine beauty.

Well, that proves it. God has to be a woman.

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