ALEX'S POV

I absentmindedly spin the gold and garnet ring on my finger, not seeing a thing in front of me.

How? How in the hell did this woman get under my skin and crawl her way into my heart from ten minutes of dancing in the damn rain? But I know that the length of time is irreverent and it wasn't the rain. It was her beautiful gaze, the pain it hides and the longing that matches my own. It was her smile. Her laughter. It's just.. her.

I finally give in and press the intercom button on my phone.

"Call Blaze" I request, releasing the button before she can respond.

Twenty long minutes later there are two sharp knocks on the door and he walks in.

I shoot him a dark look for just coming in, but his is dry. I may hire him, but we're friends first.

"So what's up?" He asks, getting straight to the point, that fierce, army look about him. Blaze was always an intense kid and he's been talking about enlisting since we were eight. He fudged his birth certificate because he was a few months shy of eighteen and he grew too impatient to wait. He did three tours in Iraq and now he's a.. private contractor. He finds and protects people, bringing criminals to the kind of justice that rarely involves the police. He's six foot two, two hundred fifty pounds of muscle with hard eyes, a square jaw and he never got rid of the buzz cut. Inky black, vaguely tribal tattoos snake up his large arms, wrapping around the abundance of muscle and highlighting the veins just under the surface of his tan skin. To say he's intimidating is an understatement, but he has a heart of gold and a sense of honor like no other. He's loyal to a select few, but he takes that loyalty seriously. And he's loyal to me, which is one of the reasons I called him. It doesn't hurt that he makes his living by finding people.

"It happened" I admit lowly, knowing that's all I need to say. We've had this conversation. He knows.

Absolute silence floods the room for a long moment.

"Wow" he finally mutters, surprise tinting the one word.

I fight a grimace, understanding his shock.

"I need to find her" I continue before he can press for too many details. I feel like i'm going through withdraw without her. I can't explain it, but I need her and i'm not used to needing anyone.

"How'd you lose her?" He counters carefully.

Because i'm a damn idiot.

I ignore the question.

"She was at the art opening I went to last night. Red dress. Black hair. Grey eyes" I attempt to describe the most beautiful woman in the world when there are no words for her. Grey is such a meaningless word for her eyes. They're so beautiful that they take my breath away, even now. The thought of her eyes, the memory of them haunts me.

The way he goes still puts me on edge instantly.

"Name?" he asks, sounding too curious. Too... hopeful?

"Didn't get one" I grate, wanting to lie through my teeth and say I took her everyway from Sunday so he knows that she's mine.

"Buyer or artist?"

"I don't know" I answer truthfully, not really seeing her as either, but seeing her as both at the same time. There's a wildness to her that I could see being the muse for some beautiful artwork, and there's a quiet grace to her that hints at her having enough money to be at a place like that, but there's a.. danger to her that tells me there's so much more to her than just the surface.

"Was she invited or a plus one?"

"Don't know" I repeat, frustrated at the little I learned from our time together. I learned so much in the seconds we met, just nothing to help me find her. "But if I had to guess i'd say a plus one" I add after a second. She snuck off at the beginning. Most invited guests, buyer or artist who bothered to show up probably wouldn't do that. Then again I did.

"You know who held the opening?"

I shake my head.

"I'll get right on it" he promises, turning to leave.

"I'm coming with you" I blurt on impulse.

"I'm perfectly capable of handling this on my own" he points out, watching me warily as I reach for my jacket and palm my keys.

"I'm well aware of that" I assure dryly, and I am, but.. he's had this weird spark in his eyes since I described her that looks a hell of a lot like recognition. Too much like it, and there's heat and deep emotions behind that recognition. Not things Blaze is known for. If my girl and the girl he thinks she is are the same we're in trouble. She means something to him. Question is, does he mean something to her? Hell do I mean something to her? She sure as hell means everything to me. "I want to see this out myself" I explain truthfully, walking past him to open the door.

"But what about the firm-?" He tries to object, reluctantly following me out of my office.

I stop at the reception desk.

"Call Jake, tell him i'm taking a personal day" I tell Sindy, walking away when she nods. "It's in good hands" I monotone, glancing over my shoulder, daring him to find another excuse.

He does.

"I work alone" he rumbles as his thoughts no doubt wander to my girl. What's his connection to her?

"Not today" I state, not giving him an option.