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When she had come to his table, Savannah was conscious of her pulse leaping into a gallop as she met his steady gaze when he looked up from his phone.
There was a riveting quality about his dark eyes, giving her the weird sensation of a laser probe straight to her heart.
Her skin tingled as though hit by an electric charge. She'd met a lot of different men in her waitressing, career. Not one of them had made this kind of impact on her. She wanted to say, "Don't walk out of my life," but such a plea seemed too embarrassingly presumptuous. Given that she didn't know the guy and he wasn't even in her life. They were simply passersby, not occupying the same world, only this bit of serving him on a cool evening.
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