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CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND SIX – ONE OF THE GOOD ONES

He shifted forward then, that burning gaze never wavering. "It's a rare thing to encounter such tenacious hope in these modern dating spheres," he murmured in that liquid baritone. "A light in the darkness, as it were. I find myself...quite compelled." There it was - that slow boiling tension, the fluttering thrill of potential frissons simmering just beneath the surface. Jasmine could scarcely breathe, caught thoroughly in Derek's gravity well. And then, just as slowly, he retreated to a safer distance with an easy smile, smoothly transitioning into more palatable dialogues as their dessert and espressos arrived. But the electric charge in the air persisted...along with the nagging curiosity of just who was this poised Renaissance man, truly? As loath as she was to disturb the suavely enchanted reverie settling over their table, Jasmine couldn't help but indulge her inquisitiveness. "So," she ventured in a tone of practiced nonchalance, swirling her espresso idly as those crystal

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