“I’m sorry,” the stone-faced man replied, “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
As always, his face remained devoid of all emotion; yet there appeared to be a fury of sorts – one simmering barely beneath the surface – that seemed to radiate from him.
Feigning a sudden interest in the zipper on the breast pocket of the black leather jacket he wore over the smoke gray t-shirt that hugged his muscular frame, Emily tore her eyes away from his; she was not used to feeling intimidated in his presence.
Before she could even ponder whether he was deep in thought or that his probing gaze was directed at her, his hand deftly slid into the front pocket of his black button-fly jeans and produced an object that rendered Emily speechless.
“I believe this belongs to you.”