The Project: A 75,000-word romantic suspense novel for a Harlequin contest. I wrote the novel over the course of a few weeks in October 2012. This excerpt is the first few pages. (Contains some mild profanity and socially-awkward internal monologue.)
The Text:
Two Hours in Rome
Chapter 1
“Excuse me, Miss, is this seat taken?” the man asked in a foreign accent. Swiss, maybe? Lina McAllister thought as she absentmindedly looked up, still half-immersed in her novel.
Until she saw him, that is, because her jaw dropped in surprise—something she had never believed happened in real life, but now she knew better. Because before her stood a man fully worthy of the term “jaw-droppingly gorgeous.” His hair, dark and curly, looked soft and smooth, glistening even here, in the harsh airport lighting. It was hard to tell the exact color; she thought it might be dark brown, but it looked almost black. As for his physique, it was, as far as she could tell, flawless, and the business suit highlighted it perfectly. His bright smile softened his strong jawline (which, naturally, had just the right amount of stubble to make him look ruggedly sexy, not unkempt), and his eyes, a deep blue reminiscent of the North Sea, met hers with a self-assurance she found incredibly attractive.
If I were to google “smoking hot,” this man would deserve to make the top result, she thought. Is he descended from a Greek god or something? Or Norse, I guess, if he’s Scandinavian… or, whatever ancient deities the Swiss used to worship, actually.
He smiled at her politely, and she flushed as she realized she had been gawking at him like an idiot… and with her luck, he would probably be sitting next to her on the impending transatlantic flight. This was an airport, after all, and he was asking her if he could sit next to her in the waiting area by her gate.
Oh, God, I STILL haven’t answered his question! she thought to herself, and winced in horror. Was it too late? Should she pretend not to speak English? At the very least, I should close my mouth before I look any more foolish, she snapped at herself silently.
“Um…” she began hesitantly, still very tempted to feign ignorance of the English language. Except… Shit, my passport is right here, and my book is also in English. Still, might be worth a shot…
“Oh, I’m sorry if I startled you…” the man suddenly interjected. Oh, thank God. I don’t care if he’s just offering me a way out out of pity. I’ll take it!
“No, it’s my fault, really. Just a little too caught up in my novel,” Lina replied—suavely, she hoped. “Of course, sit down, the seat is yours.” She smiled, her smile much more confident than she actually felt. He seemed to accept the facade, though.
“Sorry to interrupt your reading. I know how difficult it is to escape a well-written plot,” he said. Reassuring her out of politeness or genuine sympathy? She couldn’t tell, but she was willing to bet that he had never felt as awkward as she did. Every day.
“It’s not even that good a book. I’m just out of it from too little sleep. Traveling is a pain sometimes.” She was actually deeply engrossed in the book, but she wasn’t about to admit that the cheap paperback romance had captured her attention.
“But you must be excited, Miss!” he exclaimed. “A flight to Munich, European adventure at your fingertips…”
“Actually, I’m going to Geneva, but I couldn’t get a direct flight,” she found herself explaining. “And I am happy to be going, but—”
“To Geneva? Really? What a coincidence! That is my destination, too!” he interjected, beaming, and she almost believed his joy was genuinely over their shared destination, though experience had taught her that his happiness was probably at the thought of returning to his girlfriend. Or boyfriend…
“Wow, that is a coincidence,” she agreed, trying to think of something interesting to add. Alas, in his presence, her brain seemed to have decided to go on vacation. (“Spring break! Woohoo!”)
“Would it not be funny if we were seated next to each other? On the plane, I mean; obviously, we are sitting together now.” He suggested the possibility innocently, but Lina was still feeling a bit anxious at the idea of spending twelve hours next to this man, this Adonis.
“I guess anything’s possible,” she replied noncommittally. “Although I’m in coach class. 45A,” Lina told him, assuming someone like him flew business class.
“No! Really? I am in 45B! This really is a surprise. Must be… fate. ‘Fate’ is the word in English, is it not?”
“Yes, ‘fate’ is the word…” Lina felt both elated and terrified. Twelve hours! She was going to fall asleep and drool on him and his fancy clothes. She just knew it. She tried to keep her expression neutral, though.
“Well, I guess it might be time for introductions, then. I’m Dominic.” He extended his hand as he spoke. Lina blinked at him for a moment — did he really want to befriend her after their initial introduction? — but he seemed sincere, so she took the proffered hand.
“My name is Lina,” she said, somewhat shyly. The longer they talked, the more likely it was she’d say something awkward, like replacing his name with the word “hot” or something. On the other hand, until that happened, she might as well spend time talking to him. After all, even his name, “Dominic,” which he said with almost a French accent, oozed sexiness. Wow, even my thoughts sound obnoxious now. Get your head in the game, McAllister, she thought harshly. I’m not marrying the man. OR bedding him. Not that I’d even know how to go about seducing anyone… Shit, focus, woman! He’s talking.
“A beautiful name for a beautiful woman,” Dominic was saying, sheepishly smiling as though even he recognized the corniness of his statement. But from him, Lina would happily hear clichéd compliments all day. Not that she could tell him that, of course. She smiled back a little more confidently than before, though.