“Calm down,” he said as his hand eased gently from her shoulder to rest tentatively at the small of her back. “It’s all right. Really. I heard you crying. I was concerned.”

She tilted her head slightly to gaze up at the towering, dark-eyed stranger, her whole body surrendering as his arm encircled her, pulling her against his hard male strength.

She clutched at the lapels of his tuxedo jacket, burying her face in the stiff pleats of his white shirt as the tears began to flow again.

“I’m so . . . sorry . . . I . . . please,” she gulped helplessly between sobs.

He let her lean against him, still weeping as she snuggled closer and closer, as if wanting to lose herself in the warmth of his body. God, but she felt right in his arms.

Parr couldn’t fight the wild idea that she belonged there or the strange feeling that this unknown woman was somehow meant for him.

But she didn’t belong in his arms, he told himself. He sure as hell didn’t believe in fate—or luck, for that matter. But he made no move away. She nestled closer.

What would it be like, he wondered, if they could act on instinct and let this unexpected closeness lead to its natural conclusion? What would her small, round body feel like naked beneath his?

Parr stiffened. That wasn’t his brain talking. He had to regain self-control or this random encounter might go in an unwanted direction. The beautiful teary woman in his arms obviously needed nothing more than to be held for a few minutes. Give her that and then let her go, he told himself.

“Shhh . . . shhh . . .” His voice was deep and rough.

She moved her face up a few inches from his chest, looking into his eyes, trying to smile. “You must think that I’m crazy.”

“No.” He was still holding her close, so close that he could feel the soft warmth of her breasts. “Something upset you, hurt you.”

She stared into his brown eyes, eyes so dark they appeared almost black. “Yes. But I—I just can’t explain. Not now. Not here.”

His hand gently stroked her cascading strawberry blond hair and she rested her head on his chest again as her arms went around his waist.

To steady herself, Parr thought. Not to embrace him.

“That’s all right, honey,” he whispered into her hair. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. Just let me hold you. It’ll do you good.”

Her response was a tiny, relieved sigh.