The enigmatic woman turned away from him, chuckling. “Oh, relishing the clichés. I’m…Pawes. Call me Pawes.” She held out a hand, moving it side to side as if searching for him.
“Ah, women do like to take their time.” He pressed a quick kiss on her knuckles and slowly released her. He detected a slight hesitation before she nodded. “Yes. While men generally are in a hurry.” She turned her face toward him. “And you?” “Call me Alan, Miss Pawes.” “No, Pawes or Mrs. Pawes if you like, please.” Drawing a deep breath, she tried to focus on him, then winced, closing her eyes tightly. “You were behind me. Why didn’t it hit you?” “Because I was behind you, but I twisted my face away in time. Let me escort you somewhere quiet and buy you a drink. “Are your intentions honorable?” Her head tilted. “Of course not, but not actually dishonorable. I promise to warn you if driven to some despicable bit of deviltry.” He must have impressed her, because a smile danced across her face—that upward tilt of her lips to the left exactly as he remembered from his dreams. He wondered if the rest of the details were the same.