1964.

Grace was caught in the rain. Again. She had even checked the newspaper for the evening’s forecast, and thought she could make a quick run to the market to pick up a few things for dinner. So, leaving her umbrella at her London flat, she donned a simple gray dress, navy sweater, and her favorite orange flats, and went out the door. Now here she was, walking in the pouring rain to her apartment, and still with five blocks to go, not to mention the fact that her arms were heavily laden with grocery bags. Grace was busy attempting to blink some of the water out of her eyes and stop her hands from shaking due to the freezing rain, when she stumbled into someone.

Gasping in alarm, she closed her eyes, and braced herself for the impact of her head smacking the wet asphalt. Instead, a warm, strong pair of arms enveloped her, and her eyes flew open shock. There, holding her close to him, was a man, and a very beautiful one at that. His hazel eyes were wide as well, with a hint of a smile dancing playfully around the edge of his masculine lips. He gently helped her up from the dip-like position she had imagined would take place in a tango or some equally exotic dance, and said, “Are you alright there, love?” His voice was quite lovely to listen to, and was laced with a flattering amount of concern.

“Yes, thank you very much!” Grace replied earnestly, albeit somewhat breathlessly. She blushed profusely and looking at the ground briefly before gathering up the courage to look into his wonderful eyes again.
“I’m ‘so sorry about that, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going, and I just-“
“Please, don’t worry about it. It’s quite an honor to be able to help a lady as beautiful as you,” he said with a friendly wink. He watched in amusement as she blushed again, her brilliant eyes flickering to the ground for a moment before looking back at him.
“That’s very kind of you, thank you…” Grace’s light, musical voice trailed off, realizing first that she did not know this man’s name, and second that they were conversing in the torrential rain. He seemed to notice this the same time as she did, and said quickly, “My name’s Paul, love, Can I get you out of this rain? My flat is just around the corner, and I don’t want you to die of frost bite before you make it home.”
Grace hesitated, but figured she trusted him, or at least figure he wasn’t going to murder her- she did feel like her fingers were going to fall off any second now. She nodded and smiled, saying, “That would be lovely, Paul, thank you!” Paul smiled happily at her, and relieved her of the heavy shopping bags burdening her slender arms.
“Brilliant! Over here, milady!” He cried, gesturing with a flourish to the corner a few feet from them. She had to laugh at his antics, and said with an elegant courtesy and a delightful laugh, “Of course, Sir Paul, lead the way!’