A SEAL's Temptation

“You made all of this?” Impressed, Shane looked in the room again. The pieces ranged from a vase big enough for him to stuff his sister into on down to some smaller than his hand.

“I did. I mostly use the pottery wheel, but I occasionally do slip casting and hand build sculptures,” Lark said, following his gaze toward the richly colored stock on the shelves. Her expression echoed her tone. Easy, comfortable pride. “All of the ceramics in the coffeehouse are mine. The mugs and plates and decorations. I used to have a studio but now I mostly supply to a few wholesalers and a couple of decorators contract pieces from time to time.”

“She’s great, Shane,” Sara chimed in. “You should have seen this piece she did for some fancy spa last year. It was a nude, all glossy and sleek.”

A nude.

Unable to stop himself, Shane’s gaze shifted from the sensual arch of Lark’s mouth to travel down the tempting curves of her body. The color of crushed grapes, purple and bleeding, the long sleeves of her dress were tight to the wrist, the top cupping breasts full enough to make his mouth water before draping loose over hips just the right width for his hands. He wished there was a little less fabric, so instead of hitting her calves to show off black boots that laced to the knee, he could see her legs. The only thing that got him hotter than a nice set of breasts was a pair of long, sleek legs.

He lifted his gaze to meet hers and had to mentally adjust that long-held belief. Because those dark eyes were getting him pretty damned hot, too.

For the first time in his life, Shane wished a woman would hit on him and hit hard. At least, he wished it if that woman was Lark.

That was the only way he was going to get her naked, he realized with an unfamiliar surge of frustration. If he did the hitting on, he’d have to get to know her first. That’s just the way it was. He’d have to learn more than her name before he asked her to strip down naked. That meant he’d have to tell her more about himself. Because once he stripped down naked, she’d see the scar riding low on his hip. And despite what his mother liked to tell people, he didn’t figure a woman as savvy as Lark was going to believe he’d taken shrapnel while installing phone systems.

And that wasn’t going to happen for two very good reasons.

One, word would get out, which would piss off his mother, which would launch yet another round of drama. Then his sisters would all join in the nagfest, every one of them singing the same ole familiar song, with a dozen choruses of why he should leave the military, how he should find a safe job and when was he going to move back home where they could watch over him.

Which led to reason number two. Shane would never, ever, live under the eyes of his family again. He loved them just fine, but loved them more at a distance and in small doses. Which meant hometown girls with connections to his family were off-limits.

“Hey, do you guys mind? I’m going to run down to the car and get a few things. Be right back,” Sara said. Before he even turned his head, he heard her rush out, leaving him alone with Lark.

“So...” His mind raced, desperate to find a topic that didn’t make him think of seeing her naked. “Is that what you mostly do now? In pottery? Cups and plates and things?”

Nice, O’Brian. He gave himself a mental slap upside the head.

Lark didn’t seem to mind, though. She just gave him a long, considering look. He knew that look. It was the one women used when they were wondering what he looked like naked.

His body stiffened, more than ready to show her that it was a pretty good view. Then she blinked and the look was gone.

“I can do almost anything with clay. Pottery is my passion but I really enjoy sculpting, too. Hang on.” She smiled and held up one finger, as if he’d turn heel and leave the minute she turned around.

Then she did just that, sweeping into the storage room and bending low to get something from the bottom shelf. And Shane knew it’d take an explosion to get him to move.

Because that was one sweet view.

He watched the way the fabric of her jean skirt clung to what looked to be a Grade A ass, then had to shove his hands into his pockets to hide his reaction.

As Lark came back with something in her hand, she gave him a smile that carried a hint of embarrassment, but unless she could read his mind, he didn’t know what she had to be embarrassed about.

“You might like this,” she said quietly, wetting her lips before holding out her hand, palm up.

On it was a small, whimsical dragon. Wings unfurled, it looked as if it were smiling.

“You made this?” Awed at the way the colors bled from red to gold to purple, he rubbed one finger over the tiny, detailed scales of the dragon’s back. “It’s great.”

“He’s a guardian dragon,” Lark said, touching her finger to the cool ceramic, close enough that all he’d have to do was shift his hand to touch her. “You might like one of your own. I can tell Sara worries about you.”

Shane grimaced at the idea of his baby sister telling people—especially sexy female people with eyes like midnight—that he needed protecting. Better to change the subject than comment on that.

“It takes a lot of talent to make something this intricate,” he said, waiting until her gaze met his to slide his hand over hers. He felt her fingers tremble even as he saw that spark heat. Her lips looked so soft as she puffed out a soft breath before tugging that full bottom cushion between her teeth. He wanted to do that for her, just nibble there for a little while.

“I’m good with my hands,” she finally said, her words so low they were almost a whisper.

How good? he wanted to ask, just before he dared her to prove it.

Before he could give in to the temptation, Sara came back into the room.

“This is a great apartment, Lark. Shane, you’re going to love staying here. It’s so comfy and cozy,” she said, her voice bubbling with enthusiasm. “I’ll put groceries in this cute little kitchenette, then we’ll go get dinner, okay? Anywhere but the sports bar.”

Her words trailed off, then she giggled.

“What’chya guys doing?”

Lusting, dammit.

Shane blinked once, then shoved aside the knife-sharp edge of frustration, calling on his years of training to yank himself back under control.

“Nothing,” they both said at once.

“Uh-huh.” After a brief silence, Sara asked, “Lark, do you want to join us for dinner?”

Lark slowly shifted her gaze from Shane to his sister. She pressed her lips together, taking a deep breath that did amazing things for her lush breasts.

“Thanks.” Before Shane could decide if spending more time with her was good or bad, she shook her head. “I’ve got a lot to do tonight. Besides, I’m sure the two of you have a lot of catching up to do.”

“Are you sure?” Folding the canvas grocery bag, Sara tucked it between the counter and the refrigerator before joining them. “I’d love for you to join us.”

With an unreadable look on her face, Lark gave Shane a long look again.

“I’d better not,” she said quietly. She took the key ring out of her pocket and slipped one key off. “This will get you back in later. Why don’t you guys go eat? I’ll set out the bedding, towels and such.”

He’d rather stay.

Which is why Shane didn’t object when Sara tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and called a goodbye to her friend.

He shot Lark one last glance on his way out the door. Not because he wanted to remember what she looked like—her image was etched on his brain. He just wanted to see if she was looking.

Damn.

She had the sexiest smile, standing there with that dragon in her hand. The one she’d made by fondling a long tube. Sure, the tube was clay, but he’d bet she was good enough to extend that talent to tubes of flesh.

And she was off-limits, he reminded himself as he followed Sara down the stairs. It was just as well that Sara had sideswiped his making a move on her friend.

His mind agreed.

His dick, however, called it pure bullshit.

3

GRABBING THE GROCERIES from the back of her Scout, Lark glanced at the back stairs of The Magic Beans building. Nerves danced in her stomach as she eyed the door to the apartment next to hers.

She must have gone over the bend into crazy.

What other reason was there for her blah, bland and boring behavior the day before? Instead of flirting or acting interested when she met the sexiest man in the world, she’d babbled about pottery.

Why else would she spend an entire night with her ear pressed against the adjoining wall just because she was fantasizing about the guy on the other side?

Where was she ever going to meet another guy with the perfect combination of a gorgeous face, a body hot enough to dim the sun and a personality that made her want to curl up on the couch and talk for hours?

When would she get another shot at a little fun to break up the miserable monotony that had become her life?

Yet, she’d blown it.

At first, she’d tried to excuse her behavior by reminding herself that Shane was Sara’s brother, so the standard dating rules were in effect. But somewhere around midnight, she’d remembered that oft-used loophole in the rules—that if the sibling never found out and it wasn’t a big deal, then the rule didn’t count.

Shane was only here for a few days, a week at the most. Despite his family, he clearly had no strong ties to the town. And she’d been without sex for over a year and a half. All of which, she’d decided, qualified her for the loophole.

But somewhere between her middle of the night fantasies and produce shopping, she’d made a vow. She wasn’t going to wimp out next time she saw Shane O’Brian.

Excitement danced in her belly as she reached the landing. Was Shane in the apartment? She wondered if he’d slept okay. She could stop in and ask. That was totally nonwimpy.

Maybe she should offer him some muffins or cookies from downstairs. She suddenly wished for some of Heather’s reputedly sex-inducing passionflower tarts. Or, she glanced at the cloth bag in her arms, at least something more exciting than granola.

Boring snack or not, checking on him was the neighborly thing to do. The fact that he was the sexiest, most appealing man she’d ever seen in her life had nothing to do with it.

But he was the sexiest, most appealing man she’d ever seen in her life. He might be quiet, but he was well-spoken with that deep, husky bedroom voice. And even though the idea of hooking up with a male stripper had its drawbacks, she figured it meant he had to have some seriously incredible moves—on and offstage.

Because she was so ready for hot, wild sex. The kind that came without commitments. The kind that came with multiple screaming orgasms.

She wanted to experience a wickedly wild affair.

And she knew exactly who she wanted to experience it with.

Because not only did he look as if he would be amazing in bed, but Shane O’Brian was the kind of guy she could get seriously hooked on.

She was halfway to his door when her feet stopped all by themselves and it hit her. She’d been hooked before. And she knew that hooked meant hurt.

Her eyes lingered on his door for a long moment, but she didn’t step forward to knock. Instead, she turned left and unlocked her own apartment.

As homes went, the place wasn’t very big. But it was hers.

She’d painted the walls a dusky blue leaning toward indigo and kept the windows bare. She’d sold most of her furniture when she’d given up her apartment, only keeping the pieces she loved most. Her purple velvet chaise lounge. The brass floor lamp with its dangling crystal shade. Her bedroom set, with its ornate brass headboard and etched armoire. And, of course, her art supplies.

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