Syd had read in her massive research on Navy SEALs that each member of a team had individual strengths and skills. Each member was a specialist in a variety of fields. And Lieutenant Lucky O’Donlon, aka Navy Ken, was clearly a specialist when it came to kissing.
She meant to pull away nanoseconds after his lips touched hers. She meant to step back and freeze him with a single, disbelieving, uncomprehending look.
Instead, she melted completely in his arms. The bones in her body completely turned to mush.
He tasted like the wine, sweet and strong. He smelled like sunblock and fresh ocean air. He felt so solid beneath her hands—all those muscles underneath the silk of his shirt, shoulders wider than she’d ever imagined. He was all power, all male.
And she lost her mind. There was no other explanation. Insanity temporarily took a tight hold. Because she kissed him back. Fiercely, yes. Possessively, absolutely. Ravenously, no doubt about it. She didn’t just kiss him, she inhaled the man.
She slanted her head to give him better access to her mouth as he pulled her more tightly against him.
It was crazy. It was impossibly exciting—he was undeniably even more delicious than that excellent wine. His hands skimmed her back, cupping the curve of her rear end, pressing her against his arousal and—
And sanity returned with a crash. Syd pulled back, breathing hard, furious with him, even more furious with herself.
This man was willing to take her to bed, to be physically intimate with her—all simply to control her. Sex meant so little to him that he could cheerfully use himself as a means to an end.
And as for herself—her body had betrayed her, damn it. She’d been hiding it, denying it, but the awful truth was, this man was hot. She’d never been up close to a man as completely sexy and breathtakingly handsome as Lucky O’Donlon. He was physical perfection, pure dazzling masculine beauty. His looks were movie-star quality, his body a work of art, his eyes a completely new and unique shade of blue.
No, he wasn’t just hot, he was white-hot. Unfortunately, he was also insensitive, narrow-minded, egocentric and conniving. Sydney didn’t like him—a fact she conveniently seemed to have forgotten when he kissed her.
The hunger in his perfect eyes was nearly mesmerizing as he reached for her again.
“Thanks but no thanks,” she managed to spit out as she sidestepped him. “And while I’m at it, I’ll pass on dinner, too.”
He was completely thrown. If she’d felt much like being amused, she could have had a good laugh at the expression on his face as he struggled to regroup. “But—”
“Look, Ken, I’m not an idiot. I know damn well what this is about. You figure you can keep me happy by throwing me a sexual bone—no pun intended. And yes, your kisses are quite masterful, but just the same—no thanks.”
He tried to feign innocence and then indignation. “You think that…? Wait, no, I would never try to—”
“What?” she interrupted. “I’m supposed to believe that crap about ‘isn’t it crazy? This attraction—you feel it, too?’” She laughed in disbelief. “Sorry, I don’t buy it, pal. Guys like you hit on women like me for only two reasons. It’s either because you want something—”
“I’m telling you right now that you’re wrong—”
“Or you’re desperate.”
“Whoa.” It was his turn to laugh. “You don’t think very highly of yourself, do you?”
“Look me in the eye,” she said tightly, “and tell me honestly that your last girlfriend wasn’t blond, five-foot-ten and built like a supermodel. Look me in the eye and tell me you’ve always had a thing for flat-chested women with big hips.” Syd didn’t let him answer. She went back into the house, raising her voice so he could hear her. “I’ll catch a cab back to the police-station parking lot.”
She heard him turn off the grill, but then he followed her. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll give you a ride to your car.”
Syd pushed her way out the front door. “Do you think you can manage to do that without embarrassing us both again?”
He locked it behind him. “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you or offended you or—”
“You did both, Lieutenant. How about we just not say anything else right now, all right?”
He stiffly opened the passenger-side door to his truck and stood aside so that she could get in. He was dying to speak, and Syd gave him about four seconds before he gave in to the urge to keep the conversation going.
“I happen to find you very attractive,” Luke said as he climbed behind the wheel.
Two and a half seconds. She knew he’d give in. She should have pointedly ignored him, but she, too, couldn’t keep herself from countering.
“Yeah,” she said. “Right. Next you’ll tell me it’s my delicate and ladylike disposition that turns you on.”
“You have no idea what’s going on in my head.” He started his truck with a roar. “Maybe it is.”
Syd uttered a very non-ladylike word.
The lieutenant glanced at her several times, and cranked the air-conditioning up a notch as Syd sat and stewed. God, the next few weeks were going to be dreadful. Even if he didn’t hit on her again, she was going to have to live with the memory of that kiss.
That amazing kiss.
Her knees still felt a little weak.
He pulled into the police-station parking lot a little too fast and the truck bounced. But he remembered which car was hers and pulled up behind it, his tires skidding slightly in the gravel as he came to a too-swift stop.
Syd turned and looked at him.
He stared straight ahead. It was probably the first time he’d ever been turned down, and he was embarrassed. She could see a faint tinge of pink on his cheeks.
She almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
After she didn’t move for several seconds, he turned and looked at her. “This is your car, right?”
She nodded, traces of feeling sorry turning into hot anger. “Well?”
“Well, what?” He laughed ruefully. “Something tells me you’re not waiting for a good-night kiss.”
He wasn’t going to tell her. He’d had no intention of telling her, the son of a bitch.
Syd glared at him.
“What?” he said again. “Jeez, what did I do now?”
“Eleven o’clock,” she reminded him as sweetly as she could manage. “Skippy’s Harborside?”
Guilt and something else flickered in his eyes. Disappointment that she’d found out, no doubt. Certainly not remorse for keeping the meeting
