call pretty. At least, not at first glance. Her mouth was too wide, too generous, too big for her face—except when she smiled. Her smile transformed her totally, making her eyes dance and sparkle and charming dimples appear in the perfect, smooth, slightly olive-tinted complexion of her cheeks. Her nose was straight and large, but not too big for her face, revealing a faintly Mediterranean ancestry. Her eyes were warm and the deepest shade of brown, framed by thick, dark eyelashes. Her ears were small and amazingly delicate looking. Blue found himself watching, fascinated, as a drop of rain clung to her unpierced earlobe before dripping onto her shoulder.
“I’m surprised Chief Bradley lets you patrol alone,” Blue said.
Lucy’s smile vanished. “Why? Because I’m a woman or because I’m a Yankee?”
“Because you’re a rookie.”
“I had Leroy Hurley handled,” Lucy remarked, her dark eyes flashing. “Until Andy got his gun.”
Blue nodded, forcing his gaze out and into the distance, down Main Street, toward the marina. How long had it been since he’d been with a woman? Two months? Three? Longer? He honestly couldn’t remember. He usually didn’t pay his sexual appetite much mind—until it sat up and demanded priority attention.
Like right now.
In a flash he could picture Lucy standing in the warm rain, sans uniform, water washing down her lean, shapely female body—full, soft breasts; flat stomach; slim hips; dangerously long, well-muscled thighs…. The image sent an intense rush of heat through him, heat he knew she’d be able to see in his eyes.
It was strange. In the past, Blue had always been attracted to the overly feminine type—the helpless type of woman who wore lots of frills and lace and needed to be rescued. It was true that he had in fact come to Lucy’s rescue more than once, but both times she’d certainly been doing her best to save herself. She was independent and strong. Even though she was soaking wet and only a rookie, she wore her police uniform and the gun at her side with an air of authority and competence. That should have pushed him back a step or two. Instead, he found himself inching forward, trying to get closer.
“I assumed Andy was harmless,” Lucy was saying with a frown. “I focused on Leroy and didn’t pay Andy any attention. That was my big mistake.”
“Never assume anything,” Blue said. He could tell from the way she met his gaze, then suddenly looked away, that she had gotten a glimpse of the fire in his eyes. She blushed, a tinge of pink darkening her cheeks as she looked down at the mud-encrusted radio and ticket pad she still held in her hands. She slipped the pad into her belt and tried to wipe the radio clean. She appeared to be intent on fixing her equipment, but she couldn’t keep from glancing at him out of the corners of her eyes.
Suddenly, Blue remembered the rumor he’d heard his senior year in high school that the little Yankee freshman girl had a crush on him. He’d been flattered and amused, and as kind to the girl as he could be without leading her on.
Was it possible that Lucy’s high-school crush had survived all these years?
Blue had noticed right from the first moment he’d spotted her sitting in the Grill that she wasn’t wearing a wedding band. Was it possible that Lucy was still single, still unattached?
Blue had come to Hatboro Creek today out of obligation. He’d come with every intention of enduring his visit—he hadn’t planned to enjoy any of it. But he was on leave, and his leave time was infrequent and irregular. Why not take hold of an opportunity and have a little pleasure, especially since that pleasure seemed to be handing itself to him on a silver platter? Why not? Especially since the attraction he was feeling right now was stronger than anything he’d felt in a long, long time.
“I, um, I better go,” Lucy said. “I’ll need to fill out a report and…” She turned toward him, using the back of one hand to push her wet hair from her face, but succeeding in leaving a streak of mud on her cheek. “Can I give you a ride somewhere? Are you staying at your brother’s?”
As Lucy watched, Blue glanced up at the cloudy sky as if noticing the rain for the first time. It was finally starting to let up. He pushed his hair back from his face but didn’t meet Lucy’s eyes again. “No,” he said. “Jenny Lee has already moved into Gerry’s place. I thought it would be better if I stayed at the motel. And it’s not far. I can walk there probably faster than you could drive.”
Lucy nodded, wishing almost inanely that he would smile at her again, or that he would look at her and let her get a second glance at that slow-burning heat she’d imagined she’d seen in his eyes. But it had to be just that—imagined. Blue McCoy would never be interested in her.
Would he?
“I wish I could think of a way to thank you properly for what you did,” she said, backing away.
He stepped toward her, following. “I can think of a way,” he said in his soft drawl. “There’s a party tonight at the country club, a sort of rehearsal dinner for Saturday’s wedding. Come as my date.”
Lucy stopped short. Her first reaction was to laugh. This had to be some sort of joke. Go to Hatboro Creek’s exclusive country club—on a date with Blue McCoy, her childhood hero? But Blue wasn’t laughing. He was…serious?
Why? Lucy searched his eyes, looking for the reason he’d asked her out. Why? There had to be a reason.
She found the answer in the heat in his eyes, as clear as day.
Sex.
He was a man and she was a woman, and although his invitation had been to attend a fancy, high-society party, what he really wanted to do with her wouldn’t require any kind of party dress at all. She could see all that in his eyes—and more.
Lucy was floored.
Blue McCoy wanted her. He wanted her. He was actually physically attracted to and interested in the tall, skinny, gawky, awkward Yankee tomboy, Lucy Tait.
Oh, she had no misconceptions about the extent of his desire. It was purely sexual. There were no emotions involved. At least not from his end. But it was clear from the look in his eyes that if she went on this date with him, he was going to do his damnedest to see that she didn’t get home tonight until well after dawn.
A clear and extremely erotic image of Blue pulling her down with him onto his bed at the Lighthouse Motel flashed through Lucy’s mind. Tangled arms and legs, seeking mouths, straining bodies, skin slick with sweat and desire… Strobelike pictures bombarded Lucy’s senses, along with a thousand other thoughts.
She had been plenty reckless and wild before—but never in her personal life. As crazy as she’d been with her career, Lucy had always been extremely careful when it came to relationships. But ever since she’d first laid eyes on Blue McCoy at age fifteen, she’d desperately wanted to run her fingers through his thick, dark blond hair.
Lucy knew she meant nothing to Blue and would no doubt continue to mean nothing to him, even if he slept with her. She’d never made love to a man before without knowing that their relationship was going to grow, without hoping for some kind of permanence. Yet Blue was in town for only a few days—a week at the most. Chances were that he wouldn’t be back. Maybe not for another twelve years.
As she gazed up at Blue, he reached out and touched the side of her face, gently wiping what was no doubt a smudge of dirt from her cheek with his thumb. His
