J. Kenner - Heated

His cerulean eyes were the perfect contrast to the golden blond hair, conjuring thoughts of sun and sand, wild days and wicked nights. All in all he had a devil-may-care look about him, and that was only accentuated by the beard stubble. My fingers twitched, and to my horror, I found myself wanting to reach out and stroke his cheek, letting the roughness there smooth away my hard edges like sandpaper.

He eased around the fountain and jockeyed through the crowd with the kind of confidence that comes from knowing that people will move out of your way because you’re just that cool.

“Tyler!” Kat called again, and I had the unreasonable urge to clamp my hand over her mouth. This was the guy I’d come here to get close to, but right then, I didn’t feel prepared at all.

I’d known before coming tonight that Tyler Sharp was among the finest of male specimens, but never in a million years would I have anticipated my own tingling, visceral reaction to the man.

I wanted to duck behind the pillar. I wanted to bolt. I wanted to find some sanctuary until I could get my head together and find my center. But that wasn’t an option. He’d seen us, and though he nodded to Kat, I was the one who drew his focus. His eyes met mine, and the impact of that simple look ripped through me in a way that left me weak and confused. I’d never met Tyler Sharp—had seen him only in photographs, learned about him only from articles and from chatting up cops. But in that moment it felt as though I’d known him all my life.

I wasn’t entirely sure I liked the feeling—or perhaps I just liked it too much.

He stopped in front of us, and I told myself to get it together. I was not the kind of woman who lost her cool around a gorgeous man. Or, at least, I hadn’t been two minutes ago.

As he looked at me, his sensual mouth curved up in the manner of a man about to sample something delicious—and the something was me. I shivered, the unexpected thought making my body tingle in a way that caught me off guard, but that I couldn’t deny liking.

It took one hell of an effort, but I straightened my shoulders and met his eyes coolly, determined to take back at least a modicum of control.

“Sloane was looking for you,” Kat said. “She says you’ll want to talk to her.”

“Does she?” His attention stayed full on my face, and I thought for a moment that if I stepped closer, I would drown in those liquid eyes. “Funny,” he said. “She’s just the woman I want, too.”

She’s just the woman I want, too.

His words wrapped around me, as enticing as a caress, and the control I’d been clutching scattered like so much dandelion fluff.

That moment of weakness passed quickly, though, shoved aside by years of police training and the deeply ingrained cynicism I’d lived with since childhood. Tyler Sharp was a con man and a womanizer and who knew what else. He knew how to flatter. How to entice. How to make a woman feel special and interesting and, yeah, just a little turned on. But no way had he really been looking for me. He’d been out of town for weeks, and I knew that he’d returned only this afternoon. So, no. I wasn’t on his radar.

I told myself that was a good thing. If Tyler Sharp was going to be looking at me, I wanted him to see only what I was willing to reveal.

As if in answer to my thoughts, he glanced down, then drew his gaze over me, starting at my newly-painted pink toenails and moving so slowly up my body that it took all my willpower not to shiver. When his eyes once again reached mine, I almost gasped at the wicked fire I saw beneath the fierce arctic blue. A wild, penetrating flame that had the power to burn away my cover and leave me naked, all my secrets fully exposed to this man.

The thought should have angered me. At the very least, it should have worried me.

Instead, it excited me.

You’re off your game, Sloane. Walk away. Just walk away, get your bearings, and kick off the op tomorrow.

Good advice, actually. And why wouldn’t it be? I was a damn good cop, after all.

Apparently I was also a damn fool, because I had no intention of walking away. I wasn’t entirely sure if I was sticking because of the mission or the man, but I told myself it didn’t matter. That the little trill of sensual pleasure I felt low in my belly wasn’t a weakness—it was an asset. This was a seduction, after all. A little sizzle and pop between us would only make the job easier. And a lot of sizzle and pop would make it a hell of a lot more fun.

Still, I owed either Tyler Sharp or my hormones a thank-you. Because my reaction to this man reminded me that I needed to be careful. Tyler Sharp was a dangerous breed, and though he might not know it yet, he and I were locked in a heated battle. One that I fully intended to win—even if that meant playing dirty.

Beside me, Kat shifted. The movement caught my attention, and I turned to see her watching Tyler.

He gave her the slightest of nods, and she cleared her throat. “Um, yeah, well, I’m just going to run and find Lina and give her and Evan another hug. Attend to my pseudo-hostess duties. Maybe cure cancer and solve that whole world peace problem. Hopefully you two will muddle along without me.”

“I think we’ll manage,” Tyler said. “I promise to take good care of Sloane.”

“Yeah,” Kat said. “I just bet you will.” She winked at me, then bopped away. I watched her get swallowed up by the crowd, grateful to have a moment to gather myself. When I turned back to Tyler, I saw that he hadn’t taken the same opportunity. He was still focused entirely on me.

“Alone at last,” he said.

I shifted my weight, not liking the way this man unnerved me. I was a detective, for Christ’s sake. I ate suspects for breakfast, and my bad cop skills in interviews were worthy of an Academy Award. I’d never worked undercover, though, and I suddenly had all sorts of respect for my peers who put on the mask and held tight to their secrets.

Then again, I was no stranger to masks or secrets. I could do this. And as if to prove it to myself, I looked up at him through my lashes, hoping the effect was as sexy as I imagined. “Should I be nervous? A man like you looking for me.”

“A man like me?” His voice was low. Enticing. “Interesting. So tell me—what am I like?”

I stepped closer to him, lifted my hand as if I was going to touch him, then pulled it back with a slightly embarrassed expression. “Tempting,” I said, and though the word was calculated, it was also very true.

“Am I?” He looked pointedly at my hands. “And that makes you nervous?”

“That? No.” I drew in a breath as I considered my next move and, as in chess, where that move would take me. “I’m pretty good at resisting temptation.”

“Are you?” He leaned in, his mouth so close to my ear I felt the whisper of his breath on my hair. “I’m not. As far as I’m concerned, giving in to temptation is one of the few true pleasures in life.”

Oh, my. A hot coil of desire twisted through me, making my skin flush and my knees go weak.

If he noticed my reaction, he said nothing. But he began to walk slowly around me, as a man in a museum might circle a statue.

I started to turn as well, tracking his movement. “No,” he said, the command in his voice undeniable. “Stay still. Look forward.”

I stopped, hesitated, then turned my head to look out at the party, at the people floating by in pretty dresses and elegant suits. With smiles and laughter and nothing on their minds except the quality of the wine and the rhythm of the band.

I told myself that my acquiescence was simply part of the game—he was a man who wanted control, I was the woman falling under his spell.

But it was more than that, and I damn well knew it. That flutter I felt in my belly wasn’t the excitement of the chase, but the anticipation of his touch.

Yeah, Tyler Sharp was dangerous, all right.

He was behind me now, and though I could no longer see him, I felt his presence as firm and gentle as a kiss. My breath caught in my chest, and I realized that I was anticipating the brush of his fingertips upon the nape of my neck, then his hand on my bare back, exposed in the halter-style dress.

But the touch never came—and my breath never came easy.

When he spoke, his voice was low, as if too much volume would break the spell. “You’re a riddle, Ms.…”

“O’Dell,” I whispered.

He was right there, but I couldn’t see him. I could only breathe in the scent of him, fresh and woody, like a forest after a rain. Sexy, enticing, and undeniably male. “Sloane O’Dell,” he said. “I like it.”

“I like the way you say it.” I kept my voice low and full of invitation.

“Do you?” he asked, as he finished the circle. “I’m very glad to hear it.”

I looked at him, at that perfect face, and felt my fingers twitch with the desire to touch him, a desire that was magnified because I could see only too well that it was returned. Tyler Sharp wanted me, too. Maybe he was teasing me, playing me. Maybe he had an agenda. I didn’t know. But my world centered around seeing—seeing people, seeing evidence, seeing the truth. And I saw the truth in the way Tyler’s eyes were dilated. In the slightest flush of color on his skin. In the way that his pulse beat just a tad too quickly in his neck.

Yes, he wanted me—and yet there was no denying that he was playing with me, too. We were locked in a game, and though I’d initiated it, I couldn’t claim to fully understand the rules.

I felt unanchored and slightly out of control. But at the same time, I felt more desperately alive than I had in a very long time.