Is He Really That Irresistible?

It’s amazing how closely linked strong emotions can be. Fear, passion, need. But in a moment when you’re bombarded by all of those conflicting inputs, what can you believe?



As soon as she saw who stood outside, she sucked in a breath—fear and frustration in equal parts pumping through her system.


She didn’t know if she wanted to punch him for scaring her, thank him for coming, or kiss the damn man. The way her nipples were hardening under the soft material of her pink polka dot PJs, she’d say her body was most interested in that last one.

But not when she was fresh out of bed with morning breath and no bra.

He pounded again. “Delaney. Open the door.”

A command, not a request. Maybe punching him was a better idea, even if he was helping her.

He believes you. The thought whispered through her, and her irritation eased marginally.

She left the chain on and cracked the door, peering at him blearily. “It’s six a.m., Finn. I was asleep.”


She looked him up and down. “No, you’re not.”

Was that a smile tugging at his lips? “Can I come in?”

She glanced down. “We’re still in PJs.”

“I can wait while you change.”

With a disgruntled sound, she closed the door to take the chain off then swung it wide and plunked her hand on her hip. “You couldn’t have waited for me to be awake?”

He didn’t answer for a long moment, and she swallowed as his gaze traveled from her eyes to her breasts then lower down her long legs.

“What can I do for you?” she asked, and smiled as he jerked his gaze up to her eyes.

Heat. Want. Need. All there in those blue depths. Then he blinked and…back to business. A bucket of ice water had nothing on Finn Conleth.

“I would’ve waited a little longer, but we believe your stalker is in the area,” he said.

Dread punched through her solar plexus and spread out from there, constricting her lungs, and taking over her legs, which no longer wanted to support her. “Oh.”

The room tilted, and she’d bet she was white as a sheet. Groping for the chair behind her, she dropped back to sit on the arm. Relief, only a thread of it, came next. Maybe she wasn’t responsible for the damn fires. She glanced over her shoulder, but Sera wasn’t there. She must’ve gone back to her room to dress.

Finn squatted in front of her, hands on her knees, like yesterday. Was that only yesterday? And just like last time, along with the blaze of awareness, comfort warmed her, as if absorbing into her bloodstream through his touch alone. She liked his hands with their long, thick fingers and nails cut neatly short. Hands that spoke of hard work and capability.

A glance up and she caught her breath. Mr. Down-to-Business was gone, the want back in those penetrating blue eyes.

“You okay?” He reached up and slid one of those hands under the fall of her hair to cup the back of her neck. “I shouldn’t have put it that bluntly. Sorry.”

She shook her head. “It’s better than me being crazy.”

He huffed a laugh. “I didn’t say you weren’t crazy.”

She focused on his lips, pulled up in the closest thing to a smile she’d seen yet, one that tripped up her already racing heart. Then raised her gaze to collide with eyes that singed her with pure need.

They stared at each other, and she silently willed him not to put up those walls again, to do something about this…palpable need. She wasn’t the only one feeling it. Not with the way his hunger stared back at her—raw and unmistakable.

“Bloody hell,” he murmured. Then he leaned forward and claimed her mouth in a kiss shocking in how achingly sweet it was.

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