He saw her hand on the rail as she turned the corner on the staircase. Glossy, purple nails, multiple silver rings on her fingers. Heavy bangles chimed against the banister. Then there she was, standing on the landing. All woman, fierce and strong, hot and seductive.
Skinny black jeans and a heavy studded belt at her waist revealed her curves. She wore layered tops, a black one with a multicolored Egyptian symbol tied under her bust. Around her neck multiples chains draped into the soft skin of her collarbone. Thick black hair tumbled over one shoulder, streaked here and there with purple and blue. She had more piercings than he remembered and her right forearm was covered in a full sleeve tattoo.
Curiosity throbbed through him. And the rest. He wanted to know every detail, everything. He wanted to examine her from top to toe. Touch her, kiss her. But all he could do stand in silence and stare, soak her in. Couldn’t think straight. Just enough to register she was hot and sexy as ever, but somehow more gorgeous. If that was even possible.
She eyeballed him through narrowed eyes. There was a distinctly mistrustful look in those eyes. And a warning. Sean broke into a grin. That was Rowan all over.
Surprise registered in her expression when he grinned. She hid it just as quickly, eyelids lowering, then strolled down the remaining stairs.
“Flying visit?” she addressed him sternly when she reached the hallway, folding her arms across her chest.
“You’re welcome to stay as long as you like, Sean.” It was Nan who spoke, and Aunt Gladys nodded her head, smiling.
He searched for the right thing to say, but what he really wanted to do was scoop Rowan up and steal her away so they could be alone, for a long time. However, he didn’t want to offend the ladies. No way.
Before he had a chance to give a vague reply, Rowan emitted an audible huff.
He raised an eyebrow.
Her gaze filled with warning.
Sean laughed softly, he couldn’t help it.
The icy stare intensified, but a flush appeared on her cheekbones.
Oh yes, it was still there between them. Her cool attitude was just an attempt to put distance between them, where he wanted none, but the resistance he felt emanating off her only made his blood heat more. She was all fire and it thrilled him. He wanted her to open to him, to melt into his arms, to lie down on her back rather than glaring at him. If he gained a few scratches from those talons of hers along the way he’d only savor them.
It would happen. Soon. He was sure of it.
Chapter Four
Rowan had seen the headlight as the Harley pulled off the main road onto their street. She watched from her room in the attic, peeping through the curtain into the rainy evening, wanting to know when he arrived, and yet determined not to make a fuss about it.
Clearing the mist from the window, she saw him unfurl his massive frame as he climbed off the bike. He reached back and unlatched his pannier bags, then looked over at th
e door to the house. Rowan’s breath caught. Each and every move she witnessed made her body tighten with anticipation.
He looked up, as if sensing he was being watched.
She let the curtain drop, darted over to the door, and listened.
There amongst the excited voices of her family-of-women she soon caught the sound of him—that deep and resonant Irish male voice she’d yearned to hear, the one she knew so well. Sean Rattigan, her first love—her stepbrother, the forbidden one—was in the house. Rowan would have paid to keep him away, even though she dreamed about him endlessly—day and night. She didn’t need him, never had. But he was a temptation she’d found it hard to say no to. It simply had to be different this time. Chill, she urged herself.
Quickly deciding to stay up there for at least ten minutes, she paced the room. Then her name was called.
Her skin prickled with self-awareness and anticipation. She barely got down the stairs without her legs giving way under her. Rattled, she barely managed to breathe while they sized each other up in the hallway. And now he was staring at her as if he expected her to drop her panties for him, right there on the spot.
“Lookin’ good Rowan.” His voice was gruff and intimate, and the comment seemed to make her skin race. But she didn’t need him to tell her that. She’d spent the last three hours getting ready on the off chance he turned up, but it was self pride that made her do it, that’s all. Why then, did her heart beat faster in response to his nonchalant comment? Why did her traitorous skin tingle under his scrutiny?
She nodded. It was about all she could muster. Why? She was shocked, that’s what it was. He looked different. What the hell had happened to him? He’d always been a big guy, tall and rangy, but Rowan’s knees nearly buckled when she got a look at him. The guy had been working out, big time. He was built.
Dressed in boots and faded black jeans, his T-shirt outlined the breadth of his shoulders and the lean line of his waist and hips. His hair was shaved close to his scalp making her fingers tingle with the need to explore. His hair used to be long, shaggy. He used to hide his eyes behind it when he glanced her way. Now there was no shielding his bold stare—and it was bold, blatantly hungry and expressive. There was no doubt he remembered what had gone down between them. Then there were his shoulders, which were enormous. Why did that make her feel so unsteady?
Maybe she’d expected him to be skinny after all those days in a cell. Instead he looked like a man with purpose, a man who knew what he was about. Sean had always looked sure of himself though—confident to the point of arrogance—but this was something else. There was a sense of grim determination about him, like he wouldn’t take no for an answer. The idea of it gave her a huge buzz. Because she knew for sure he wanted her. Badly. He’d meant the world to her at one point. Back then she’d have given anything for him to stay by her side. Not anymore, but it would be fun putting this great hulk of a man in his place—out in the cold.
But why not toy with him a while, a little devil whispered in her ear, reminding her of the things she tried and failed to forget. Those intimate moments. Just then she noticed a tattoo peeping out from his t shirt sleeve, coiling down his arm. It was some sort of tribal symbol. How far did it go? The tail of the design was visible of his collar bone, creeping around his neck. Even under a shirt collar it would be visible, and that rebellion sparked recognition in her. As teenagers they’d talked about tattoos, sharing daydreams.
And now here they were three years later, even though they’d moved forward without each other. With a wry smile, she acknowledged things that had drawn them together kept them loosely connected, even now. It wasn’t going to be easy, but she was sure she could handle it. She’d been alone long enough to be sure. Sean wouldn’t shred her resistance with a click of his fingers the way he once had. She wouldn’t let him.