Her heart rocketed into her throat, beating for freedom. It was a stern-faced Marcus McGrath, kitted out in dark trousers, a navy shirt open at the top button and fitted to his muscular torso like it was made just for him.
His towering physique was framed by the glassy moonlit Lough in the distance. A designer watch face glittered when it caught the light from behind her.
Oh shit!
“Just a minute while I unhook the safety chain,” she said breathlessly.
When she closed the door on him, her heart hammer in her chest and she sucked in a steadying breath to wrangle composure.
Why the hell was he here and not at his club?
Her trembling hands brushed a few crumbs off her chest. Then she combed her fingers through the ends of her hair and breathed into her palm.
She muttered inwardly, thanking the universe for the plain potato chips she’d eaten rather than Rory’s toxic sour cream and chive.
When the door reopened, his jaw was clamped shut, his gorgeous bold green eyes seizing her up. “Can I come in please?”
Never invite the devil into your house, Lana.
She didn’t heed her own thoughts, consciously inching back to allow him entry.
Marcus McGrath, the sexiest man alive was standing in her living room, inches away from the paused movie on her laptop, which thankfully faced the wall.
His brooding presence stunned her, blurring her thoughts with just one glance. Fidgeting with his car keys, his eyes settled on her shapely bare legs slowly moving upwards to her braless breasts.
At a quick glance, she noticed her nipples poking through the thin material of her top. He did that to her. All him.
A hand slid to her midriff, the opposite arm shielded her visible arousal. “Can I get you a drink?” She tapped the slight smile dancing on her lips with the pad of her forefinger.
“Sure.” His manly baritone scattered minuscule prickles of delight over her skin like tiny sex bombs. “Water will do, I’m driving.”
Lana turned on her heels, still hugging herself, knowing her skimpy shorts would creep up her buttocks when she walked.
There was no way she would pick them out from between her ass cheeks in front of him. So she hitched her chin, sucked in quickly and marched into the kitchen.
When she was out of sight, she fixed the offending wedged shorts and gripped the counter to balance herself.
“I’ve interrupted you.” He filled the doorway to the kitchen, his arm resting on the architrave above his head. “If you wanted action, you should have gone to my club.” Beautiful full lips hinted a smirk. “You got the invitation, right?”
“I did. And you haven’t interrupted me at all. I was simply enjoying a night to myself. I wasn’t feeling well earlier, that’s all.”
Icy cold water gushed from the tap and splattered her top. “Shit,” she muttered to herself and rolled her eyes.
It was undeniable, he made her a little unsteady and extremely nervous.
The left side of his mouth rose as he watched her pat the splash with a hand towel. “I’m assuming the porn made you feel better? Because you look perfect to me.”
Her belly flipped. Perfect.
A flush of crimson rose from her chest to her throat. He looked at the laptop. “Did you come here to snoop?” She forced a scowl to hide the cringing embarrassment.
How dare he show up unannounced on her doorstep and spark a trillion barbs of excitement. Each wicked explosion making her unbalanced.
“Not at all.” Marcus shook his head slowly, his eyes drilling into her.
Lana slid the glass of water across the counter. “There you go. Is this a curtesy call?”
She stood in silence, her eyes trained to his thirsty gulp as water coated his lips. A rogue trickle escaped the edge of his mouth, rolling through his dark bristled chin.