Surf's Up Page 3

  “I know,” she said, and laughed, the sound warm and rich and wholly feminine. “It’s breathtaking, isn’t it?”

  “Absolutely stunning.” Gently, he dropped the pricey gem back into the palm of her hand so she could slip it into the safety of the velvet pouch. “I’ll bet, with the right buyer, it’ll fetch you a hefty commission once the ring is designed and the stone is set.”

  “God, I hope so.” She tightened the closure on the small sack, then smiled up at him. “And speaking of commissions, I need to take a shower and get this latest piece I just finished down to the jeweler’s. They’re expecting the pendant this afternoon.”

  “And I need to get to the pub.” The bar didn’t open until four in the afternoon, but he had a pile of paperwork to wade through. “Now that you’re settled in here at the house, why don’t you come by for a drink and appetizers some time? On the house.”

  “That would be nice.” Her eyes sparkled like the jewel she’d just showed him. “I think I will.”

  The awareness was back, a slow, undeniable pull he was hard-pressed to resist. When she tipped her head to the side and those loose curls of hers fell across her cheek, he couldn’t stop the desire that took hold. Need and restraint collided, shattering the limitations that had always stood between them. And with those restrictions gone, it was easy to finally give free rein to bold and provocative impulses.

  Deliberately holding her gaze, he reached out and let his fingers caress the line of her jaw. Gently. Evocatively. In a way that was unmistakably intimate. That touch stripped away emotional barriers and told her without words that he wanted her. In more ways than she could ever imagine.

  In response, her eyes darkened to a smoky, arousing shade of blue, exciting him with her ability to recognize and embrace the attraction between them. He stroked his fingers down the side of her neck, and her lips parted with a soft, inviting sigh—and that was all the encouragement he needed to seize the moment.

  Sliding his hand through the hair at the nape of her neck, he lowered his head and slid his lips across hers in a warm, sweet kiss. That sensual contact should have been enough to satisfy him, but instead it made him crave much, much more of her. And, surprisingly, it was Claire who opened her mouth beneath his and granted him what he wanted so badly . . . A deeper, hotter taste.

  Their tongues touched and tangled, slowly, softly, erotically. A low groan rumbled in her throat, and then he felt her hand on his bare chest—no doubt an instinctive reaction on her part, and one that made his lower body grow stiff and hard. Carnal hunger surged through him, heating his blood and bringing all his senses to life. As did this incredibly responsive woman.

  Knowing she wanted him just as much was a heady, thrilling sensation. That insight was also enough for him to end their kiss and give her time to think about their chemistry. Time to realize just how good the two of them could be together. Time to come to the decision to give their attraction a chance and see where it might lead.

  Untangling his fingers from the silky fall of her hair, he drew back, which effectively caused her hand to drop to her side, too. She appeared stunned—in a very good way. Like she couldn’t quite believe that the two of them could generate so much heat together. Like she was considering coming back for more.

  Shea stifled a groan. He needed to get the hell out of there before he forgot all about giving her time and instead gave in to the urge to lift her up onto her drafting table, peel off her swimsuit, and take this encounter to a whole other level of erotic pleasure.

  Forcing himself to step away from the temptation she presented, he flashed her a smile, along with a wink. “I’ll see you around, Claire.”

  Then he turned around and left, leaving the next move up to her.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Claire checked her appearance one last time in the floor-to-ceiling mirrored closet doors in the master bedroom. Making a statement and catching Shea’s attention when she walked into his pub tonight were her ultimate goals. And she was fairly certain she’d accomplish her mission because she looked damn good in her new dress, if she didn’t say so herself.

  She hadn’t seen or talked to Shea in two days. Not since he’d kissed her with such heat and desire and left her aching to feel that amazing mouth of his on more than just her lips. She wasn’t avoiding him, but rather she’d been so busy that she hadn’t had much free time to herself.

  When she’d dropped the pink sapphire pendant off at Seaport Jewelers that afternoon, she’d met with two customers who were interested in commissioning her to design them custom-made pieces. One wanted emerald earrings, and the other wanted a diamond-and-tanzanite bracelet in a unique, floral design. In hopes of making a good impression, she’d spent the past two days sketching different designs. This morning, she’d presented her ideas to the clients and had gotten their approval to proceed with the pieces of jewelry, along with a substantial down payment.

  So, tonight was also a celebration for Claire. No more work, just play. Hopefully with Shea. She planned to savor the sweetness of success, revel in her single status, and embrace the sensual woman emerging after five long years of being stifled.

  And, oh, was she ever emerging in style, Claire thought with a grin. For tonight’s adventure she’d bought a new tank dress with spaghetti straps that was sexy and formfitting and ended mid-thigh. The coral color offset her tan and made her eyes bluer than usual. She’d left her hair down and loose and added gold hoop earrings and three matching bangle bracelets for a little bit of flash. All in all, the look was casual, but flirtatious enough to catch a certain someone’s eye.

  Zoey strolled into the room, sat down next to where Claire was standing, and surveyed her mistress in the mirror with a very indulgent stare.

  “So, what do you think, Zoey-Girl?” Claire asked as she smoothed a hand down the front of her dress, as much to straighten the fabric as to help soothe the nervous sensation in the pit of her stomach.

  Zoey gave Claire her approval by rubbing against her leg with a rumbling, affectionate purr.

  Claire laughed, which helped to chase away some of her insecurities. “You’re so good for my confidence. Let’s hope Shea likes the dress just as much as we do.”

  She’d never seduced a man in her life, but tonight she was going to try her hand at being a temptress with Shea. His kiss had started a fire in her, one that burned brighter and hotter than anything she’d ever experienced. And that was enough to know that she wanted it all with this man. Mind-numbing pleasure. Slow, steamy, carnal sex. Mutual erotic fantasies fulfilled and explored. A couple of orgasms would be nice, but if it didn’t happen she wouldn’t hold it against him. She’d never been the orgasmic type—at least not with Alan, or the two men she’d been with before him.

  Inhaling a deep, fortifying breath, she slipped into her sandals, then grabbed her purse and a gift she’d bought for Goldie before heading out of the door to proposition Shea O’Brien with a no-holds-barred affair.

  She had nothing to lose . . . and so much to gain.

  Shea stood behind the brass-and-mahogany bar at O’Brien’s, trying to keep his hands and mind busy serving up drinks to the Friday night happy hour customers so he didn’t have to come to terms with the possibility that he’d blown his chances with Claire.

  Two long, excruciating days had passed without a word from her, and Shea was beginning to suspect that he’d crossed a line he never should have overstepped by kissing her. Hard to believe, considering how soft and warm and eager she’d been with him. But maybe, once he’d left and she’d had time to think, she’d decided that she just wasn’t ready for a relationship. Either that, or he’d misread the entire situation.

  He filled a pint with Killian’s Irish Red on tap and turned back to the bar to set the glass in front of the customer who’d ordered the brew. As he started making his next drink for the bar waitress to deliver to a table, his gaze automatically scanned the crowd to make sure that the customers were happy and there weren’t any potential p
roblems to handle.

  Satisfied that all was running smoothly, he was about to glance away to focus on mixing a cocktail just as he saw Claire enter the pub—alone and looking hotter and sexier than he’d ever seen her before. Judging by the male heads that craned in her direction as she walked by their tables, he wasn’t the only guy who noticed the sexy little dress she was wearing that showcased her gorgeous figure, or the way her tousled blond hair made it look as though she’d just tumbled from some man’s bed.

  He wanted that bed to be his, and only his.

  From across the room her gaze found and met his, and his pulse sped up a few beats in anticipation. Her pink, glossy lips curved into a smile and she gave him a friendly little wave before taking a seat at a small, vacant table. A waitress took her order and headed back to his end of the bar.

  “I need a Cosmo, Shea,” she said, and unloaded from her tray the empty beer glasses that needed to be washed.

  He’d been expecting the drink she’d always ordered when she’d been with her husband. A nice and safe wine spritzer. He found it intriguing that she was venturing beyond the prim and predictable.

  He added the ingredients for a Cosmopolitan in a cocktail shaker and was pouring the drink into a martini glass when a guy came up to the bar and stood in front of Shea.

  “I’d like to buy that woman’s drink,” he said, and pointed toward where Claire was sitting, listening to the Friday night band Shea had hired for weekend entertainment.

  She was still alone, thank God. But Shea was certain that wouldn’t last for long. Most bars were pickup joints, and O’Brien’s had its fair share of men who were looking for a good time. Watching single couples hook up for the night had never bothered Shea before. Then again, he’d never cared about the women who frequented his establishment. Had never been so emotionally invested in one of his customers like he was with Claire.

  And that was enough to make him extremely protective about her. “Sorry, but the drink has already been bought.”

  The other man frowned in disappointment. “By who?”

  Shea added a lime twist garnish to the Cosmo. “By me.”

  The guy eyed him enviously. “Lucky you,” he muttered, then walked away.

  Shea was hoping he’d get lucky, all right. He turned to the other bartender working for the night, knowing that Mark was more than capable of handling the Friday evening crowd on his own. “Consider me off the clock for the rest of the night. If you need a hand behind the bar, Cal will help you out,” he said of the pub’s manager, who was on duty.

  Mark gave him a quick salute and a grin. “You got it, boss. Have a good time.”

  Oh, he intended to. He rarely took a night off for himself, preferring to work the pub and keep up customer relations. But this was one opportunity he wasn’t about to pass up.

  After ordering a platter of potato skins for an appetizer, he grabbed a cold bottle of Summit Extra Pale Ale for himself, picked up Claire’s drink, and made his way across the bar to her small table.

  He set the martini glass on a napkin in front of her, a little taken aback by the big rawhide bone with a red bow tied around it that was sitting on the table. “I believe you ordered a Cosmopolitan,” he said over the music the band was playing.

  She looked up at him in pleasant surprise, captivating him with a dazzling grin. “I did, but I didn’t expect the owner to deliver it to me personally. Talk about service.”

  Smiling back, he shrugged. “Customer satisfaction is what it’s all about.”

  Her laugh was low and husky. “I’ll be sure to remember that.”

  He’d never seen this flirtatious side of Claire’s, but he found her lighthearted teasing absolutely irresistible, and arousing as hell. “Mind if I join you?”

  “I’d love the company.” She waved a hand toward the empty chair across from her.

  He sat down, watching as she pursed her lips to take a drink of the pale pink liquid in her glass. She closed her eyes and followed that sip with a long, appreciative mmmmmm that spiraled straight to his groin like a slow, heated caress.

  Shifting in his chair, he sought to redirect his thoughts away from Claire’s sensual enjoyment of her drink. “What brings you by?” As much as Shea wanted her visit to be all about him, he wasn’t ready to assume anything.

  She blinked her eyes back open, their depths a soft, mellow shade of blue. Much like he imagined they’d look after enjoying a lazy Sunday morning of sex.

  “Actually, there are three reasons I’m here.” With a smile, she began ticking off each point on her fingers. “One, I believe you invited me. Two, I brought a gift for Goldie to thank her for saving my life the other day. And three, I’m here to celebrate.”

  So, that explained the rawhide bone, he thought with amusement. Unfortunately, there was nothing specific about him in those reasons, but he was still hopeful. “What are you celebrating?”

  “Two new jewelry sales.” She literally beamed. “Emerald earrings and a diamond-and-tanzanite bracelet.” Her voice was infused with pride.

  “Good for you.” He raised his bottle of beer in a toast to her recent success. “Congratulations, and here’s to many more sales.”

  “Thank you.” She clinked the rim of her glass to his bottle, then took a drink.

  His gaze fell to the dog treat on the table. “So, you bought Goldie a rawhide bone for helping to save your life. What do I get?” he asked shamelessly.

  Crossing both arms on the table in front of her, Claire leaned forward. The position pushed her breasts up, nearly causing them to spill over the top of her dress. “What would you like?”

  Talk about a loaded question. He wanted everything she was willing to give. Maybe even more. And he figured it was time to put his interest in her out in the open and told her so. “I want you, Claire.”

  Her eyes widened. Despite her own brazen question, he’d obviously shocked her with his equally bold and honest answer. She studied him for a moment before asking, “Are you being serious, or are you just flirting with me?”

  Holding her bright gaze, he let the awareness between them build and grow before he responded. “I’m as serious as a man can get about a woman.”

  She dampened her bottom lip with her tongue, the only indication that she was a bit nervous and wasn’t nearly as experienced at this sort of thing as she made it seem. But what she lacked in practical application, she more than made up for in effort and pure female sensuality. She had both in abundance.

  Lifting her martini glass to her lips, she finished the last of her drink, as if she needed something to bolster her courage to accept his proposition. She inhaled a deep breath, then she smiled across the table at him—a sultry, confident curve of her lips that was as provocative as it was sweet.

  “In that case, consider me yours,” she said.

  A rush of adrenaline shot through Shea. Remaining calm and in his seat was extremely difficult, especially when he had the primal male urge to drag her back to his office and let her make good on her offer right then and there.

  Luckily, the arrival of the appetizer he’d ordered kept him from following through on the wicked idea. But despite the interruption, he wasn’t about to let her forget her promise, either.

  The waitress set the platter on the table, along with small plates. Shea gave the waitress Goldie’s rawhide bone and asked her to put the dog treat behind the bar for him. He’d take it home later. Then he and Claire dug into the hot and crispy potato skins.

  “I’ve always been curious. Is O’Brien’s a family-owned business?” Claire asked as she smothered her slice of potato skin with sour cream.

  Knowing they’d eventually get back to the subject of them, he accepted the change of topic for now. “No, it’s all mine.” And unlike his father, who’d stolen from the rich to amass his fortune, Shea was proud to say that he’d built his business honestly, with long hours and a whole lot of sacrifice. He’d learned the hard way that thieves didn’t always prosper in the end. It was a
lesson that had undoubtedly saved him from a life of crime.

  “Do you have family nearby?”

  He swallowed the bite he’d just taken and shook his head. “My mother passed away when I was just a kid, and my father, who’d immigrated to the U.S. when he was twenty-one, moved back to Ireland about seven years ago.” Collin O’Brien had settled into a rich, respectable life, with a wife who enjoyed the finer things—including the jewels Shea’s old man had managed to heist during his glory days. It had been years since he’d talked to his father—not since he’d failed in the one area his dad had expected him to excel. Shea’s inability to follow in his father’s footsteps was a huge source of disappointment for Collin O’Brien.

  He watched Claire lick off a piece of cheese that was stuck to her thumb, then reach for another section of the appetizer. “So you come by that Irish heritage of yours legitimately.”

  He laughed easily. “Half of it, anyway. My mother was English, so the Irish genes have been diluted a bit.”

  She smiled, looking more relaxed and at ease than she had all evening. “Any siblings?”

  “I’m an only child.”

  Her lovely features lit up in amazement. “Hey, me, too.”

  It was nice that they had that in common. “Where do your parents live?” he asked curiously. “In New York?”

  “No, right now they’re overseas in Germany, where my father is stationed in the army.” Done with her snack, she wiped her hands on a napkin and pushed her plate away. “I grew up as a military brat, so I’ve lived in a lot of places.”

  He digested that information as he finished his beer. “How did you end up in New York?”

  “I grew up mostly in small towns, so when I graduated from college, I thought it would be exciting to live in the big city.” Her wry tone told him that she’d overestimated the lure of New York City.

  “And that’s where you met Alan.” The music around them was loud, as was the Friday evening crowd, but there was no doubt that Claire had heard his comment . . . and obviously didn’t want to talk about her ex.