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A pair of startling green eyes caught his and Dean felt like he’d been kicked in the gut. His heart thumped heavily in his chest as little pin-pricks of awareness washed over him and he found he had trouble breathing. His muscles tensed even as his body hardened and began to throb painfully. He bit back a curse. He’d never had such a reaction to a woman before in his life.
Her gaze flicked between him and Nick as he brought up his I.D. and made the introductions. The woman nodded and stepped back, allowing them to enter. She closed the door firmly and turned to face them, her expression fraught with worry.
“I know who you are. I just got off the phone with Amelia. She told me you’d be coming,” she said, twisting her fingers together anxiously. When she caught him watching, she stuffed her hands into her snug jeans. “I’m Megan Bailey.”
He gave her a slow onceover, unable to help himself. He was curious about this woman and the overwhelming desire he had for her. The entire world seemed to melt away until all that was left was her.
She was beautiful in an understated way with a honey complexion and a small dusting of freckles on the bridge of her nose. Rich mahogany hair had been pulled back into a messy ponytail. She wasn’t overly tall, the top of her head only reaching his shoulders, but she was nicely filled out with curves in all the right places, her breasts high and full beneath her shirt, which clung to her like a second skin revealing her tucked in waist and the flare of her hips. He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry.
As if sensing his perusal, Megan glanced over at him and his knees weakened. Her eyes—those gorgeous emerald pools—pulled at him, so full of torment that his heart ached. Shit, this was crazy and so unlike him.
She blinked and he heard her sharp exhale, her mouth parted, and she looked so irresistible that he was sorely tempted to cross the short distance between them and find out if she tasted as good as she looked. He was at a loss, unable to pull away as she continued to stare at him. Was she feeling as out of control as him?
He forced himself back on track. He was here to work a case, not look for his next bed partner, and while Megan was quite delectable, she would hardly do. She wasn’t the type of woman a man fooled around with unless he had forever in his mind, and Dean Matthews didn’t do forever. No matter what his body was telling him.
He certainly wasn’t sex-starved, although it had been a while since he had hit the sheets with a woman. The case was taking up all his time, and he couldn’t think of anything else even when he had a rare moment alone to sleep. It was disconcerting and he wasn’t sure he liked it, bringing about feelings he’d long ago rejected.
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