Walking home's going to be...interesting half dressed." Alan mused as he dropped the shirt over the lip of the sink.
Shelby shot a look over her shoulder, but the retort she had in mind slipped away from her.He was lean enough so she could have counted his ribs, but there was a sense of power and endurance in the breadth of his chest and shoulders, the streamlined waist. His body made her forget any other man she'd ever seen.
It had been he,she realized all at once, whom she'd been thinking of when she'd thrown the clay into that clean-lined bowl.
Shelby let the first flow of arousal rush through her because it was as sweet as it was sharp. Then she tensed against it, rendering it a distant throb she could control.
"You're in excellent shape," she commented lightly. "You should be able to make it to P street in under three minutes at a steady jog."
"Shelby, that's downright unfriendly."
"I thought it was more rude," she corrected as she struggled against a grin. "I suppose I could be a nice guy and throw it in the dryer for you."
"It was your clay."
"It was your move," she reminded him, but snatched up the damp shirt. "Okay, come on upstairs." With one hand, she tugged off her work apron, tossing it aside as she breezed through the doorway. "I suppose you're entitled to one drink on the house."
"You're all heart," Alan murmured as he followed her up the stairs.
"My reputation for generosity precedes me.

Autore: Nora Roberts