Lucy’s thoughts drained, as if her brain had turned into a colander. Every muscle in her body coiled tightly as a man stepped right out of every woman’s fantasy and somehow materialized in the coffee shop. Before anything else registered, she noticed the way he walked. He moved like he was walking toward a lover. A lover he planned on thoroughly roughing up before making her scream obscenities into a pillow. The sensual, detached movement of his hips was a complete contradiction to his eyes and jaw, however. They were set firmly, making him look ruthless. Unmovable.

Dark hair, dark expression, dark clothing. He was just…several shades of dark. Except for his eyes, she amended as he coolly scanned the shop. His eyes were light gray. In the midst of all that darkness, they stood out like silvery marcasite.

She couldn’t stop her gaze from tracking downward, over broad shoulders, a wide chest, and a heavy leather belt that rode low on his waist. As if a good stretch would reveal his happy trail and that cut vee leading into his jeans. Speaking of jeans, good Lord, the man’s ass was a bona fide work of art. As he strode toward the nearby counter to place his order, his work boots not making a single sound, those tight buns set off a choir of rejoicing angels in her head.

Then he opened his mouth to address the barista and the angels’ mouths snapped shut.

“Can you tell me where 39 Juniper Street is located?”

Huh? Lucy’s spine went rigid. That was her address. Perhaps he was looking for someone else in her building? She and Sasha shared a two-bedroom in an off-campus dwelling, in which there were at least twenty other apartments. That had to be it. This work of male perfection could not be the boring, stuffy ex-military sniper her brother had sent to squire her down to the city. Brent’s description could not have painted a different picture. No, this guy had to be looking for someone else.

The barista behind the counter looked like she’d just gone for a swim in a lake full of stupid. “What?” She cleared her throat and smiled. “I mean…what?”

Buns of Glory sighed. “Thirty-nine Juniper. My GPS says it’s nearby, so I thought I’d walk the rest of the way. Can you point me in the right direction?”

Another barista joined her. “What?”

Now Lucy sighed on his behalf. Communication must be difficult when your ass whittled the opposite sex’s vocabulary down to one word.

“Never mind, I think I can track it down.” He gave a faint smile and Lucy swore she could hear panties hit the floor. “I’ll take a medium coffee to go. Black.”

Not the sugar-and-cream type. No surprises there.

Barista Number One appeared to finally regain her senses. “Are you visiting someone at the college? I haven’t seen you here before.”

He handed her a crisp bill. “No, I live in Manhattan. I’m just here to pick up a girl.”

Oh shit. He is Matt Donovan. That was Lucy’s first thought. Her second? If her brother had condoned her spending hours in a confined space with this gorgeous man, he had quite a lot to learn about her.

“So…are you picking up just any ol’ girl or a specific one?”

Oh, for the love of double Spanx.

“Specific.”

“Lucky girl.” Barista Number Two with the gem! “She must be pretty special to drive all this way.”

Matt took the paper coffee cup she offered. “Actually, from what I hear, she’s kind of a nuisance.”

Inside Lucy’s head, the studio audience broke into a barrage of oh hell no’s. She sat up so straight in her booth, she would have feared spinal damage if she could manage to think past her annoyance. A nuisance? On top of her double-ditching that day, the word was like water being poured over hot sauna rocks. They caused her anger to sizzle and snap dangerously. Somewhere underneath all that, a stab of hurt existed, but she didn’t want to acknowledge that just yet.

He picked that moment to turn and lock eyes with her across the ten feet separating them. She had the satisfaction of watching his coffee cup pause halfway to his mouth before continuing its journey toward sculpted, masculine lips. Long-denied heat trickled through her, cutting right through her bout of self-pity. Desire. It had been a long time since she’d felt it. Perhaps that was why it tumbled through her midsection now after having been raveled up for years. As if he’d projected the image into her head, she saw those distracting lips feasting on her neck. A neck that had surely turned candy-apple red thanks to the direction of her thoughts.

Feeling this insistent attraction to her brother’s best friend was inconvenient at best. Nor could she act on it. Based on what she’d been told about him, he was the honorable type. The voice of reason in their dude foursome. He would never make a move on “Brent’s little sister.” Especially when said little sister had been painted as nothing more than an irritating pest.

Unless, of course, he didn’t know who he was putting the moves on.

Matt still watched her closely, but his expression showed no signs of recognition. Apparently Brent hadn’t passed on a formal dossier complete with recent photos, because Matt was looking her over in a very on-limits kind of way. And boy oh boy, she liked it. Her nerve endings were tingling, ni**les pebbling underneath her tank top in a way that had nothing to do with the air-conditioning. When his attention shifted to her bare legs visible beneath her cutoff shorts, warmth settled between her thighs. Was it her imagination or had he just growled at her?

Lying about her identity would be wrong. So very wrong. She couldn’t do it. Could she? Her ethics professor would shit a brick. Not to mention, something told her this man wouldn’t take kindly to being duped. Her only alternative was to stand up right now and introduce herself as Lucy Mason before it was too late. It would guarantee she arrived safely in Queens, untouched. Hot and bothered with no weapon to combat it, save the five-fingered one attached to her wrist. No closer to shedding the boredom wrought by the last two years.

It sounded horrible, but she was woman enough to admit that, on top of wanting this insanely hot man, her ego needed a little boost. She’d been dateless for too long, she’d been ditched by everyone, and now she’d been labeled a nuisance. Maybe just this once, she could get hers and say to hell with the consequences, the way she used to. The dormant daredevil inside her stretched and looked around sleepily.

Lucy pushed back her chair and stood. Pasting what she hoped was a flirtatious smile on her face, she walked toward Matt and extended her hand. “I couldn’t help but overhear that you’re looking for 39 Juniper.”

He grunted into his coffee. Not exactly the reaction she’d been looking for. No matter, she’d just have to try again. After all, she hadn’t gotten to be second place in every competition under the sun without learning a few tricks along the way. Garnering her courage, she ran a hand through her curls and cocked one hip. His teeth sank into his lower lip. There. Now she had his attention. “I’m Sasha, Lucy Mason’s roommate. Looks like you’re here to give me a ride.”

Chapter Two

Hop on, baby. I’ll give you a f**king ride.

The thought blew swift and furious through Matt’s consciousness before he banished it, locking it safely behind a steel-reinforced door. This girl, the one who stood in front of him looking like a virgin sacrifice sent to tempt his sanity, wouldn’t last five minutes with him before she ran off screaming. He knew that, and yet he couldn’t look away.