Page 10 of The First Spark

How long was I perched on this ladder with this woman clinging to me?

That’s it. Oriana Thorne is a damn siren—a beautiful but deadly creature who seduces a man before dragging him to a watery grave. Or in this case, a crash to the floor below.

“We’re fine. Just another loose rung.” I duck my head toward Oriana’s face, still burrowed against me. “Are you ready?”

Oriana lifts her head, her dark eyes wide behind her glasses. She bites her lip and glances at the floor. “I’m ready. You sure I’m not too heavy?”

“Not even a little bit.”

With careful, measured steps, I descend the ladder, her siren scent messing with me the entire time.

Much more of this, and I won’t be accountable for my actions.

But Oriana doesn’t release her grip on me, even though we’re safely on solid ground. She clutches at me as though terrified the floor might suddenly give way beneath us.

“We’re off the ladder,” I whisper, my hand offering a reassuring stroke along her spine. “You’re okay.”

And sheisfine. I’m the one who isn’t okay.

Her breath warms my neck, her lips hovering so close to my skin that I can almost feel them.

Now, I’m nursinganotherproblem and need to put some distance between us immediately.

“Thank you.” Her voice is soft and her lower lip wobbles as she chances a glance in my direction.

Fuck, Oriana has a beautiful mouth. Then again, aren’t sirens notoriously appealing, right before they drag you to your death?

“Can we go now? I really need that drink.” Lydia clears her throat, her foot tapping the floor as she shoots darts in our direction.

Easy, sweetheart. You’ll get your turn.

But unless Lydia’s angling for a threesome, I need to deal with the petite woman in my arms—a woman who seems in no hurry to escape.

Looks like the Ice Queen has a heart, after all. Or at least a healthy libido.

I shoot Oriana my trademark smirk. “Darling, I know you like being in my arms, but my date is waiting.”

Oriana’s gaze clears as though she was part of the same trancelike state as me. Shaking her head, she scrambles off me, gifting me with a flash of her stomach before yanking her shirt down. “Right. Sorry about that.”

Her words say one thing, but her gestures and the flush climbing her cheeks say another.

Maybe I’m a bastard, but I love the idea that she felt it, too.

Whateveritwas.

I take my coat from Lydia, shooting another cocky grin toward Oriana. “Not a problem. Happy to be of service, although you didn’t have to fall off a ladder to get my attention. You could have just told me you wanted to be in my arms.”

Oriana scoffs and shoves her glasses up her nose. “For a second there, I actually thought you were a nice guy. My mistake.”

And once again, the boxing gloves are on.

I’m not sure why her caustic reply irks me so much, but there is no way I’ll allow this woman the last word.

Seems she isn’t done shooting zingers in my direction. "I'm shocked you didn't let me fall.” Her voice is low as she picks at an imaginary thread on her blouse, her cheeks bright pink.

I glare at her as my heroic moment twists into frustration. "Trust me, I considered it. But then I remembered I have far more important places to be than waiting here for the ambulance.”

“Enjoy your date, or whatever you call it,” she snaps.

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