Page 2 of Temptress

“Not that I can tell.” I leaned in so close I practically smushed my face against the glass. “I can’t tell if he’s wearing a ring from this distance.”

“Then you know what you need to do, right? You need to go over there and introduce yourself to your sexy new neighbor. Then you’ll at least be able to spot whether or not there’s a ring.”

She was right. “I will. But they only just arrived, and it looks like the dad and daughter are arguing. I think I’ll give it a bit so I don’t interrupt anything.”

“All right, babe. Keep me posted.”

I promised her I would and clicked off just as the girl slammed her arms down at her sides, locking her elbows and clenching her fists as she threw her head back. I could almost hear what she would likely be saying with that posture. It was probably along the lines of what I’d said to my own father a million times growing up. “God, Dad!”

A moment later, she stormed into the house. The man stayed behind, either oblivious or uncaring of the movers passing back and forth, witness to whatever had just gone down.

His expression and the way his shoulders slumped as he pinched the bridge of his nose wasexactlyhow my own father would react to me storming off after the earlier mentioned, “God, Dad!” It was the look of every father of a teenaged daughter since the beginning of time.

Instead of following her into the house, he leaned back against the front bumper of his SUV and crossed his thick arms over his equally thick chest and watched as the movers worked.

I decided it was the perfect time to go over and introduce myself to my new neighbor. I grabbed a bottle of wine from the rack on my kitchen island and headed for the door.

Making a pit stop in the powder room off the kitchen, I gave myself a once over in the mirror. There wasn’t anything special about my thin cotton tee and pale gray joggers, but the top showed a hint of cleavage, and the pants made my behind look good. Well, the pants and the fact that my job as a dancer for the popular burlesque club, Whiskey Dolls, kept me in peak shape.

It was my day off, so I was in my comfy clothes with no makeup, but my new skin care regimen was giving my complexion a nice glow, and my hair was still looking good after my trip earlier that week to Pure Elegance, the best salon in the county. I lived one town over from Hope Valley, but the drive was worth it to have Nona work her magic. She’d chopped five inches off my light chestnut hair so it rested right at my shoulders. Without the added weight, I had volume for days, and was really pleased with how it still had that shine that seemed to only be accomplished in a professional salon.

I gave my locks one last quick fluff, then headed into the sunny day. I moved through the strip of lush green grass between our houses, letting my right hand gently crest over one of the bright pink roses on the bushes that I’d planted on the property line a couple years back. I’d always loved gardening and Lucille had always been a fan of beautiful flowers, so I’d planted the roses for both of us. I’d been tending and caring for those bushes, and now they stood tall, thick, and full of lush green leaves, the stems speckled liberally with bright, happy pink flowers.

My own yard was filled with them as well, along with a ton of other plants and flowers.

“Hi,” I called out as I crossed over onto his property. A moment later, my bright yellow flip flops slapped against the concrete of his driveway. I lifted my hand in a wave. “I’m your new neighbor,” I told the man, pointing over my shoulder at my house. “I just wanted to stop by and introduce myself, welcome you to the neighborhood.” I held out my free hand for a shake. “I’m Sloane Chambers.”

The man didn’t straighten from his position, still leaning against the front of the SUV, and he didn’t uncross his arms from his chest, which, now that I was up close, I could tell was just as cut as the rest of him. I was willing to bet he was sporting a six-pack at the very least. I could also see that the ring finger of his left hand was bare, not even a hint of a tan line indicating he’d taken one off recently. That finger had been bare for some time.

Asher would be happy to hear that.

He swiveled his head toward me, keeping those mirrored shades in place, and I couldn’t shake the feeling he was giving me a once over, but it felt more like being under a microscope than a look of interest. I was used to men looking at me the second way.

Sometimes I enjoyed it when I was in the mood for a little fun flirtation, and sometimes it grated, but such was life, right? I wasn’t above admitting I knew how to attract a man. I had skills—and a vagina, which basically meant I was magical—and if a man caught my eye, I’d use those skills to reel him in. And I would have been lying if I said I wasn’t throwing a bit of that magic out just then to see how my sexy new neighbor would react.

But judging by this guy’s flattened lips and the crinkle I could see forming between his brows, he was unaffected.

His head dipped down as though he were looking at my offered hand, but he didn’t bother taking it. “Silas Bridger,” he grunted in a deep baritone that held a hint of rasp, like he’d been a lifelong smoker.

I cleared my throat, suddenly feeling a bit awkward. “Well, um, it’s nice to meet you, Silas. I saw a very pretty young woman go inside. I take it that’s your daughter?” He answered by cocking a single brow high on his forehead but otherwise remained mute. “I’d love to give you and your daughter and wife an official welcome by making a home cooked meal for you guys.”

“Don’t got a wife, and no thanks.”

Well that answered one question. But also,ouch. Was this dude a robot or something?

Remembering the bottle of wine I gripped in my hand, I extended it out to him. “This is for you. A housewarming gift. Hope you like red.”

He did that head dip thing again, looking at the bottle from behind those sunglasses. Finally, he pushed off the SUV, but instead of turning to face me full-on, he started in the direction of the front door.

“Don’t drink wine,” he called without a backward glance. “Got shit to do.” Then he was gone.

And I was left wondering what the hell just happened.

2

SILAS

The pounding in my head certainly wasn’t improved by stepping out of the sunlight into my new home. Somehow, in the time between my last walk-through right before closing and now, I’d forgotten the hideous paint job in pretty much every single room of the house.

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