Desiring the Reilly Brothers. Maureen Child

into doing a fivemile run. The summer heat had pounded at them and the humidity was enough to make a grown man weep.

      But as he pulled into the driveway that night, even exhaustion couldn’t completely stamp out the instantaneous reaction his body went into at Tina’s nearness.

      The house was lit up like a fistful of birthday candles. Every light in the living room was on and a wide slice of lamplight spilled from the kitchen windows onto the flower-lined driveway. Music, something soft and entreating, drifted through the partially opened window overlooking the drive. It all looked warm and friendly, but he knew that inside that house was the biggest danger of all.

      Brian walked along the driveway and stopped just short of stepping into the patch of light. Instead, he stayed in the shadows and looked through the kitchen window. Tina was there, alone, dancing slowly to the beat of the music playing on the stereo. His breath caught as he watched her move around the room in time to the music. Her body, long and lean and tanned, looked great in the shorts and skimpy tank top she wore. Her hips swayed, her eyes closed and when she lifted her arms like a gypsy dancer, it was all he could do to keep from storming into the room and grabbing her.

      He rubbed both hands across his face and told himself to get a grip. But it was impossible. When he was thirty thousand feet above the ground, in the cockpit of his F-18, blasting across the sky, he felt in control. Sure of himself. But with his feet firmly on the ground and Tina in Baywater, Brian was a drowning man going down for the third time.

      God, why was this so hard?

      He’d let her go five years ago because he’d believed, deep in his heart, he was doing the right thing for her. For both of them. And it was fairly easy to keep himself convinced of that when she was on the opposite end of the country.

      But now that she was home again.

      Here.

      Within arm’s reach—he wasn’t so sure anymore.

      As that thought skittered uneasily through his mind, he headed toward the stairs, determined to ignore Tina and sneak—correction—go home without seeing her. And take another cold shower.

      Of course, he’d forgotten about the damn dogs.

      Muffin and Peaches erupted into a cacophony of sound that damn near deafened him and Brian shot the closed, backyard gate a furious glare. The little mutts had it in for him.

      Suddenly the back door flew open, he turned to look and there was Tina, silhouetted in the doorway. His heart did a quick spin, jump and lurch and it was a second or two before he could draw an easy breath.

      “Quiet, girls,” she said and instantly, silence dropped over them.

      It was almost eerie.

      “Thanks,” Brian said with another glare for the two little meatheads hidden from sight behind the gate. “I’m still not sure why they hate me.”

      Tina cocked a hip and leaned one shoulder against the doorjamb. “Maybe they love you and they’re just too shy to show it.”

      He snorted. “Yeah, that’s it.” He lifted a hand and started for the stairs.

      “Brian?”

      He stopped and looked back, wishing he could just keep walking. “Yeah?”

      “Would you mind taking a look at Nana’s TV?”

      “What?”

      “The TV. It’s all fuzzed out and I can’t get a picture.”

      Go into the house? With her? Alone? Feeling like he did right now?

      Not a good idea.

      She saw him hesitate and spoke up before he could say no. “You’re not afraid of me, are you?”

      Brian snapped her a glance. He knew exactly what she was doing. She was challenging him. Throwing down a gauntlet. Making a dare. Because she knew he’d respond to it, damn it.

      “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said tightly.

      “Good. Then come around the front and you won’t have to fight your way past the dogs.”

      She let him in the front door and the music from the stereo reached out for him. Tina stood back for him to come inside, but he took a whiff of her perfume as he passed, just to make sure the torture continued. Seriously, he should try to find a way not to breathe when she was around. Because the only way he’d be safe from Tina was when he was buried six feet under and even then, he had a feeling she’d still be able to get a reaction out of him.

      “What’s wrong with the TV?” he asked, moving directly for it, hoping to make the repair and get out of there as fast as possible.

      “Now, if I knew that, I’d have fixed it, right?”

      She stood right beside him and from the corner of his eye, he got way too good a picture of her smooth, silky-looking legs. He shifted his gaze to the TV, telling himself to do the job and move on.

      Moving closer, Tina squatted down beside him until they were practically nose to nose. Her brown eyes glittered in the lamplight and her perfume reached for him, invading him. “You’re in my light,” he muttered.

      “Sorry,” she said, but didn’t move.

      Muttering beneath his breath, Brian punched the power button on the TV and was rewarded instantly with a screen full of flickering gray snow. No picture. No sound. Great.

      “What do you think?” she asked.

      “I don’t know,” he said, turning to look at her and finding her mouth was just a breath away from his. Why the hell was she leaning into him like that? How did she expect him to fix a damn television when she was practically sitting on his lap?

      His body tightened, his breath shortened and his heartbeat took off at a wild gallop. Gritting his teeth, Brian said, “You need to move so I can look behind the set.”

      “Okay.” She shrugged and the skinny little strap of her pale blue tank top slid down her right shoulder.

      Brian swallowed hard.

      “What’s the matter?” she asked, brown eyes wide with innocence.

      “Nothing,” he said, and inched past her to see the back of the television. He pried off the black plastic casing and stared blindly at the wires and chips he’d exposed. If his brain was working, he could probably figure this out, but at the moment, the only thing working was his groin.

      “Wow,” she murmured, leaning in to get a look at the television’s inner workings, “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

      Her hair was in his face now and the soft, silkiness of it brushed against his skin and filled his mind with the scent of flowers. Brian closed his eyes tightly, grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her out of the way as quickly as he could. And even then, it didn’t diminish the flash of heat rippling from his fingers, straight up his arms to rattle around in his chest. Touching Tina was like touching a live electrical wire.

      “If you’ll stay the hell outta the way,” he muttered, not daring a look at her again, “I’ll try to fix it.”

      “Pardon me,” she said, but she smiled and didn’t move away. Instead, she settled down and crossed her legs. Leaning her elbows on her knees, she rested her chin on her hands and watched him. “You always could fix just about anything,” she said.

      He tried to shrug that away. He wasn’t going to be led down memory lane. Not when he was already on pretty shaky ground. “I was always good with my hands.”

      “Yeah,” Tina said on a soft sigh, “I remember.”

      Oh man, he was in deep trouble here and sinking fast.

      “Look,” he said as he backed out from behind the TV while still trying to keep a safe distance from her, “maybe you’d better call a TV guy tomorrow and—”

      “What?”