Claiming the Temptress. Renee Field

rail and shouldered other men out of his way.

      It was the perfect spot to observe Lily. Her long legs were naked and the soft glow of all that honey-colored skin made his mouth water. She wore a red, clingy skirt that was way too short for his liking, and a top that failed miserably to contain her lush cleavage. Her round, sassy ass swayed to the beat of the music, causing Rourk’s heart to pound harder in his chest. She was being a flirt. Every male eye in the place followed her movements like a lovesick eel.

      Her sensual body bumping and grinding to the hard core music, she danced with a huge smile on her face, making her look even more exotic with her light bronzed skin. It dawned on Rourk just how happy she looked. She had smiled and teased him with a flash of those pearly whites while he had been a slave, but seeing her in human form made her appear more real. In their realm she always came across as controlled and polished. Here she seemed unguarded, and something slightly vulnerable peeked out from behind her green eyes. The idea shocked him. Lily might playact at being human, but she was Siren to the core.

      A black corset tied in the front with bright red laces pushed up her large breasts. Her flaming orange hair swirled wildly around her head. She had everyone’s undivided attention. Most importantly Rourk’s.

      “Fucking sexy thing,” said the man next to him.

      Rourk elbowed the man off the bar stool. His eyes burned to make the man forget the sight of Lily—his Lily—fully clothed, but looking like an enticing stripper on the dance floor. The man took one look at Rourk, grumbled some human obscenity and wisely left.

      Rourk would have loved to punch the man in the face, but wasn’t without morals. He savored Lily’s confident, exhibitionistic dancing. Deep down, he knew her father would have unleashed a tidal wave if he ever learned his soft-spoken, apparently docile daughter had a wild side. Rourk knew more about Lily’s character than her dearest family members. After all, he’d had a good century to observe her, and more important, listen to her curse about the lack of control she had under her father’s rule.

      As a demigod, free now from Poseidon’s leash, Rourk found his powers were back in his control. Morals be damned. He needed to know what his feisty new bride thought.

      Shock rippled through him when he shamelessly scanned her mind, and a confident, macho grin surfaced on his face. She naively thought her father was marrying her off to a god of the House of Justice—a paper-pusher. The idea was so far from the truth Rourk almost laughed. However, all joviality left him the minute he sampled what she wanted. A warrior. A god who did instead of said. A god with integrity. A god who would make her wet with desire.