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“I don’t mind a bit of dirt,” he insisted, settling on her chair. “I’m an outdoors kind of guy.”
She wouldn’t have guessed that, but now that he had said it, it made sense. Ivo was every inch the mainland Mountain Man, really, except for the way he dressed today. And that cologne. Spicy and rich, a whiff of it beckoned her closer with a crooked finger, daring her to bury her nose against his neck and breathe deep.
Goodness, where was her mind going? Blinking rapidly, she dried her hands and wiped them on her pants for good measure, not wanting to inadvertently get clay on his nice shirt, then hovered behind him.
“You start the wheel there… Yeah, just like that,” she instructed, nodding when he started the electric wheel on his own. “Now dip your hands in the water and use them to shape the clay. It’s pretty soft now, easy to mold.”
She had to give him credit: he moved like a total novice, but Ivo really went for it. Face pinched in concentration, he cupped his hands around the pot she’d been crafting—one she decided would be scrapped anyway—and tried to mimic her earlier movements.
Only to crush it between his palms, warping all her previous work into a pile of utter nothing.
“Damn it,” he grumbled, cheeks flaming with heat. When he cursed under his breath, his long, large fingers fumbling to fix what he’d done, Alani placed a gentle hand on his shoulder to stop him.
“It’s okay.” She crouched down a little further so she could place a guiding hand on each arm. Bicep. Very solid, firm bicep. Her cheeks soon matched his—pink and hot. “It’s easy to overwork it, especially if you’ve never done it before. Now you know what it feels like. Ease up on your grip. You have to be gentle.”
“Can’t say I’ve ever been known for being very gentle,” he muttered, perhaps more to himself than to her, but it made Alani smile all the same. Ivo drew in a soft breath as he regrouped, attacking the clay again with a renewed vigor. Alani giggled and shook her head, sliding her hands lower to his elbows.
“Gentler,” she chided. It was only then, as she felt the tension slowly leech from his body, that she realized how warm he was. Like her kiln, he seemed to radiate heat, warming her as she leaned over him. At that closeness, she could see the flecked gold and red and brown in his face scruff. Daring a glance at his eyes, she noted they weren’t the dark bottomless pits she’d originally thought they were, but rather a very warm, rather dark russet. They were beautiful.
Suddenly all she wanted to do was grab her notebook and sketch them, working through her colors until she got the shade just right.
Ivo turned suddenly, just an inch, and their faces bumped. Her first instinct was to rear back and apologize profusely, but Alani stayed firm, feet planted and hands gripping his elbows. Those beautiful eyes traced along her features, lingering on her lips before wandering up to her eyes.
And when they met, ocean blue to autumn night, she drew in a soft gasp, her stomach flip-flopping, and heat rising now between her thighs too. Her lips parted, tongue sweeping across the lower one briefly; the movement tore Ivo’s eyes from hers, and she found herself enchanted with the lush thickness of his eyelashes.
“Alani, did you want a cup of… Oh.”
She straightened sharply at the sound of Tanith’s arrival in the doorway, her whole body engulfed in one big blush that she felt on the verge of combusting. Ivo bowed his head somewhat, focusing on the clay—which had morphed into a big pile of nothing at this point.
“I’d love a tea,” Alani replied, smoothing her hand down her shirt and offering what she hoped was a natural smile to her purple-haired friend. After all, Tanith always asked if she wanted tea whenever the urge struck her to make it. “Thank you.”
Those deep green eyes swept between Ivo and Alani, and Tanith smirked. “Sure thing, sweetheart. Ivo, you want one too?”
“I’m good,” he grunted. “I’m trying to make a pot.”
“Yeah, looks like you’re doing a fantastic job,” Tanith fired back, her gaze sliding to Alani. “Maybe you just need a bit of guidance.” She winked. “Or some private tutoring…”
At Alani’s slightly narrowed stare, Tanith disappeared back into the hall, chuckling as she went, and Alani pressed her palms to her cheeks, feeling very much like a student who’d been caught canoodling with a boy by her teacher.
Ugh.
