Excerpt of Siren's Surrender by Devyn Quinn

Sitting shoulder to shoulder beside Blake Whittaker, Gwen sneaked another glance. He sat stone still, unmoving. In fact, he barely breathed. If she hadn’t been sure before, she was now. There was no missing his vibe. This man clearly had no love of the water. In fact, he was terrified. Sympathy welled up inside her. Everybody had a fear, some little something that sent a shiver down their spine. As the owner of her own little bag of insecurities, she could easily understand. Without knowing quite why, Gwen laid a hand on his arm. She leaned closer so he could hear her over the noise of the motor. “Lucky has been taking people across these waters all his life. He hasn’t lost one yet.” Fingers still locked in a clench, Whittaker shifted his body away from hers. “That’s good to know.” Gwen purposely let her hand drop. He obviously didn’t welcome personal contact. Still, she admired his determination. He was doing what his job required him to do, even if he didn’t like it. That took a lot of guts. “I take it you aren’t admiring the view.” His reply was short and sweet. “No.” Not a talky man at all. Heavens. He was as friendly as a rattlesnake. Her sympathy melted a bit. She was doing her best to be nice and all he could do was blow her off. “So are all agents trained to be rude sons of bitches or does it just come naturally to you?” Like a robot going into motion, Whittaker turned his head. One hand lifted. He pushed up his sunglasses, giving her a view of his eyes. “They train us to be bastards,” he answered with all seriousness. The impenetrable glasses went back down. Then, quite unexpectedly, he grinned. His smile caught her unaware, and her breath caught in her chest in surprise. “That’s good to know,” she squeaked like a nervous schoolgirl. Oh. My. God. The upturn of his lips made his mouth absolutely sensual. She hadn’t realized until that moment how damn good-looking he was. He had a face like granite, all sharp lines and angles: high forehead, chiseled cheekbones, strong straight jaw. He wore his black hair in a short uncombed style that helped soften the severity of his face. His suit fit him well, tailored to accentuate his muscular arms, broad chest, and washboard stomach. There wasn’t a spare ounce on his lean frame. Now that his demeanor had lost a layer of frost, he reminded Gwen of a stallion—roped and harnessed, forced to be tame. She couldn’t help but think that a wild streak lurked beneath the surface of his calm, straining to break free and run loose. She could imagine how Mr. Straight-Laced Tight-Ass might be in other situations . . . Feeling heat creep into her cheeks, Gwen quickly turned her head. While she’d never admit it out loud, she’d been reading a lot of erotic romances and wishing she was the heroine, being swept off her feet by the drop-dead gorgeous hero. Truth be told, Gwen actually had no idea what Whittaker might be like in bed. Or any other man for that matter. Though she wouldn’t admit it out loud, she’d never found a man she would dare to be that intimate with. Yes, she’d dated, had even fooled around a little. But she’d never taken the plunge and moved any of her relationships to the next step. She was twenty-seven years old and still a virgin. Gwen inwardly winced. Unlike Tessa and Addison, she didn’t have enough confidence in her body to strip to the buff in front of a human male. Needless to say, her boyfriends invariably got frustrated with her inhibitions and dropped her like a hot rock. And since Mers didn’t age like humans, it was beginning to look like she was going to have a long, lonely life ahead. Being the world’s oldest bachelorette didn’t appeal to her one bit. And just because she’d never had sex didn’t mean she didn’t think about it. She did. A lot. She gave Blake Whittaker another surreptitious peek. Oh goddess, he was pure eye candy. If I were going to give it up, that man would be the one. Everything about his looks appealed to her. But there was no way in hell she’d try getting down and dirty with a government agent. All she really wanted was for Agent Whittaker to get the hell out of town. The sooner, the better. Until that time, she doubted she’d breathe easy.