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Which really made her present predicament pretty damn ironic. But as long as she kept control of the situation and her emotions out of it, everything would be fine, and her heart would remain safe.

Tossing the cloth aside, Lilly shut off the water and snagged a towel. She dressed before the shower’s warmth could abandon her bones. Releasing her hair from the clip she’d secured it with, she headed to the kitchen to get a much-needed caffeine fix. That plan became derailed when she inspected the package of coffee and realized she’d accidentally bought whole bean instead of ground. Groaning, she slumped against the counter and peered through the tiny window at the snowflakes pirouetting outside. Do I really need coffee that badly?

Her groggy brain responded with a Hell yes. She nibbled her thumbnail as she eyed the dense stand of pines separating the farthest corner of her property from Dante’s. No doubt he had plenty of coffee in that well-stocked kitchen of his. But if she went over there, he’d assume she was using the visit as an excuse to jump him. Which now that she thought about it, sounded pretty damn appealing.

No, she refused to allow her hormones to get the last word, damn it. Besides, becoming dependant on Dante for anything—even coffee—was the last thing she wanted to do.

Grumbling beneath her breath in an effort to drown out the persistent pleas of her inner slut, she stalked from the kitchen and swiped her coat and keys on the way to the front door. She paused long enough to struggle into her winter gear before braving the elements outside. Shivering, she cranked the Escape’s heater to full blast and left the vehicle to warm up while she returned to the cabin and applied some blush and lip-gloss—neither of which were intended to appeal to a certain werewolf on the off chance she ran into him in town. Keeping that pathetic lie firmly planted in her mind, she locked up the cabin and returned to her car. Fortunately the interior temperature no longer resembled that of an igloo.

Shifting into reverse, she backed toward the end of the drive. An ominous thumping noise sounded as her rear wheels sank into the large drift of snow blocking the road. She cautiously stepped on the gas pedal and gritted her teeth as the wheels spun. Was fate that dead set against her getting her caffeine fix this morning? Just as frustrated defeat settled in her belly, the tires finally found traction. Giving her giddy whoop of victory full rein, she plowed through the last of the barricade and fishtailed onto the main roadway.

She stared at the mountain of snow she’d cleared. It’d be a miracle if she tackled that monster again without getting permanently stuck until next spring’s thaw. The better option would be getting the drive plowed while she was in town. Yet another excellent excuse for her to drop by Dante’s house—which she absolutely wouldn’t do. She was a far cry from being the type of female who relied on a man to handle things she was perfectly capable of taking care of on her own—like tracking down Dante’s cousin Shane and paying him to take care of the snow. Letting Dante have his delicious way with her yesterday certainly hadn’t changed her self-reliance, and she’d make damn sure it never would.

Humming the opening bars of “I am Woman”, she stepped on the gas and headed toward town.

Dante grabbed his jacket and whistled for Chevy. The dog came galloping from the kitchen, a blur of white fur and scrabbling paws. Well acquainted with Chevy’s propensity for colliding with any solid object standing in his way, Dante yanked open the front door and stepped back as the Great Dane went streaking past. While Chevy hightailed it down the porch steps and dove into the fresh blanket of snow that’d fallen overnight so he could blissfully make dog angels, Dante shrugged into his jacket and locked up the house. He hummed to himself, feeling the best he had in months.

A good portion of the cause for that was knowing he’d found a way to beat Foster at his own game. The manipulative son of a bitch wouldn’t like having the rug pulled out from under his ambitious scheme. And that filled Dante with immeasurable triumph. But if he were to be completely honest, his good mood had an awful lot to do with the three incredible hours he’d spent in Lilly’s bed yesterday afternoon—and the prospect of whiling away another couple hours in it later this morning, after his errands were done.

To say his hunger for her hadn’t cooled would be a massive understatement. Just thinking about Lilly and how desperately he wanted to stay buried inside her all day made his cock throb and thicken.

Jesus. He’d never been this affected by a female before. The fact that it was Lilly—one of the biggest sources of his headaches all these years—only made it more surreal. And insane.

Palming his keys, he strode to his pickup and swung the door open. The rusty whine of the hinges provoked his grin as he recalled Lilly’s crack about the WD-40. Is this what getting laid reduced him to? A sappy fool who actually appreciated the little hellcat’s sarcastic barbs? He wouldn’t have believed it possible.

Leaning across the steering wheel, he keyed the ignition. The sluggish roar of the engine alerted Chevy that it was time to haul his snow-covered ass into the cab. With an effortless leap, the dog landed on the front seat and shook himself off with a full-body wiggle before jumping in the back. Grimacing, Dante swiped the snow from his seat. Satisfied he’d adequately prevented a case of soggy rear, he climbed in and slammed the door. The interior of the vehicle still carried the alluring essence of Lilly. Closing his eyes, he dragged her scent deep into his lungs. A moment later the stench of wet dog and one of Chevy’s crowd-clearing gas bombs intruded on the idyllic moment.

Cursing and hacking, Dante buzzed the window down. “You just had to wait to do that in here, didn’t ya?”

Chevy’s only response was an innocent expression as he peered around the backseat as if he was trying to figure out where the noxious smell was coming from. Shaking his head, Dante buckled his seat belt. The overwhelming urge to check in on Lilly and see how her ankle was faring got the better of him, and he turned the nose of the truck in the direction of her cabin. Five minutes later, he braked next to the large snowdrift blocking her drive. Disappointment and a heavy dose of sexual frustration washed over him as he eyed the empty spot where her SUV should have been parked.

Damn it, the stubborn cat couldn’t have waited until he called Shane and had him stop by with the plow? Not only that, she seemed bound and determined to aggravate her injury. He had half a mind to track her down and drag her back to his place so he could make good on his threat to tie her to his bed. Then maybe she’d finally stay off her bad leg. Not to mention it’d give him great pleasure to give her plenty reason to want to stay put.

Setting his jaw, he fished his cell phone from his pocket and dialed Shane’s number. His cousin’s voicemail popped on, and Dante left him a message to swing by Lilly’s place and plow her drive. No doubt that would shock the hell out of Shane and give him plenty to speculate on. A portion of his surliness evaporating, Dante grinned and headed to the pet goods supply outside of town.