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The SUV gained traction and plowed on, pelting him with a shower of snow. By the time he managed to clear most of the cold, white powder from his face, the SUV’s taillights were distant red lights. Grimacing, he shot a look at the enormous dog rolling blissfully in the snow. “See, boy, this is why we stay clear of cats. They’re too damn prickly.” Even if they did smell like dessert.

Lilly didn’t slow down until she reached the cabin’s driveway. “I can’t believe that son of a bitch was peeping on me!”

Clearly Dante Morgan didn’t get the whole notion of privacy. Growling, she careened to a stop in front of her cabin’s small porch. After securing the parking brake, she jumped out and stomped to the front door. Fingers trembling from a combination of shock and fury, she fumbled the key into the lock. Kicking the majority of snow free of her suede boots, she trooped inside and flipped on the overhead light. She barely registered the cabin’s tidy appearance or the fresh citrus scent lingering from Melanie’s recent cleaning, and instead continued to fume.

How the hell was she going to face Dante now? Her plans of remaining cool and collected while she brokered for the millionth time for property that should rightfully belong to her had just gone up in smoke. “This is just freaking great.” She yanked her scarf off and tossed it on the leather club chair. Her white parka soon joined it.

She made it halfway across the main living area when the opening notes of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony sounded. Pivoting, she stalked back to the chair and fished her cell phone from the parka’s deep pocket. She scanned the Caller ID before jabbing the talk button. “No need to send search and rescue, Kinsey, I made it up here fine.”

“I had no intention of doing any such thing.”

Lilly snorted at her sister’s innocent tone. “Who are you trying to kid? You have the fire and sheriff’s department on speed dial.”

“Lots of people do. It’s called being prepared.” Kinsey didn’t need to be in the room to deliver a proper chastisement.

“Sure, but most people don’t have the numbers for every single fire station in the damn state programmed into their phone.”

“You’re grouchier than usual. Something happen?”

Lilly bit back a soft sigh. Nothing snuck past Kinsey. Sometimes it really sucked being related to a shrink. “I had a run-in with Dante Morgan.”

A lengthy silence preceded Kinsey’s reply. “I knew I should have been the one to make the trip up there. You have no patience when it comes to Dante.”

“Yeah, well, this time it went way beyond stretching my patience.” Lilly’s grip tightened around the cell phone until it threatened to snap the device in two. “He’s a perverted peeping Tom. I’d report him to the sheriff if he weren’t related to the bastard.” That was the problem. In this neck of the woods, everyone was related to a damn Morgan.

“What happened?”

Keeping the graphic details to a minimum, Lilly filled her sister in on the incident.

It took a suspiciously long time for Kinsey to speak up. When she did, her voice sounded strained, as if she were having a hard time keeping her mirth reined in. “That must have been…um…embarrassing.”

“Yah think?” Lilly scowled. “And so help me, if the tiniest chuckle comes out of you, I’m hanging up.”

“Sis, I think you should talk this out. Leaving moments like that to fester will…” A smothered giggle trickled through the speaker.

Glaring, Lilly punched the End button and tossed the phone on top of her parka. Despite the relative coolness of the room, heat shivered across her skin. Damn it. The edginess was back full force. Of all the times to forget to pack her supplements. Hoping to track down a stray bottle somewhere in the cabin, she hurried into the small kitchen. Another flash of seductive warmth struck while she was rifling through the cupboards. Squeezing her thighs together, she tried riding it out, but the overwhelming sensation refused to be ignored.

Panting and sweating, she raced into the master bedroom. She struggled with her zipper, but before she even got a decent grip on the metal tab, an image of Dante Morgan’s annoyingly gorgeous face unexpectedly loomed onto her mental big screen. A warning tremble coursed through her clit seconds before an orgasm of magnificent proportions slammed into her. She cried out, her knees wobbling. Pinpricks of dazzling light swam in her vision as the intense waves shimmered throughout her body. She slumped on the end of the bed before her legs completely gave out.

Gasping for breath, she rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. Hard to say which was more disturbing—experiencing the most mind-blowing climax of her life without actually touching herself, or having it happen with Dante Morgan invading her head.

Chapter Two

Hope Falls—the closest thing resembling a town in this Hicksville, USA wilderness—consisted of a post office, a grocery store and a bowling alley with a bar attached. The one and only time Lilly had ventured inside the bar, she’d witnessed a couple of local boys going at each other with bowling pins, proving once and for all that a fifth of Jim Beam, a full moon and redneck werewolves were a recipe for disaster.

She coasted into the grocery store’s parking lot and took the first cleared parking space she came across. Winding her scarf tight, she dashed toward the sliding doors. Inside the store, the PA system still piped Christmas music. Someone needed to tell the manager it was the freakin’ end of January.

She yanked a shopping cart from the corral—hopefully not the one that’d reveal a squeaky, uncooperative wheel somewhere around aisle four—and made a beeline for the pharmacy. The selection of vitamins and herbal supplements was woefully inadequate, but she managed to find two bottles of black cohosh. It worked for hot flashes—hopefully it’d help with her damn hormones. Of course, her metabolism would easily burn through both bottles by the end of the week. If things went well, she’d be long gone by then, with the deed to sixty prime acres in hand.

This mission meant everything. She’d be contributing to the advancement of the Lynchat Foundation by single-handedly acquiring the property necessary for building their private retreat. Plus, Kinsey would be forced to eat crow and admit sometimes baby sisters knew a thing or two about wheeling and dealing. That alone was worth all those tense, unpleasant encounters with Dante Morgan.

Well, maybe not all of them.

Her cheeks burning, she recalled the unmistakable bulge tenting the fly of Dante’s jeans as he lay sprawled in the snow earlier. Great, heat was the last thing she needed her body manufacturing more of. She clutched the shopping cart’s handle and wheeled around the corner of the aisle. Her cart bumped noses with another cart exiting the canned-goods section.

“They should consider putting traffic signals in this place.” Lilly’s smile froze in place when the opposing cart’s owner leaned into view.

Dante Morgan propped an arm against the end rack of canned tomato sauce, his biceps appearing impossibly huge within the confines of his blue-and-white flannel shirt. His full, masculine lips lifted in a faint grin, bringing attention to the dimple barely discernable beneath his dark, neatly trimmed goatee. “What’s the matter, Lilly? Cat suddenly got your tongue?”

Like she hadn’t heard that one from him a few dozen times before. Digging deep to steady her nerves, she gave him her most haughty expression. “Using the same lame joke more than once is pathetically unimaginative.”

“Oh, I’ve got a ripe imagination. I just don’t waste it on useless small talk.” Dante’s gaze dipped, lingering on the slight thrust of her breasts under the baggy parka, before drifting lower. “Then again, there’re some things I don’t exactly have to imagine.”