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Excerpt...
When a girl breaks into a guy's cabin and gets caught snooping
around,
anything can happen…
Scarlett
screamed, the sound so loud and piercing her ears popped. Logan and the
big ugly rifle became a massive blur. Fear pulsed through her; she shut
her eyes tightly to keep from seeing the explosion, or her blood
spurting everywhere.
She let out a
second near window-shattering scream, and a wet hand clamped over her
mouth.
The explosion
never came. Pain didn't ricochet through her body. She didn't drop to
the floor in a pool of blood. But she did feel the pressure of fingers
on her face, and heard hard breathing that wasn't her own.
Opening her
eyes slowly, she saw Logan standing over her, tall, muscular, and
menacing--sort of. Dark hair dripped over his narrowed, angry eyes, down
the bridge of his nose and over his chin. Rivulets of water coursed over
his body, and she followed one meandering stream through the hair on his
chest, over his belly button, over …
Merciful
heavens! He was stark naked.
A few pages later, Logan (our hero) has clapped Scarlett (our
heroine) in handcuffs.
Okay, he's
handcuffed her to the bed… and left her alone. And then…
Scarlett
yanked at her handcuff, twisted it and turned it and tried to free
herself from the ridiculous entrapment. She glared at the clock beside
the bed. Nearly half an hour had gone by since Logan had locked her up.
Twenty-nine minutes ago she'd wanted him to come back, wanted him to
press that big and powerful body of his against hers. But that was
twenty-nine minutes ago.
Now she was
mad. How dare he handcuff her to the bed and then walk away!
The bedroom
door banged against the wall, and Scarlett jerked around. Logan stood in
the doorway wearing nothing more than black jeans and a smug smile.
The moment
had come. He'd returned. Now the only question that remained was whether
or not he planned to share the bed. If he tried, she'd knee him good and
hard.
Snagglepuss
approached her first, a taunt devised by two ruthless males, more than
likely. He pranced into the room, leapt onto the bed, narrowed his eyes
at Scarlett, and hissed. She and that cat were destined to have a major
run-in one of these days. The scrawny thing plopped down beside her, and
with claws fully extended, pressed his rear paws against her leg.
Obviously he wanted more of the bed; Scarlett refused to budge.
Logan came in
next, his bare feet silent on the hardwood floor. He stepped over the
tennis shoes and socks she'd kicked off and sauntered toward her, two
bottles of Moose Jaw clutched in his fists. He looked like a sexy guy in
a TV ad, the kind of unshaven, bare-chested stud women poked their heads
out of office windows to gawk at.
Well, she
refused to gawk. Instead of staring at Logan's incredible chest, she
stared at the cat; Snagglepuss stared right back. She reached out her
uncuffed hand to pet the feline; Snagglepuss hissed.
"Nice cat
you've got," she said cynically, still staring at the motley beast.
"He's not
mine. He's just spending time here until he wants to move on."
Her eyes
narrowed; she looked up slowly. "It's nice to know you give your animals
the right to road free. Too bad you're not as generous with human
beings--like me."
"Snagglepuss
licks my toes; he curls up in my lap--"
"I don't lick
toes."
Logan's smug
grin turned wicked as his gaze shot toward her crimson-polished
toenails. "Ever had yours licked?"
"Don't be
ridiculous."
"I take it
that's a no?"
"What I've
had licked or haven't had licked is none of your business."
Logan
shrugged. "For now."
Those words
sounded ominous, making her muscles tighten as Logan walked toward the
bed, holding out a bottle of beer. "Thirsty?"
"Are you
hoping I'll say yes so you can ply me with beer, get me drunk, then have
your way with me, licking anything and everything your heart desires?"
"You think
there's some hidden meaning behind everything I say and do?"
"Isn't
there?"
"No, damn
it!" Logan smacked the bottle down on the nightstand. "I thought you
might be thirsty--that's it."
Logan stormed
toward the living room, bare feet thudding heavily on the floor. Halfway
through the doorway he stopped. Scarlett heard his deep intake of
breath, the way it gushed back out as his broad shoulders rose and fell.
Slowly he turned around. She searched his eyes for anger, but saw only
frustration.
"If I'm not
mistaken," he said, "you and I were getting along pretty good this
afternoon. Remember? I was holding you. We shared a few kisses that you
seemed to enjoy. We talked about Friday night--hell, I even thought we
might have a good time. Then you show up here, sneak around like you're
trying to solve some big mystery, and treat me like I'm an ax murderer.
Mind telling me why?"
She couldn't
possibly tell him that her friends that he was a murderer and that she
was trying to find out the truth. But maybe she could tell him a partial
truth, just to get him off her back. "I don't have the most trusting
nature in the world--"
"So I
noticed." He folded his arms across his chest and stared at her, waiting
for more of an answer.
"I thought if
I came out here tonight I might get to know a little more about you
before our big date."
"How?" By
peeping through my windows, trying to figure out what kind of music I
like, what I eat, if I scratch myself when no one's watching?"
"I didn't see
you scratch, and if I had I would have hightailed it out of here before
the bears charged."
"So you were
spying on me?"
"Okay, so I
was, but don't go thinking it's something I do on a routine basis. Trust
me, spying can be damn boring."
"But you
spied on me in spite of the boredom."
"I didn't say
you were boring." Jeez, she was making a mess of this, but what woman
wouldn't if she were chained to a bed with a sexy, nearly nude man
looming over her?
Want to know what Scarlett does next? How about Logan?
Think he'll keep her chained to his bed?
Find out what happens next when you read
STUCK ON YOU
in bookstores now!
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