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Meghan Mallory has a plan for her life and it does not involve falling in love. She doesn’t have the time nor the inclination. She’s too busy trying to save the world. But when a freak snowstorm puts her in the path of a man she has secretly been fascinated with for years, she is forced to reconsider her stance on dating. Spencer is rude and obnoxious with his bad boy swagger but then he rescues her when she gets stranded on the side of the road, like a knight in tarnished armor, and sweeps her away to his house to ride out the blizzard.
Spencer Collins likes his life just fine, thank you very much. As the owner of the lifestyle club Cuffs & Spurs in Jackson Hole, he has a bevy of available subs who are his to command – not that any of them have held his interest in longer than he can remember. When his best friend’s sister-in-law gets herself into trouble, Spencer heads out to rescue the little brat who is in need of a firm hand. But he never expects to be forced to confront the incendiary heat that has always existed between them.
As the storm rages around them, they surrender to a passion hotter than the sun. Now that he has felt her surrender, Spencer attempts to lure Meghan into his world. But will they let go of their pasts or will they allow secrets to destroy them?
She lowered her forehead to the steering wheel, trying not to panic.
If she couldn’t leave her car because of the storm and no one happened by, she would be forced to wait out the weather in her car and hope like hell she didn’t freeze to death. But that was better than attempting to walk in the cold and getting stuck out in the open.
Meghan spent the next two frigid hours watching her gas gauge dip toward empty. The snow had not let up, in fact it had intensified. But the idea of staying put and possibly freezing to death once her gas ran out had little appeal. There had to be someplace nearby where she could weather the storm and ride it out. A cabin where she could build a fire… something, anything was better than this. With her courage failing, she gathered up her backpack. She had water, protein bars, and trail mix, along with some other essentials including the solar blanket she had wrapped around herself for extra warmth. She folded the blanket up and shoved it inside the pack. She could do this; trudge a mile or two in a treacherous blizzard until she found a place where she could ride out the storm. Meghan reached for the keys in the ignition to shut the car off.
Thud, thud, thud, pounded against her window. She jerked and screeched at the dark figure beyond. Staring, her heart hammering in her chest, she tried to discern whether they were friend or foe—for all she knew, he was an axe murderer. Then again, even they wouldn’t be so stupid as to be out in this crud. It was definitely a he, given the size and shape of his face, not to mention the dark swath of facial hair.
The man yanked the door open. Icy wind blasted into the small confines, competing with the heat pumping out her vents.
“What the hell are you doing, little brat?” His gruff, deep masculine bass voice shattered the stillness.
That voice. The sinful, rich, deep voice slid over her skin like a whispered caress, made her think of melted decadent dark chocolate sliding over her tongue, and caused all her girly bits to stand at attention. Him? Out of all the people who lived and worked in Jackson Hole, all the tourists who flooded the streets with their rental cars, he was her rescuer?
Spencer Collins.
The man who had been a thorn in her side ever since she and her sister had moved to Jackson Hole.
“Nothing intentional, big guy, I can assure you. Storm came up a lot faster than I expected.”
She didn’t mention she tended to get distracted like an absent-minded professor when she was taking samples and measurements and collecting data to study later. Nor that she had lost track of time and had been jolted back to awareness when the first snowflakes began to fall. Total rookie mistake on her part, and she knew it. If she had left an hour prior, she would already be sequestered at Jenna’s, warm and fed. But as it was, she had made the hike too late, with the storm kicking into gear around her.
“There’s this thing called a cell phone.”
If she wasn’t frozen clear down to her bones and didn’t need him to rescue her from the prospect of freezing to death, she would have decked the man. Spencer was acting like she was an imbecile, incapable of figuring out how to survive. She would show him. She yanked her phone from her pocket, breathing a sigh of relief that the screen hadn’t magically changed to make her look like a freaking idiot. The no service message was still displayed clearly on the screen and she waved it in front of his face. “Ha, funny man. I’m not getting any service, so if you have another idea, I’m all for it.”
“Come on. Let’s get you out of here.” He held out a hand for her to take.
“Appreciate it.” Meghan ignored the hand, shut her car off and killed the lights. She grabbed her purse and her backpack as she climbed out, bringing her body into close contact with his towering form. Rarely did Meghan ever feel short or intimidated, tending to carry the disposition of a chihuahua who thought himself an attack dog. Except with Spencer. He made her feel every lacking inch of her five-foot stature.
Born in St. Louis, Missouri, Anya grew up listening to Cardinals baseball and reading anything she could get her hands on. She remembers her mother saying if only she would read the right type of books instead binging her way through the romance aisles at the bookstore, she’d have been a doctor. While Anya never did get that doctorate, she graduated cum laude from the University of Missouri-St. Louis with an M.A. in History.
Anya is a bestselling and award-winning author published in multiple fiction genres. She also writes urban fantasy and paranormal romance under the name Maggie Mae Gallagher. A total geek at her core, when she is not writing, she adores attending the latest comic con or spending time with her family. She currently lives in the Midwest with her two furry felines.
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