Stolen Heat - By Elisabeth Naughton Page 0,35

was pretty much on the up and up now, but six years ago, when he’d met Kat? That was another matter entirely.

Since he didn’t want to think about anything remotely related to Kat, he ran a hand over his face, scratched his jaw and wished like hell for a razor.

Metal banging around in the adjacent garage echoed through the room. He eyed the clock on the wall in the small living area. 5:15 a.m. The sun would be up in a few hours. He couldn’t hear the wind whipping against the building anymore, and he hoped that meant the mother-f-ing storm had finally passed.

Pete looked at the ratty sofa. If he were smart he’d lie his ass down and get an hour of shut-eye before he had to go outside and dig himself out of this mess. He’d need all his energy so he could make tracks back to civilization as soon as it was light.

More banging drifted to his ears. Followed by a curse.

He bit back the eloquent French retort that jumped to his lips and glared toward the garage door. And knew he wasn’t getting any sleep now or anytime soon. He was about to make matters worse.

He stepped into the garage only to be greeted by a familiar view that socked him hard in the gut. The hood of the rusted Ford he’d planned to use as his escape vehicle was up, and Kat was leaning over the thing doing God-knows-what to the engine. What stopped him wasn’t the fact she was tinkering with his only means out of this hellhole, but that she’d changed into jeans, her heartshaped ass filling out the worn denim as if it were a second skin.

And staring at her there, light from an unshaded bulb highlighting each and every curve, he had a sudden memory flash: pressing his lips to the twin dimples on her lower back, running his hands over the smooth skin of her gorgeous backside, clutching her hips tight with his fingers as he sank inside her from behind and bent to kiss her neck.

Warmth he grudgingly recognized as arousal speared him in the stomach, drifted lower until he had to shift his feet around to relieve the pressure in his groin. And that was when he realized his body obviously wasn’t up to speed with his brain quite yet. The little man in his pants didn’t know sex with her was no longer an option.

He clenched his jaw and fought back the arousal that only pissed him off more, then unleashed all that pent-up anger on her. “Just what in the hell do you think you’re doing now?”

Kat’s head hit the top of the hood with a crack that echoed through the garage and sent stars firing off in her line of vision.

She bit her tongue to keep from swearing and jerked away from the engine block. Rubbing the back of her throbbing skull, she glanced behind her and saw Pete, freshly showered and smelling just as good as she remembered, looking more pissed off than a chained pit bull.

“I asked what you think you’re doing,” he barked.

Okay, his shower hadn’t done much to improve his mood. His tight shoulders were bunched for battle in that worn gray sweatshirt. Deep frustration lines marred his forehead beneath that black wool cap covering his hair. He had one heck of a shiner around his eye which, for reasons Kat couldn’t explain, made him look that much more dangerous and sexy as hell.

He clenched his jaw as he waited for her to answer, and her gaze dropped to his mouth.

Yeah, that sweet and tempting mouth that had kissed her silly before was now set in a grim line. He was downright ticked she was anywhere near the vehicle he planned to use as his escape.

Escape. Right. That was exactly what he planned to do. And from the looks of it, sooner rather than later.

“I was just checking to make sure it runs,” she said as she massaged her scalp.

He eyed her like he didn’t believe her, then moved to examine the engine himself. Careful to step around her so their bodies didn’t come close to making contact.

Definitely still pissed. Although at the moment she wasn’t sure why he thought he had the market cornered on that emotion.

She waited while he pulled the dipstick out and checked the oil level. She held the rag out for him as a peace offering, but he ignored it, instead wiping his grimy hands on

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