A mission to find his brother sends Scott Quaid to Gunther’s Bar, but a storm has emptied the place of everyone except a beautiful shifter hot enough to dry his damp leathers.
Excerpt contains graphic content~
He wanted her.
“You’re going to be a problem. Aren’t you?”
Her accent sounded British, but not upper crust and stuffy. No, the little woman spoke like she’d stepped right out the back alleys of London and had no problem with that whatsoever. Her eyes dared him to argue.
He didn’t intend to. “I’m searching for my brother.”
She gazed right and left. “Doesn’t seem to be here. Sorry.”
Scott rolled his eyes. “Obviously.”
“I’m Nancy Elwood.” She stepped out from behind the bar.
“Nancy.” He didn’t know why he felt the need to repeat her name. Maybe because, for some weird reason, it felt good on his tongue. Like her pussy would. He blinked at the thought. Wow. How long has it been since I’ve gone to bed with a woman? Weeks earlier. Not fabulous either. But not long enough to warrant such juvenile inner dialogue.
“I’m Scott Quaid.”
The bartender walked past him to an old-fashioned jukebox. She studied it for a moment, giving him a glance of her fine ass. After a second, she tuned it to a song he didn’t recognize. Something country-western, but with a club beat. He hadn’t known such music existed. I need to get out more.
She approached until she stood directly below him. With his six feet of height, she stared up from a long way down. After a quick raise of her eyebrow, she grinned.
“You’re tall. Are you big everywhere?”
“Are you small everywhere? I like to explore tiny places.” All right. That seemed pretty fucking random.
She licked her lips and threw her apron on the ground.
His mouth dried again. “I’m trying to find my brother. He’s missing. Hasn’t turned up for work in a week. The last night I spoke to him, he planned on going here.”
“Maybe he took a vacation. I hear it’s good for the soul.”