And here’s a snippet of our hero and heroine together…
“I’m the devil?” He was grinning at her now. She wasn’t sure why. She’d just told him to go to hell. “Why, Ms. Jameson, are you feeling tempted?”
“I’d rather kiss a goat.” Heat raced over her face. Why was she talking about kissing? You didn’t talk about kissing to guys unless you wanted them to kiss you. Which she didn’t. Goddamn tequila.
He laughed. Which was unfair. His laugh was sexy. No, scrap that. Nothing about Winters was sexy.
“A goat? Horns, a beard, cloven hooves? Kind of like the devil?”
She dropped her head onto the bar. She was in no mood to banter with the devil. She knew her folklore. Nothing good ever came of trying to best Beelzebub. Nope, that path only led to lost souls and eternal damnations. Which sounded about right where Winters was concerned.
Five short days to more of this!