A Wicked Seduction Read Free Page B

that repair work they’ve got going on the freeway. The unexpected rain has put them behind, and they’re working double shifts to bring the project in on time.”
    â€œDean, I’ve got it handled,” Brett drawled good-naturedly. “Get the hell out of Dodge, already. By the way, are you taking any company with you?”
    â€œNope.” He snapped the lid to the cooler shut and set the insulated container next to his bag. “It’ll be just me and Mother Nature.”
    â€œMan, you have no sense of fun at all, do you?” Brett said, sounding disappointed at Dean’s lack of creativity in the opposite sex department. “Give me the address of the cabin and I’ll send someone to keep you occupied during the day, warm at night, and help celebrate your birthday. Trust me, you’ll come back to Seattle a new man.”
    He’d been so caught up in work and his last business trip to San Francisco that he’d forgotten all about his birthday. Not that he normally did much more than join his friends for a drink, or have dinner with his mother. And the sad thing was, three years ago he would have jumped at the opportunity to celebratehis birthday exactly as Brett was suggesting, but now his mind was consumed with business matters.
    He didn’t doubt the sincerity of Brett’s generous offer and was quick to set his friend straight. “Thanks, but I’d just as soon find my own woman.”
    After a few more minutes of ribbing from his friend to get a real life, Dean hung up the phone, shaking his head. He spent the next half hour loading his car with the cooler, camping gear, and fishing supplies he’d recently purchased through the Internet. After one final walk through the house to make sure everything was secured, he grabbed his duffle and keys from the table and headed out to the garage where his cherry-red, vintage ’65 Mustang convertible awaited him.
    Along with a woman holding a shotgun.
    Startled to find he had company, he came to an abrupt halt. On the heels of realizing he wasn’t alone came a twinge of apprehension as he warily eyed that lethal-looking weapon she cradled in one arm. Thankfully, it was pointed at the ground and not at him. She stood just where the rolling garage door opened, feet planted apart in a military type stance, and an air of boldness and presumptuousness radiating off her.
    Despite the gun, she didn’t look like a rough and tumble G.I. Jane. She wore her rich brown hair in a sleek ponytail, which served to emphasize a pretty face that seemed only to need the most basic of cosmetics to enhance her beguiling features. She was average in height, slender in stature, and undeniablyfeminine, but there was no mistaking she was physically fit.
    He shifted on his feet and returned his gaze to her face. Her lashes blinked lazily over eyes a velvet shade of blue, and a slow, confident smile lifted one corner of her mouth.
    Despite the circumstances, a warm frisson of awareness trickled through him. Damn if he didn’t find all that brazen confidence sexy. And exciting. The gleam in her eye was predatory with a definite challenge, and his body responded in an instinctive way that reminded him just how long it had been since he’d had a woman in his bed. More months than he cared to recall.
    Cautiously, he stepped closer to the passenger side of the car and tossed his bag in the back seat. “Can I help you?”
    She moved forward slowly, her stroll deceptively casual, that intimidating shotgun gripped loosely in her hand. Her hips, encased in button-fly jeans, swayed gently with each step. The blouse overlaying a white cotton tank top fluttered open, and he experienced a jolt of surprise to catch a glimpse of silver handcuffs clipped to the waistband of her jeans.
    She stopped near the trunk of the Mustang, keeping distance between them, and tipped her head inquiringly. “Are you Dean Colter?” she asked,