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"What compelled you to ignore the ‘No Trespassing Or My Vicious Dogs will Eat Your Liver For Brunch’ sign?” asked Dash.
In sentences three words and less his voice was riveting. Longer it was rich and smooth, with a hint of an accent Lori couldn’t pick.
“The sign lied,” Lori prevaricated, as if she didn’t have a million things she ought to be doing with her time other than standing in this doorway in the middle of nowhere falling into the slumberous dark eyes of a hulking stranger.
His wide mouth flickered up at one corner. She would have bet a mint the guy was well aware how a smile like that would play with any female within range.
“If you want liver-eaters for dogs,” she said, standing taller to negate the urge to fan herself, “they need discipline.”
One meaty shoulder lifted into a shrug. “Never been that keen on the stuff myself.”
He touched the side of his nose and she wondered how many times it had been broken. And how big the other guys must have been.
When Lori agrees to Dash’s terms, he thinks she's the one in for a challenge. But the more time he spends with this spitfire bombshell, the more tempted he is to play her—in more ways than one. But Dash left behind the rock and roll life for a reason. And seductive as Lori may be, if she drags him back into that world, this time he won't forgive himself...or her.
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