Graham stood with his arms braced against the window frame. "What on earth...?" The wobbling woman outside on his front walk was dressed from head to toe in pink and white fluff, carrying a pink box with a dark brown bow, and wearing the most absurd shoes. "Damn fool." But, a cute one.

Snow had fallen the previous night, and the drive up into the mountains would have been more than a little tricky. She looked like a ski bunny, albeit a rather curvy one. He didn't do ski bunnies. Much as he liked outdoorsy, adventurous women, something about the winter resort crowd didn’t appeal to him. He preferred privacy as often as he could get it, complete with solitary mountain escapes and roaring fires.

She stomped onto the porch and lowered the hood of her jacket. Rich, dark brown hair flowed below her shoulders, and she had cheeks rosy from the cold. She muttered something between barely moving lips, then pasted on a dazzling, fake smile, shook her head, and knocked on the door.

Graham counted to ten, then opened it, swinging it wide, and grinned down at her. "Good golly," he said under his breath. His gazed traveled leisurely from the top of her tousled head to her small, painted toes wiggling inside pale stockings. She was a delectable, pink confection, crazy-ass footwear and all. From her mumbling on the porch and her scrunched-up face to the moment she shook it off and produced another of those beautiful smiles, his cock stirred in his jeans and he had a decidedly funny feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Sorry, I'm not Miss Molly. I have a delivery for…" She fumbled in her coat pocket then pulled out a card, stealing small glances up at him as her cheeks reddened further. He would bet his next paycheck it wasn't from the cold this time. "For a Mr. Graham Hall. Are you him?"

He gave it an exaggerated thought. "If I wasn't, I would certainly lie and say I was." She frowned. He grinned. "What are you delivering?"

"Huh? Oh. Ummm, the truffles you ordered."

She couldn't stop staring at him. Did she like what she saw? He hoped so cause he sure as hell liked looking at her. "I didn't order any truffles."

"You didn't?"

"Nope. I don't even eat candy."

Her frown deepened, and her brows furrowed. It was all he could do to keep from pulling her against him so he could taste those pouty lips. She was utterly adorable. "I'm terribly sorry for the mistake, Mr. Hall."

"Not at all. Would you like to come in and warm up for a bit? I can make some coffee or hot chocolate. We can see about clearing up this little mishap."

"I…uh, no, thank you. I should get back to town. I'll clear it up from there. Again, I'm very sorry for bothering you."

She wasn't looking at him any longer. "You didn't. Bother me, that is, and I really must insist that you come in and get warm. Your feet have got to be cold in those…those shoes." He grimaced as he said the word and took her by the arm, ushering her inside before she could say no again. It was damn cold out there, and he was glad to have the door closed.

She eased her arm out of his grip then backed herself against the door. "Really, this isn't necessary. My car has a very good heater and…wait, what's wrong with my shoes?" she asked, looking down and wiggling her toes, lifting her feet off the ground one by one as if trying to see what he found so distasteful.

"They're nothing but two pieces of leather, a couple of strings, and a spike." And would be much better suited to digging into my ass while you were on your back than they are for traipsing around in the snow. He cleared his throat and glared down at her feet rather than looking at her face, her lush mouth, her expressive eyes. "They are the most ridiculous things to be wearing in weather like this. How in the hell do you even walk in those on a good day, much less when there's ice covering the streets and sidewalks?"

"I…well, it wasn't snowing in the city, and I didn't know I would have to trudge through the snow, and I park inside a garage, so I didn't have to walk on any icy streets or sidewalks. At least I didn't until I got here." Her mouth tightened and her eyes narrowed. "You should really shovel your walkway. It's dangerous not knowing where one is walking." She was not happy with him or his comments, and he was falling all over it, seeing her spark. Her smile twisted him all up inside, and her irritation with him did too.

"Common sense should have told you that you wouldn't be taking a leisurely stroll once you got up here. We're in the mountains in winter. You need snow shoes, not those," he offered with a dismissive wave of his hand in the direction of her feet.

He was rewarded with a huff. She crossed her arms over her chest, boosting what little of her cleavage he could see from the small opening at the top of the zipper in her jacket. Yum.

"You know what? You said I hadn't bothered you, but you're not being very nice and over a pair of... Just because you don't like them --"

"I don't like them because you're an accident waiting to happen. You wouldn't have slipped on the ice if you'd had proper shoes on."

Embarrassment flooded her neck with color. For a second, he felt bad, but it didn't last long. She could have been seriously hurt had she fallen when she slipped.

She set the box of chocolates on the table beside the door and depressed the latch behind her. "Have a nice afternoon, Mr. Hall. Keep the truffles. Give them to your neighbor, your girlfriend, or throw them out."

She opened the door. He closed it. "Stop. Please. I'm sorry for insulting your choice of footwear." She looked at him over her shoulder, one brow lifted in a quizzical expression. "Come over to the fire. Take your…whatever they are off and warm yourself up before you go back out there."

When he made to put his arm around her waist, she shrugged him off and moved out of reach, walking over to the couch. She wasn't lithe and skinny, his candy delivery girl. The ski bunny outfit couldn't hide the natural curves of her hips and ass.

She was all woman under that bundle of fabric.

She unlaced her shoes, and he heard her sigh with pleasure when she got them off. She stuck her feet out in front of her toward the fire and wiggled her toes. There was nothing flirty or coquettish in her movements. She wasn't trying to come on to him; she wasn't trying to entice him.

What a fun challenge she would be.

"I offered coffee or hot chocolate to you before. Would you like me to make some?"

"No, thanks. I'm fine."

He joined her on the couch after picking up the box of chocolates and settled into the corner behind her. "Want one?" he asked, holding out the unopened box to her.

She shifted on the couch. "No."

Graham shrugged to himself and untied the ribbon. He lifted the lid and smiled, though he made sure he hid it before he spoke. "Uh, honey? The --"

"My name is Jane."

He grinned behind her. "All right. Well, Jane, there are no truffles in the box, there's only r--"

"What!" She turned around and snatched the box from him, looking inside it herself, finding only small pebbles glued to the bottom of the decorative paper cups. "I am so going to kill him. I am going to wrap his tie around his gay little neck and strangle his gay ass," she muttered.

She put her shoes back on and began to lace them up. He put a hand over hers to still her movements, but she shook him off again. He did his best to ignore the fire that licked through him when he touched her but couldn't. Setup or no setup, the woman lit him up from the inside out.

"I'm, ummm…I'm so sorry the box was empty, and I'm so sorry that he played this silly little game and that I intruded on your afternoon." She stood then walked around the back of the sofa to the door.

Graham stood as well and hopped over the back of the couch. He landed in front of her, startling her to a stop. "You didn't intrude on my afternoon. I've told you that."

"Still, this was an awful thing for him to do. I need to go." She made to step around him, but he blocked the way.

It usually took a hell of a lot for him to take a serious interest in a woman, but with Jane, it was instantaneous. Edward's description, while loving, hadn't done her justice and though this was meant to be nothing more than a fun little outing for her to see that the whatshisname loser who'd dumped her wasn't the last man on earth, Graham was suddenly interested in so much more.

She was unlike any woman he'd ever been drawn to. She was real and grounded. Her rounded body was unlike the tall lithe women that he'd found his eyes following if he saw them on the street but that never went anywhere because he couldn't find anything that interested him beyond their looks. No, he found this one to be just about perfect.
He schooled his features. "Him who?"

She sighed and cocked her hip, irritation lighting her eyes. "Edward." She pulled her cell from her purse and made a big production of typing out some sort of message.

"Who is Edward?"

"He's my business partner," she said absently, still typing on the tiny keyboard. He's the one who sent me out here. The one who…" Her head snapped up. "Did you know about this?"

"Know about what?"

"Don't play dumb. Son of a... He set me up. With you. He planned this whole thing. 'Oh, Jane. Can you run this delivery for me? I'm terribly late for a meeting.' He's never late for meetings. He never does anything last minute. He never misses an opportunity to meet clients. He's the front man. I'm the candy maker. And you were in on it. Oh my God."

"Now, wait a minute, Jane. I..." What the hell was he supposed to say? He stepped back, little by little to avoid the finger she pointed at him in accusation. For every step backward, she took one forward finally coming into contact with his chest.

"Yes. He can't leave well enough alone. It wouldn't surprise me at all if this was a setup and all a ruse to get me out of the loft and alone with a man. Edward's worse than a woman sometimes, always sticking his nose where it doesn't belong. At least a woman would know when another woman was ready to try again, but a man -- gay or not -- doesn't have a clue."

Graham did his best to hide his amusement and Edward really didn't have a clue about her. She was right about that. The man swore up and down that she wouldn't suspect anything. Boy, wouldn't he like to be a fly on the wall when she confronted Edward.

She sure was something when annoyed. Unwittingly, an image of her aroused and naked in front of the fire formed in his head. Her lush body all rosy and pink from the heat, her thighs spread wide, and her legs draped over his shoulders as he lowered his face to the warmth of her sex. His hand closed around her wrist, and he pulled her against him.

"What do you think you're doing?" She tugged at his hold, but he only tightened his grip. She seemed momentarily stunned when he smoothed her hair away from her face.

"Please," she said softly. "I need to go."

He traced the softness of her lips before he bent his head and stole a kiss from her. It was light, just a small taste. When he raised his eyes to hers, she was staring at him. "Jane?"

She said nothing, just continued to look at him. After a moment, she blinked rapidly, her face scrunching up with what he perceived to be disdain, confusion, fear. He wasn't sure what she was trying to convey with that look but before he could say anything further, she shook her head and rushed out the front door.