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he removed his jacket and slung it carelessly across her chair.
    Maybe she should thank McQuade by offering to bake a cake for him.
    Or you could offer something else. Like a few more kisses or even a night in her queen-sized bed. Doing whatever he wanted.
    He picked up one of the framed photographs from the fake mantel above the small electric heater that was her only heat source during the winter while she took off the plastic poncho and hung it by the door. Somehow she didn’t think the man who gave it to her would ever want it back. The picture was one Alice had posted on the internet while on vacation in Mexico. Her sister would never have thought to send it to Rose, so she’d downloaded it and made a copy for herself. Her sister would never have thought to invite her on vacation either. She frowned, worry for her sister settling in once again. No matter what Alice had done or hadn’t done in the past, she was still Rose’s sister.
    “She’s very beautiful.”
    And she was. Straight blonde hair, killer bod, and a smile that made most men open up their wallets and say how much do you need? Rose was shocked at the wave of jealousy and anger sweeping over her. She wanted him to say those words about her, Rose Spencer. Not her sister.
    “Ye s, she is. She looks just like our mother. Too bad those genes didn’t come together for me.”
    His forehead creased. “Who told you that?”
    “Oh, n o one in particular.” Her hands fluttered over her body as if say look at me. “Why should anyone have to state the obvious?”
    Darn it, why did she want to cry again?
    McQuade’s frown deepened into a full-fledged scowl.
    “I’m going to take a bath. ” Rose hastened from the room, shutting the bathroom door with a bang, glad she didn’t have to hear the next compliment he was sure to pay her sister. Leaning against the closed door, she took several deep, steadying breaths. Could the night have gotten any crazier? Her twelve hour shift had ended with a frantic call from her sister followed by a flat tire, a dead cell phone, and a motorcycle ride on rain soaked roads.
    And she couldn’t forget the narrow escape from a bunch of lion shifters and her rescue by one red hot wolf. He hadn’t told her he was a wolf shifter, but when his teeth had elongated in preparation to bite her, she’d had a sudden vision of a dark wolf running through the forest. She turned on the faucet and let the hot water fill the tub. A shower would be quicker, but she didn’t think the brush of hot water against her skin would actually warm her. She needed the heat around her. Sprinkling a handful of bath salts onto the surface of the steaming water, she quickly stripped, tugging the rubber band from her hair, and stepped into the tub. Sinking into the wonderful heat she closed her eyes, letting the steam seep into her pores.
    Bliss. Absolute, heavenly bliss.
    Almost as good as being held by McQuade.
    Rose wasn’t normally a woman who fantasized about sex—she was too grounded in reality to believe in white knights and heroes. But thinking about the handsome shifter and all the things she’d like to do to him—with him—had her hand heading south.
    Stop it, Rose, she scolded herself, gripping the edges of the tub. She was not the type of girl who got herself off with a strange man right outside her bathroom door. Nor was she the type of girl to invite said stranger inside the bathroom to help take care of her needs.
    Why, oh, why couldn’t she let herself be that type of girl?
    She wanted McQuade to look at her and see a woman. A flesh and blood, passionate–hot–desirable woman. And she was probably a little crazy to want such a thing from a man like him. She was Rose, the plain, fat girl no one ever looked at as a sexual conquest. He was a shifter. She knew every touch or look they had exchanged tonight was a calculated maneuver on his part. The bite, the kisses. All contrived to ensure they both walked out of the bar unharmed. Not