ilar estate. The air was thick with the smell of wet cement and

rieve the small wooden box from the backyard shed containing her adoptive mother's old farming j

bright red Ferrari sped up the driveway, slamming on its

. He wore a custom-tailored suit and designer sunglasses

esperately trying to claw their way to the top of the Manhattan social ladd

lass with calculating, gleeful eyes. She had specifically complained to D

e a chivalrous knight, and then turned his head to glare at Jess

could hear. "You can put a Rust Belt rat in a Manhattan penthouse, but you stil

ing, leaning on their shovel

trical worry. She gently grabbed Dax's forearm. "Dax, please don't," she said, looking at Jessie

dn't calm Dax; it fueled his masculine ego, making him feel

rom Jessie's nose. "You stay the hell away from Harley. If you e

eadable canvas. She looked at Dax the way one might loo

x. He felt his ego bruising in front of

r personal space. He raised his hand, aiming to shov

her weight. Her eyes, previously dull, s

heart seized in his chest. His lungs forgot how to pull in air. It was

violent tremor started in his k

said. Her voice wasn't loud, but it

ard, his face drai

ed champion, cowardly backing down from a country girl. She pinched t

ealizing he had just cowered in front of H

ear. He pulled his arm back and swung a heavy

ey's lips curved into a

apocalypse-honed reflexes, hi

hand shot up like a viper, her fingers wrappin

ntum against him. As she twisted his arm down, she dro

buckled instantly. His b

ith cold, detached eyes as his body laun

massive, shallow mixing tub filled