Free Vision of Darkness by Tonya Burrows

window. She looked at Alex, standing in the rain with a duffle bag on his shoulder, covered from head to toe in mud, a good bruise darkening the side of his jaw, a half-grin on his face.
    Dammit if her heart didn’t melt a little more, soothing the rougher edges of her irritation.
    She opened the door and got out. “Thanks for being nice to him.”
    He shrugged. “Wasn’t exactly Wade’s fault. I was trespassing.” He spotted the sunflower, still stuffed between the seats in its plastic vase, and his smile widened.
    Embarrassed heat crawled up the back of her neck. She slammed the car door with a little more force than necessary and started toward the front porch. “We should get inside.”
    Alex hitched his chin at the brightly lit house. “Not worried about the electric bill, I see.”
    “It’s The Green Lady. Usually it’s just one or two lights, but she must be in a playful mood tonight. Probably the energy from the storm revving her up.”
    “The ghost turned on your lights?” He stopped walking to stare at the house, then sprinted across the yard to catch up to her. “You can’t be serious.”
    “Hmm. She’s a bit of a practical joker. It’s funny when you’re dead and don’t have to pay the bills.”
    When her foot hit the bottom step of the porch, Triton launched himself into her arms. She staggered back, landing against Alex’s solid chest. Sexual heat flared at the contact, warming away the chill that the rain had pounded into her bones.
    “Whoa.” He caught her hips and righted her after a charged moment of having her backside pressed against his front, the pause too long to have been anything but deliberate.
    Face flaming, she led the way inside the house and left him to shut the door behind them. She refused to let him see the blush and busied herself with turning out some of the lights. He made enough passes at her as it was already and certainly didn’t need any more encouragement judging by the bulge she’d felt press into her lower back.
    Besides, she wasn’t completely done being mad at him yet and arousal tended to put the lid on a good head of steam.
    The idiot, she reminded herself, had set up camp in the middle of an October storm. He’d frightened her half to death by creeping up on her. Bossed her around, manhandled her. Ugh, the jerk!
    Whew. Better. Irritation was so much easier to deal with than the fire-hot spark of attraction that made her insides quiver and had her wanting to do things with him that had to be illegal somewhere.
    She whirled around, using Triton like a barrier, and jabbed at Alex’s chest. “So just what were you doing camping on my land in the middle of a storm?”
    He stared down at her finger pressed to his solar plexus, his lip twitching as if holding back a smile. “I like camping.”
    “It’s freezing out.”
    “I’ve slept in worse conditions.” His tone picked up an edge, a hint of darkness, and the smile vanished.
    Interest dampened her anger. She dropped her hand. “You have?”
    “I’ve camped a lot of places.”
    Maybe so, but no camping trip put that much regret in his eyes. She burned with curiosity, but bit back the questions. Now was not the time. The rain had soaked them both to the bone and they needed warm, dry clothes. Perhaps a cup or two of coffee. Then she’d ask.
    Pru set Triton on the floor. The dog stayed pressed up against her legs as she headed for the stairs. “Since Wade destroyed your tent, you can stay here for the night. I’ll show you to one of the finished guest rooms. The bathroom’s at the end of the hall on the right and there’s fresh linens in the closet if you want to clean up.”
    “That sounds like a plan.” Alex followed her up the stairs, but paused on the landing to study the old photograph hanging there. He tapped the gilded frame with his knuckle. “Your alleged ghost?”
    “That’s her. Lovie True.”
    He leaned closer to the portrait, squinting at Lovie’s face. The young woman wore a