Free Passions in the North Country (Siren Publishing Classic) by Summer Newman Page B

knew Devon was in rut and she was in season. Those feelings went way back, back to the beginning of time, and their allure had never subsided. On the contrary, passion raged like a bonfire unleashed in her core, and only this man, this beautiful animal, could extinguish it. She walked past him, her head down and an intense look on her face.
    “Oh, Mr. North,” she said, turning to him at just the right angle for him to see most of her breast, unrestrained under the thin cotton material of her pretty blouse. “Thank you for getting Maria’s room ready for me, sir. I’m looking forward to my time there.”
    “We’ll see how it works out,” he cautioned, his voice cracking.
    She walked up close to him, as if needing to share a private matter. “Please wash your clothes before you come here tomorrow.”
    Devon looked positively offended. “Excuse me?”
    “You heard me.”
    “Yes, I did. Are you telling me what to do?”
    “Yes,” Jenny said. “I am.” She stared into his eyes. “Wash your clothes.”
    He looked comically angry. “I don’t tell you what to wear.” Devon made a strange face, then sternly looked at her. “I’m doing hard physical labor. My clothes are going to get dirty.”
    “Dirty work makes dirty clothes—that’s acceptable,” Jenny said like a mother scolding her young son, “but smelly clothes are not acceptable.”
    Devon smirked.
    “Your clothes stink of sweat,” she said, quickly nodding her head. Though he did indeed smell of sweat, Jenny was not turned off by it. On the contrary, she had been around men for too long who were more concerned with how they looked than their wives and girlfriends. Men who went to salons, had their hair done, their suits perfectly pressed. She rather liked the elemental man, the blue-collar man, the man’s man. But she sure as hell wasn’t going to tell him that. “How you feel about your bad hygiene is your business, but not when it starts affecting others.”
    “Do people say I stink?” he asked, obviously distraught.
    “I say you stink.”
    His bottom lip drooped.
    “That’s all that matters. It’s a matter of courtesy, Mr. North. People have enough problems without having to put up with strong odors.” She pursed her lips. “I don’t stink, do I?”
    He didn’t answer.
    “When I walked by you, did I stink?”
    “No,” he snapped, recalling the most alluring scent he had ever smelled in his life.
    “Thank you.” She glared at him. “Now please return the favor. Wash your clothes! And take a long bath.”
    “All right,” he snapped, “you made your point. No need to beat a dead horse.”
    “And no need to smell like one, Mr. North.” She started to walk away, but turned back for a moment. “Tomorrow is another day and one lives in hope.”
    He scowled and shook his head. Jenny flipped her nose at him and walked into the hotel, meeting Miriam in the office. They went into the back room and Miriam poured them both a glass of cold lemonade, dropping a couple ice cubes in each drink.
    “Devon looks handsome this morning,” Miriam suddenly said, a glint in her eyes. “Don’t you think?”
    “He’s all right,” Jenny surrendered, “but not the type I find attractive. I prefer men who speak instead of grunt.”
    Miriam laughed. “If you got to know him, you would love him,” she unexpectedly said.
    Jenny was taken aback. “I would never love him,” she insisted, “and I highly doubt I would ever get to know him. He lives in a shell and he won’t let people in.”
    “He’s a nice man, Jenny.”
    “I believe he could be, but I’ve never seen it, that’s all. I’d need proof.”
    “Maybe you’ll marry him someday and raise a family.”
    “Maybe I’ll win the lottery and open a casino on the moon—that’s a more likely scenario than what you just described, Miriam. Really, I don’t find him attractive at all. He just doesn’t appeal to me.”
    “Why? Because of his personality or because you honestly do