Pathetic.

Normally, she wouldn’t have cared. Her drive for achievement was something she now lived with and never questioned. Valedictorian in college, a coveted internship in Manhattan at graduation, and years of learning from the best in the business. Finally, she’d been ready to take the leap to create her own publishing business focused on women.

Everyone called her crazy. Laughed. Refused to take her seriously.

Now that same line of rotten men lined up to kiss her ass.

Score.

Riley held back a giggle and took the next turn slow. Her rear wheels slid, adjusted, and pushed on. Damn, this was gonna be a bitch of a snowstorm. The initial reports had called for a dusting, but already huge flakes hit her windshield in kamikaze form, and the faint sound of tinkling ice warned her of the road conditions.

Crap. She was still fifteen minutes late.

Knowing her car could handle it, she calmly pressed the accelerator to make up for some time, keeping her senses sharp to the surroundings around her. She was an excellent driver and had never gotten into an accident. She drove like she did everything else in her life: with a firm capability and a goal toward one thing.

Success.

Men said she had issues. Who didn’t? She’d plunged ahead, and except for the occasional sexual affair she carefully plotted out to meet her bodily needs, she never felt lonely. Until recently. Stupid female clock screwed everything up. She was going along quite happily when she’d caught sight of a pregnant woman stroking her belly.

She’d stopped in the middle of a crowded street. The hit of emotion drained her breath and an ache in her heart made her want to wail like a toddler. From that moment, everything changed. Riley looked at couples around her, baby strollers, flashing diamond rings, and she wanted. Wanted with her heart, soul, and gut, like she’d never wanted anything before.

She’d called Kate and decided to do something about it.

Work had been the element to drive her forward, but now she was ready to attack her personal life. Finally at the stage she always dreamed to be in her career, she realized lately she was lonely. An empty ache pulsed in her gut. She craved cooking in her gourmet kitchen for someone other than herself. Her three-hundred-count Egyptian cotton sheets were cold with no one to snuggle with. Wasn’t it time she finally focused on finding love? Wasn’t it finally her turn?

Her past dates had been bitterly disappointing. Always lacking in certain qualities, exhibiting characteristics she refused to bend on. Too lazy, or arrogant, or needy. Not father material. Not husband material. Lacking character or humor or intelligence.

She yearned for a companion to share her life with. Raise a family. Grow old together. Riley knew the exact type of man who’d complement her lifestyle. A man who was serious, hardworking, family oriented. Perhaps a bit conservative, with an ability to be calm and even tempered. She despised fighting or disagreements. She pictured living in harmony with a man who was also her friend.

He needed to fit.

Kinnections was the right choice for her. The detailed questionnaire she filled out confirmed the match would be based entirely on her checklist and requirements. Science, not the fickle dream of fate where lust was mistaken for love and sex for commitment.

She reached the foot of the mountain. The car fishtailed, then straightened. Riley clenched and unclenched her fingers around the wheel. Call and cancel? Was he running late, too, from the weather? She peered through the whipping windshield wipers and judged how much farther up the rink was. Probably not far. Her car was topnotch in bad weather, and maybe it was going to stop soon.

This date could be the one. Kinnections was successful, and boasted an extremely high percentage of marriages. Her husband could be waiting on top of that mountain and a bit of snow was not going to stop her from finally meeting him.

She inched her way up and came to a fork in the road. Where was the sign? Why was her iPhone suddenly silent? With a disgusted mutter, Riley grabbed her phone.

No signal.

Crap. Okay, the rink couldn’t be far. She mentally recited eeney meeney miney moe and took the right. The road emptied and twisted before her, flanked by thick woods. Huge, gnarled trees bent over and shook in the wind. Icicles dripped from branches and pelted ice drops at her windshield. Why did she suddenly feel like she’d dropped into Narnia? Riley downshifted, curving around another bend, and almost hit the brake at the sight before her.

Massive wrought-iron gates rivaling those in King Kong towered before her. Wicked spikes lined the top and blocked a row of ice-encrusted privacy bushes. She caught a glimpse of a towering, multitiered brick fortress as she reached the top of the road, and gently pumped the brake.

The tires caught, spun, and slid to the right. She pulled the wheel in the opposite direction but it was too late.

The rear end fishtailed and dropped her backward over the side incline.

The last thought Riley had was how pissed off she was that she’d miss meeting her future husband.

Then everything went black.

chapter 3

Dylan McCray stared at the unconscious woman on his couch and wondered if someone was playing a joke on him. After all, he’d just been hand delivered the woman he hadn’t been able to get off his mind or his dick for the past decade.

He swore softly and lay a damp washcloth over her forehead. He had no idea if it was the right thing to do, but he’d seen the move in enough films to figure it worked. Thank God she’d been lucky. Other than the bruise on her cheek, she didn’t have any bumps or breaks. The car was banged up, but her seat belt and the open ditch filled with snow had softened the blow. He shuddered to think of the circumstances if she’d hit the trees.

Her breathing was deep and even. Her heart rate steady. What the hell was she doing here? He’d decided to close the park once the snow began, so he hadn’t expected anyone. He assumed his blind date was canceled. The cell lines were down so he couldn’t call Kate, and in some weird type of power move Kate refused to give him a last name, so it wasn’t like he could even try and track down the mysterious woman.

He was getting ready to close up the gates when he caught the crash on his security camera. Thank God he’d seen it or Riley could’ve been trapped overnight. He hoped she didn’t have a concussion. He figured worst-case scenario he’d get the snowplow and drive her to the hospital. First, he’d try to wake her up and work from there.

What was the woman doing out in a blizzard? Anger twisted with fear and burned through his system, though he kept his touch gentle. For God’s sake, no one was out in this weather. The radio blasted the quick movement of the storm heading their way, and warned everyone to stay home. Of course, if Riley Fox was the same stubborn, frustrating woman she’d always been, no wonder she hadn’t listened. She had a God complex. It both fascinated and irritated him.

Besides getting him hot.

His gaze took in her softened features. She hadn’t changed. Dark hair with burgundy highlights was swept back from her high forehead and fell in long silky waves to her shoulders. She used to wear it scooped up in a no-nonsense ponytail that bobbed when she walked. Her face was well-defined, which made for an arresting vision that held a man’s attention and entranced him to look deeper. He remembered eyes the color of a soft violet, snapping with command and control. Her lips were thin but perfectly formed to a bow shape. Her jaw was too square, her cheekbones too blunt, her nose too sharp, her brows too arched. But all the features put together made her impossible to ignore.

Just as she liked it.

They’d shared a dormitory at Cornell for four years. He still pictured the way she marched down the hallways, backpack swinging, gaze directed ahead with a tunnel vision no beginning college students exhibited. She avoided sororities, beer pong parties, sporting events, and generally any social activity where there was alcohol, sex, and distraction. She graduated with a double major in business management and marketing, a minor in English, worked for the Junior Executive League, school newspaper, and published three articles in featured mass-market magazines.

She was a force of nature, but Dylan suspected underneath she was one big hot mess. Total control freak meets uptight workaholic. They’d almost killed each other when Professor Tagg paired them for the final project in sophomore year. Fifty percent of their grade and he almost quit. Almost.

He was too stubborn to let her win.

Even more so because of the heat between them.

Dylan shook his head at the memory. Unbelievable. One moment he wanted to strangle her, the next back her up against the wall, release the ponytail, and strip off that white prim blouse she always favored. It was almost as if the fighting was a crazy form of foreplay, but she’d die rather than admit it.

So would he.

Still, he’d fantasized that he could push her proper boundaries to make her scream. Beg. Come. For him.

His dick hardened but he shook it off and began pacing. Why the hell did it have to be Riley Fox to turn him into a horn dog? He had tons of money, a good disposition, looks, and a sense of humor. He’d dated so many women it must be in the triple digits, bedded many along the way, and not once had he found the lightning strike.

Maybe he never would.

But already, the air hummed like a live presence, and his blood warmed in his veins. Her scent swam in his nostrils and in his memory. Oranges and jasmine. Some intoxicating mingle of images involving juicy, ripe fruit trickling down his chin, soft floral blossoms, and pure sweetness.

The ridiculous poetry of his thoughts made him groan. Stupid. Her presence just brought back memories and surprised him. The moment she opened her mouth he’d be reminded of their inability to get through a two-minute conversation without wanting to kill each other.

She stirred in her sleep. Dylan walked back over and stared down at her. Was she sleeping too long? Should he wake her? He cursed under his breath and decided to shake her gently. Maybe help her along. He reached over.

Her eyes flew open.

Dylan jerked back from the sudden awakening like a vampire in a coffin. He watched her gorgeous eyes flicker, obviously trying to remember where she was and what had happened. He opened his mouth to calm her. Explain what happened in a soothing voice so she didn’t freak out on him.

He never got a chance.

She shot up to a sitting position, hair sliding over one eye, a scowl marring her brows. Her mouth twisted as if she’d either tasted or smelled something bad.

“You.”

Her voice slammed him with disdain and ice.

And just like that, Dylan was back in college with a woman who’d pushed every single button he owned and a few he never knew he had.

He treated her to a slow, insolent smile.

“Hey, darlin’. Long time, no see.”

The fury on her face from the familiar greeting made him feel a hell of a lot better.

Yeah. Maybe this would be more fun than he expected.

* * *

When Riley woke, she was struck by blinding white.

At first, she thought she’d died. Heaven was really pretty in a clean Rachel Zoe way. The vaulted ceiling, walls, and lush shag carpet were pure white. An elaborate four-tier chandelier dripped crystals and pearls, adding to the effect of elegance. A huge fireplace framed in marble took up the far end of the room. The sound of snapping logs drifted in the air. She rolled to her side and noticed she lay on a long white sofa, with matching wing chairs of the same color. At least heaven was color coordinated. She’d be so disappointed to be stuck in tie-dye.

Her gaze rose and collided with a pair of stunning eyes. One pure blue. The other a rich brown. A memory deep inside unfurled, and heat bloomed in her belly, spreading through her veins. Impossible. She knew this man.

Dylan McCray.

She struggled for composure, and bolted upright. Dear God, it was him. How was it possible to look better after a whole decade? His hair was still a delicious mix of wheat-colored strands with streaks of white peppered throughout. With that thick and unruly hair, he gave off a surfer vibe. The deceiving halo was a wicked contradiction to his hypnotic gaze that could command a woman to drop her panties in 2.2 seconds. His face was a dance of graceful lines that set off his lips, which had a delicious natural sulky curve. He sported dimples that emphasized his mischievous charm rather than caused him to look boyish. He reminded her of an angel, with a lean, muscled physique. He was Michael and Gabriel reincarnated to seduce women and master men on Earth.