Someone -- or something -- is causing magical blizzards at Fairleigh Hall. The estate is suffering, and the Earl has requested assistance. Constable Kit Thompson, of Bow Street’s Preternatural Division, isn’t especially thrilled to be sent out to the country. At least the assignment gets him away from fashionable London society and his own unwanted celebrity after successfully solving a notorious case. Of course, he’s now trapped at a country estate due to closed roads, snowstorms, and magic, but Kit’s always liked solving puzzles. He’s good at using empathic skills for investigations, and this is definitely a challenge. Besides, the Earl’s younger brother is an irritating and delicious temptation, all blue eyes and muscles and boundless enthusiastic optimism. Kit wants to either shake sense into him or kiss him senseless -- and can’t trust him, either, because if someone’s genuinely sabotaging the weather, everyone’s a suspect. Harry Arden, younger brother of the Earl of Fairleigh, has never met a Preternatural Division constable before, much less a famous and celebrated one. He wants to help. And he wants to make that attractive but cynical constable smile, at least once. But the estate hides a family secret, and Harry knows perfectly well Kit doesn’t trust him ... and for good reason. Still, Harry offers to do what he can to assist with the investigation, and if that means spending more time with Kit, that’s a bonus. When Harry and Kit end up caught by those magical storms, snowed in together at the old hunting lodge, they’ll have to trust each other with their secrets ... and their hearts.

Snowed In: Kit and Harry

Kit’s body, Kit’s senses, prickled with awareness, with potential next breaths, with the closeness of bared skin and the disarray of Harry’s cravat and collar.


And perhaps Harry Arden liked strength. Perhaps Harry Arden liked someone who could put him on his knees, an answer to all those sturdy muscles and that boundless energy and that viscount’s title. Perhaps Harry liked men who could make use of his generous eagerness. Who could command him.


Kit could do that. Kit would be firm with him. But kind, as well; Harry needed that, he thought. Someone who would understand and not criticize exuberance and lack of experience. Someone who would be gentle even while murmuring low-voiced inarguable directives.


That wave of desire hit like the weight of the snow: thick and weighty and all at once inescapable. The fact of the desire did not shock him; he knew himself and what he enjoyed.


Chapter 12