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

He wanted to cry, or to laugh, because this was real; he kissed Harry instead, heart in the touch of his lips.


When he moved, when he fit himself between Harry’s long legs—they parted easily, readily, and Harry’s body opened for him too, loose with oil and with the play of fingers—and pressed forward and in, they both caught breath, astonished.


Harry murmured his name. Kit pushed in further, one full glide, making that space take him to the hilt; he grabbed Harry’s hands, pinned them to the sofa, breathed, “Mine.”


“I’m still taking care of you.” He rocked hips: in and out, drinking in the grip and glide of Harry’s body, the incredible tightness and heat along his shaft. “Making you feel good…making you feel everything good, Harry, everything you deserve…do you like this? Me on top of you, inside you?”


Chapter 29