“That was okay by her. She’d always liked nights on the bayou and her night vision was excellent. The sleepy sounds of the bayou settling in drifted in through the windows. Dag had dropped the mosquito netting around her, although she could have told him the bugs didn’t bother her much. She wasn’t sweet enough, or so her brothers claimed. It could be true. The sound of low male voices on the deck floated into the room on the heels of the cicadas, the words partially muffled by the door. The ...rumble warned she’d missed her chance to escape. The only question now was whether she hid the evidence of the crime or brazened it out. Unfortunately, she’d never learned how to hang back or hide, so brazen it was. She lifted her chin. What if it wasn’t Dag? She embraced the familiar—and welcome—anger. He’d left her here, a sitting duck for whatever came at her. She’d focus on her mad not her fear. When the door eased open, her breath caught.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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