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Jessie has fallen in love with the perfect guy, Levi, but there’s one tiny problem. The blue-eyed hunk only exists in her dreams. That is, until he greets her in the local shopping mall. She’d swear they never met before, so how come he knows so much about her – and can tell her the naughty things they did in her dreams?
Warning: Contains a wolf shifter that won’t take no for an answer, and enough hot sex to drive any winter chills away.
I dreamed of home, and Christmas shopping. I sat on a wooden bench in my local shopping mall, the giant Trafford Centre, and gazed at the opulent decorations strung from the glass ceiling. Busy shoppers hurried past me—the usual crowds—but even though I’d shopped here a thousand times, it now felt alien.
I felt, rather than saw, someone take the space next to me. A glance to my side revealed a young man. He sprawled against the bench seat, one arm insolently thrown across the back, as though we were a couple.
I gave him a proper look. Messy, dark hair fell to his chin, and thick stubble raked his cheeks, as though he’d stumbled here straight from his bed. A black T-shirt hugged his chest, and worn, dark jeans clung to strong thighs. The denim looked soft and much-washed, and I dragged my gaze up from his crotch, to meet twinkling—startling—blue eyes. Where had I seen eyes like that before?
A lazy grin broke out on his face, and my cheeks heated. He couldn’t have missed the way I’d been staring at him. With his dark tan and perfect white teeth, he looked far too exotic to be sitting in a Manchester shopping mall.
The rational part of me questioned how he knew my name. The rest of me wanted to swoon at his voice. Deep, and husky, it reminded me of salted caramel chocolate—velvety, but with a dangerous edge. It also had a lilting accent that was familiar. He was a Kiwi.
“I’m sorry, do I know you?” My polite English upbringing stepped forward, even though I’d never seen him before. I couldn’t forget someone so delicious.
His gaze dropped briefly, as though he considered how to reply. A smile tugged at his lips. “Not really. I’m Levi.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to say, I don’t think we’ve met, but something held the words back. He was familiar, oddly so. He continued to stare at me, amusement lighting his brilliant eyes, along with something else, an intensity that made my spine prickle.
“You’re from New Zealand?” I blurted. “Are you here on holiday?”
“Kind of.” He gestured to the shops around us. “I’ve never been here before.”
“To the Trafford Centre? Or to Manchester?”
“Either. Would you show me around?”
Show a hot guy around my favourite shops? Shame it was only a dream. I smiled at him, and wondered where to begin. Something niggled. “How did you know my name?”
Levi pushed away from the bench to stand before me, tall and imposing, but delicious. He shrugged and held out a hand. “We met briefly, but you were, uh, distracted.” Wiggling his fingers, he gave me an enticing smile. “Shall we?”
Still, I hesitated. I’d never conjured up such a gorgeous apparition in my dreams before, and I knew it was too good to be true. Would he morph into a psycho and toss me over the railings to the gallery below? “I don’t usually hold hands with a guy I just met.”
“I wouldn’t want you to make a habit of it,” he countered swiftly, “but it’s solely for my benefit. I might get lost otherwise.” His eyes widened with mischief. “Man, I could be stuck in here for weeks.”
How could I resist?