Cinnamon. The other scents were there, or not, but he’d smelled cinnamon on her for sure. And chocolate. Ester always had a peanut butter sandwich waiting for him, his favorite, or rather his compulsion. But then she’d offer some sort of delicious pastry or cookie for dessert.

He’d noticed Maizie had one of those quaint wicker baskets with the double handle and red-and-white-checkered lining. Was she Ester’s pastry supplier? Ester had never mentioned Maizie’s visits, what she’d brought.

Why would she? Ester knew how he felt. He’d made it perfectly clear all those years ago and Ester was a true, understanding friend.

What he’d sampled of the sugary confections, though, was heavenly. Better than most professional chefs he knew. Did Maizie bake for fun or profit? He wanted to know.

Sweet peat moss, what’s taking Annette so long?

The wall of trees along the country road broke for a wide open field and drew his gaze. He stared, only half noticing the huddle of cows, the barn and corn silos in the distance. His mind wandered too quickly to red hair and long silken legs.

Maizie looked good enough to eat. He’d known her hair was red. He’d remembered that much. But the luminousness, the thickness. Jeezus, he’d had no idea. The color reminded him of autumn leaves, the ones that made the forest seem ablaze with cool fire. And with those thick locks tumbling all the way down to the top curve of her ass, it seemed more a cloak than hair.

Gray tried to blink the vision from his mind and focused again on the paper. He found the name he’d been scanning for in seconds.

“Anthony Cadwick, you old prick.” The man certainly was busy. Harassing Ester in the morning and closing a major real-estate deal in the afternoon. Strong-arming homeowners and manipulating eminent domain laws was his specialty.

Cadwick was every bit the stereotypical wolf Ester had called him. Gray just hoped Ester could keep her wits about her when he came around again. He couldn’t let Cadwick get his hands on the Hood land. Just the thought of housing developments or discount supermarkets so close to his forest made his balls shrink.

Gray knew without looking the moment they turned onto the highway. The limo’s suspension was superior, but the difference between country roads and smooth highway was like cobblestone and glass.

No. Ester had Cadwick’s number, and Gray had her back just in case. Convincing her to sell would be like pushing water uphill for Cadwick. The wildcard was Maizie. Blanking her from his reality had knocked her off his radar completely. She was an “in” for Cadwick that Gray hadn’t considered.

No doubt she held a lot of sway with her grandmother. That alone was a danger he couldn’t tolerate. How easily could Maizie be manipulated? Did she need money? Was she easily seduced? Was she smart or gullible? Did she have skeletons to be exploited, dreams and goals Cadwick could hand to her on a platter?

Gray checked his watch. “Jeezus, Annette.”

Cadwick would do anything to turn a profit and with the kind of Fortune-500 clientele he dealt with, he had a lot of play room. Of course with Maizie’s looks it wasn’t hard to guess which tactic he’d try first.

At seventy-eight Gray looked the same age as Cadwick who was in his midforties. Though Gray was as fit as a man in his twenties. But Cadwick could still turn a pretty head or two. He had Romanesque features, larger nose, broader shoulders, stockier build.

His eyes were a dull brown, his hair as black as Gray’s, once upon a time. But where Gray’s had turned a silvery color, speckled with hints of black, Cadwick’s still held the dark tones, only turning a dirty ash at the temples. He wore it shorter than Gray, neatly trimmed over the ears and a half inch above the collar.

Which one of them was more Maizie’s type? Which one of them could seduce her best? Gray didn’t have a clue. But what if it came to that-to seduction? Could Gray do what needed to be done to keep the Hood land from being sold? Could he seduce Maizie Hood?

His gaze drifted out the window, to the cars falling back as his limo cruised past them. But it was a vision of fiery red hair and shapely long legs that filled his mind.

She’d looked like sinful innocence, if such a thing existed. The nubile body of a woman cloaked in a snow-white sundress spotted with daisies and a contrasting forest-green apron. Her full breasts had strained the dress’s low rounded collar, pressing against the apron so he’d been utterly incapable of shifting his attention enough to read the white lettering on the front pocket.

He’d noticed the sexy little sandals she wore though, and her painted toenails, a shade of red that paled in comparison to her hair. And he’d sure as hell noticed her lips. A ripe hue that had nothing to do with waxy makeup and everything to do with a woman in full bloom.

But beyond all that, it was her eyes that captured him. Green, the color of new alder leaves, they’d looked on him unabashed. He could still feel the heat of her gaze vibrating down his chest to his groin. Sweet peat moss, he’d almost come in his pants at the thrill of it.

Of course she couldn’t know what she was doing. The rules were different in her world, but the challenge had felt just the same. Without a word, she’d questioned his authority, defied it, demanded he prove his place otherwise she’d stand as his equal or dominant. And perhaps she was his equal. Certainly no one else had dared challenge him since he’d been bitten forty-three years ago.

He’d had no idea how much he missed it, how much a part of what he was needed that challenge. The beast in him craved the battle, ached to win his place, to win the female. Maizie’s bold defiance touched the very core of what he was, charged him with adrenaline and a primal lust he was only now fully absorbing.

A growl rumbled in his chest of its own accord, his hands fisted the paper, his eyes squeezed shut fighting the growing need. Blood surged through his body, hot tingling through his skin, pooling in his groin.

His cock grew heavy and thick, straining inside his slacks. He shifted in his seat, but the rub of his clothes against his sex only made the need worse.

“Fuckit.” After a haphazard fold to the paper, he tossed it across the compartment to the opposite seat. The limo was roomy, plenty of space to stretch, but Gray wouldn’t need much to find at least a small taste of relief.

Jeezus, he felt like a hormonal teenager. Couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken advantage of the privacy barrier between him and the driver, the dark windows to the outside world. Had to be more than a year, but this would be the first time he’d indulged alone. The beast in him had simple needs, but when those needs arose they could be all-consuming.

The swirl of emotion that surrounded Maizie in his mind-resentment, anger and pain-mixed with the desires she stirred in him as a man-lust, loneliness and attraction. He had to do something or lose all control.

He leaned back against the thick leather seat, tugging his slacks, trying to loosen the growing tightness. That helped, but his hard cock was still squeezed inside his briefs, and he wanted to do more than just give the Big Guy some room.

He closed his eyes and allowed the image of Maizie’s plump breasts, swelling over the edge of her sundress, to consume his thoughts. He could imagine the full ripe flesh filling his hands, her nipples puckering hard as cherry pits against his palms. God, he wanted to squeeze them, to twist and tease the little nubs with his fingers, with his teeth.

Gray stroked his cock through his slacks, the taut fabric almost providing enough of a barrier to trick his mind into believing it could be someone else’s hand. Her hand. The sensation rippled electric tingles through his balls, along his thighs. The muscles tugged, pressing his cock harder against his slacks, against the stroke of his hand.