His lips were on hers.

She didn’t know how it had happened. She’d woken up, confused and too hot and aching for a touch she’d felt just moments ago—only to realize that she’d dreamed.

Jonathan was asleep in her arms. The hard, virile body she’d pressed herself to in her dreams was real—but the dream was not.

The dream was already retreating quickly. She could barely remember details.

All she knew was that she was out of breath, her body restless, her nipples tight, aching for a touch.

And low in her belly, heat was still throbbing, her clit swollen and sensitive, her folds slick with arousal.

She’d dreamed of him, she remembered that much.

A beautiful, impossible dream of Jonathan making love to her on a soft rug inside a castle made of ice. Like a prince out of a fairytale, he’d danced with her in a glittering ballroom. And then everything had fallen away until it was just the two of them.

His strong hands on her thighs, so powerful and impossibly gentle at once. His lips against her throat, breathing kisses downward as his fingers slid higher. And then—

Then she’d woken, aching and confused and unfulfilled.

Certain that she’d never have what she’d dreamed of.

And even if he would want me—he’s a ranger, not a prince. All of this is ridiculous.

It stopped being ridiculous as soon as his lips touched hers.

Instead, it felt ridiculously right. His tongue was hot. She parted her lips for his exploration, allowing her hands to trail over his shoulders instead.

He kissed her until she was breathless, glad that she had something to hold on to. She could feel his hard muscles as she clung to him, her fingers digging into his broad shoulders. Something inside her that had been aching since she’d woken began to pulse with new urgency.

She’d never done anything like this before. All of her admittedly small experience came from the handful of dates her friends had set her up with, or the dating app she’d tried for one hopeful year.

Not once had she felt like this. Was this what real attraction felt like?

She’d wondered sometimes if she just wasn’t capable of it. When her best friend Belinda gushed for hours on the phone about her latest crush, Angel had always listened with a smile, happy to support her friend.

But she’d never felt like this herself. She’d never met a man and wanted him in her bed instantly, wanted to be kissed by him, wanted his hands to touch her all over.

Belinda had always affectionately told her that she was just waiting for Mr. Right to come along, which Angel in turn had always thought was a very sweet lie from her closest friend.

Only now, all of a sudden, all of her earlier fears and anxieties had been swept away by a wave of raw passion.

She wanted him. She wanted Jonathan more than she’d ever wanted anything in her life.

That was new, and a little scary, but right now she didn’t care.

All she cared about right now was to get as close as possible.

Wherever they touched, heat sprang up beneath her skin like little pinpricks.

When she shifted awkwardly, trying to get even closer, Jonathan made a sound deep in his chest, a possessive little growl. A second later, she found herself pushed to her back, Jonathan still above her, his mouth still exploring hers.

And his knee was between her legs now, her aching clit in close contact with the iron-hard muscles of his thigh.

Instinctively she arched against him—and then, at last, she could feel that he wanted her just as much as she wanted him.

He was hard. His shaft pressed against the side of her thigh, large and hot. The feeling of him took her breath away, the need inside her stomach turning into a twisting, turning want that made her moan into the kiss.

He slid his hand down from her hair, in which he’d buried his fingers.

His hand cupped her breast, making her arch again—and then his thumb found her nipple, circling it.

In response, heat pulsed through her body, her clit throbbing in sympathy. She pushed herself against him, breathless, wordless, moaning when he finally broke the kiss, his lips trailing a burning path down her throat—

And then a loud woof made them hastily pull apart.

“Lola!” With the sheet wrapped hastily around her body, Angel rushed towards the door.

When she opened it, the snow that had piled up high against the door came in—but with it, there came the familiar sight of the aging spaniel.

“Lola! Where have you been?” Kneeling in the snow that now covered the floor, Angel laughed when Lola licked her hands, her tail wagging so fast it looked like a blur.

“I thought I’d lost you! Never do that again, do you hear me? I was worried sick!”

It took a long moment until Angel realized that she was sitting on the snow-covered floor naked, with just a sheet wrapped around her, ice-cold air coming in through the open door.

It took even longer to convince Lola to let her get up. The old dog looked like she was determined to never, ever go outside again. And like she was willing to set up permanent camp in Angel’s lap to achieve that.

“Poor little Lola,” Angel crooned once she’d successfully managed to close the door. “You must have been so cold. Poor sweetie.”

Lola whined in agreement, then pressed herself so close to Angel’s knees that Angel almost stumbled three times on her way back to the couch.

“This is Lola,” she said proudly. “One of the two dogs I’m dog-sitting.”

“Hey, Lola.” Jonathan held out his hand.

As Lola suspiciously sniffed at it, Angel realized all of a sudden just what Lola had interrupted.

She winced with embarrassment.

Serves me right if I just blew my only chance...

“Sorry,” Angel added belatedly. When Jonathan looked up, she waved her hand vaguely, gesturing to him, then to her. “For—you know. Um. Interrupting.”

Smooth. If he wasn’t glad to be interrupted before this, I bet he’s glad now.

“It’s all right,” Jonathan said calmly. He gave her a slow smile. “I—I enjoyed that.”

“So did I.” She had to swallow, her own smile a little shaky.

Is he genuinely still interested in me? Perhaps it’s because we’re trapped in here by the snow. It’s not like he’s got a lot of choice.

Jonathan sat up slowly. The blankets fell down to pile in his lap, revealing his broad, chiseled chest.

Her mouth dry, Angel licked her lips, remembering what it had felt like to press herself against all that hard muscle.

“I’d like to kiss you again,” Jonathan said, still holding her gaze. His smile widened. “If you don’t mind?”

Angel shook her head, unable to form words. Slowly, she moved back towards the couch and sat down by his side.

His fingers brushed against her cheek. Gently, he traced the line of her cheekbone.

“You’re gorgeous,” he murmured. His fingers trailed down, brushing her collarbone.

Heat sprang up inside her once more, the tight coil of need in her belly making her ache for more of his touch. More of him.

And then their lips met again.

His hand cupped her cheek, holding her in place as he explored her mouth until she was moaning once more.

She was gripping his arm, needing something to hold on to. The sheet had dropped from her body again, and his other hand was slowly sliding up the side of her body—

“Woof!”

Lola jumped up onto the couch, and Angel reared back in sudden shock.

Lola’s wet, cold nose poked her nape.

“Yuck! Lola!”

Then Lola huffed and turned, then turned again. A moment later, she plopped down, spreading out on the couch with a little whine.

“Sorry,” Angel said with a groan.

Jonathan laughed softly and shook his head. “I guess she has decided that I’ve stolen too much of your attention already. Sorry, Lola.”

The old dog whined again. With a deep sigh, Angel turned around to pet Lola’s head.

“You couldn’t have chosen a worse time to reappear. But I’m glad you made it.”

“I think that’s our signal to stop wasting time and get up.” Jonathan leaned forward to gently pat Lola. “I’ll see if I can fix us some breakfast.”

“Thanks,” Angel said in relief. Now that she thought about it, she was hungry. More than hungry—absolutely famished.

A few minutes later, Jonathan returned with his scavenged breakfast. They had no milk—but they did have black coffee.

There was also dry cereal, a jar of peanut butter and a bag of Doritos.

“Hey, don’t knock it until you’ve tried it,” Jonathan said and scooped up some peanut butter with a Dorito. “Mmm.”

“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” she said dryly. Then her empty stomach rumbled, and she sighed.

The peanut butter did look tempting. She’d just have preferred a simple sandwich.

Or eggs and bacon. Or pancakes. Which they weren’t going to find out here on the mountain in the aftermath of a blizzard.

She took a sip of her coffee, sighing in pleasure.

Jonathan took another Dorito, scooped up more peanut butter, and then held it out with a grin.

She felt herself starting to smile. Shaking her head at him, she nevertheless leaned forward for the Dorito.

The peanut butter was delicious, creamy and smooth and sweet. The Dorito added a salty crunch that actually wasn’t bad.

Or maybe right now she was just so hungry that she’d have eaten anything. Still.

“All right, I’m convinced. Thanks for the, uh, inventive breakfast.”

She had another handful of Doritos with peanut butter, then finished it off with a bowl of dry Froot Loops.

“Once we’re out of here, I’ll treat you to a real breakfast,” he said. He gave his own Froot Loops a wistful look. “French toast with lots of strawberries. Bacon. Poached eggs. More bacon.”

“Sounds great.” Angel sighed as she eyed the jar of peanut butter. They’d finished almost half of it.

I hope we won’t be trapped in here for long. Maybe we should have rationed our food...

“So what brings you out here? Are you a ranger?”

Jonathan shook his head. He looked a little uncomfortable. He pushed his bowl away, then took a deep breath.

“I guess you have a right to know. I know it’ll be hard to believe—but I promise I wouldn’t lie to you. Not ever.”

Angel raised a brow. That sounded ominous.

Maybe he’s a criminal on the run. Only he doesn’t look like the sort of person who’d ever hurt another...

“You found me,” he said softly. He was looking at her, his eyes strangely intense, gleaming like sunlight on ice. “Do you remember? Do you remember the cave you found?”

She’d thought that she’d dreamed it. She’d been half frozen to death by that point. Surely it hadn’t been real?

“A cave,” she murmured. It was hard to remember details. “Snow. Ice. So much ice, all around me. I was so exhausted—I just wanted to curl up in the snow and go to sleep. And then—then I saw him. The ice dragon.”

Had that been real? Even now, with her memories of those moments almost completely faded, she remembered the majesty and the power of the dragon. He’d been beautiful. And so detailed that it looked like he could’ve come to life at any moment.

His paws. I saw his paws move...

But surely that had been a dream. The dragon hadn’t been real—and neither was that memory.

“I’m the dragon,” he said. His eyes looked even more brilliant now. “I’m a dragon shifter, Angel. Ten years ago, I hid in that cave. I hid from the world. And I turned into ice.”

She stared at him for a long moment.

And then she broke into laughter.

“Very funny,” she said. “No, but really. What do you do? It’s okay if you don’t want to say. I know what it’s like—I just can’t get a job in my field. Had to move back in with my parents, at my age. That’s why I came out here for the dog-sitting job. They pay well, and I want to do this intense course that’s supposed to get me into IT, and hopefully back into a place of my own—”

“I’m not joking.” Jonathan was still looking at her. He seemed completely calm—but something about his eyes was strange.

They really do look like ice. Like ice illuminated by the sun—not cold, but clear and beautiful like diamonds.

“I’m an ice dragon. The ice and snow is my element.”

She could barely muffle another laugh. “I almost believed you. I can’t believe you can just say that with a straight face.” She bit back a grin. “Not a ranger then—maybe a writer? Or, no—a personal trainer?”

Ooh, what if he’s in one of those special units where they aren’t allowed to tell you that’s what they do. That makes sense.

Jonathan shook his head. “I’d show you,” he said hesitantly, “but I slept for ten years in the ice. All my powers have been drained. That’s why it almost killed me yesterday to go out. But you were in danger. I don’t know where it came from—but there was a dire wolf out there. And that blizzard didn’t seem entirely natural.”

“A dire wolf,” she echoed. “What...what’s a dire wolf?”

Uncomfortably, she remembered the awful howl. And there’d been that moment when she’d been certain that she’d seen some sort of monster. A wolf who was way too large, with terrible yellow eyes and fangs as long as her fingers...

A dream. A dream caused by nearly dying in the snow!

But it was difficult to believe that when apparently, Jonathan had seen it too.

“This doesn’t make sense.” She glared at him. “Dragons and giant wolves don’t exist. And blizzards are completely natural, especially here in the mountains in winter.”

Of course it was all too good to be true. A guy like that, who looks like that—who kisses like that... Something had to be up with that.

She took a deep breath to calm herself.

I didn’t come here for romance anyway, she reminded herself.

I was going to study day and night. Turn my life around. Get a nice, well-paid IT job, my own apartment, and a sweet, awkward, nerdy IT boyfriend. Someone who’s boring, but who won’t run around claiming to be a dragon.

“You remember the dragon,” he said, tilting his head at her. “You just said you did. Where do you think it came from?”

“It wasn’t real! I was half frozen to death. My mind made it all up.”

He made a thoughtful sound. “Then how come we both saw the dire wolf?”

“How do you know I saw it?” She narrowed her eyes at him.

“I felt your terror,” he said softly. “That’s how I knew I had to stop him. That he was here for you.”

“None of this makes sense.” Frustrated, she turned away from him. She felt tears welling up in her eyes.

“I’m not lying to you. I wouldn’t, not ever.”

When she turned back to face him, she saw that he had leaned forward. The light in his eyes was more intense now.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “This might wipe me out for a bit, but I’ll be fine. I promise.”

Then he pointed at his coffee cup. The coffee cup that was still half filled with steaming coffee.

A moment later, frost appeared on the outside of the cup.

Angel couldn’t move as she stared at it, frozen with disbelief.

Frost flowers spread all around the cup—and then, with a crack, the cup split.

“Whoops,” Jonathan murmured.

Angel still couldn’t take her eyes off the cup. Because now, instead of hot coffee  pouring all over the table, she could see that the steaming hot coffee had suddenly become a solid block of frozen ice.

“Impossible,” she breathed.

Carefully, she reached out until she could touch it with her fingertips. The ice was so cold that her skin ached when she hastily pulled back.

Jonathan had sunk back onto the couch where Lola had now curled up into a tight circle by his legs. His eyes were half-closed, but he was smiling faintly.

“You woke me from the ice,” he murmured again. “Sorry—so tired...”

His eyes fell shut, and a second later, he was deeply asleep next to Lola.

“What the hell,” Angel muttered, looking from him to the block of solid coffee ice and back again.

Then she carefully tiptoed forward and grabbed hold of the pile of blankets, pulling them up to cover Jonathan.

Did that just really happen?

She’d watched him do it. It wasn’t a magic trick—well, it had to be magic, but it wasn’t a trick. The coffee had been hot just a second ago, and now it was ice.

Jonathan had turned it into ice. The same way he’d apparently turned himself into ice, if what he said was true.

Still shaking her head, she touched the ice again.

It was still just as cold, and just as real.

Silently, she cleared away the remnants of their breakfast. When she returned, Jonathan was still asleep.

She watched him sleeping for a while, trying to remember the ice dragon she’d seen. Was he really a dragon?

And if he was—then it also meant that the strange monster she’d seen was real.

The dire wolf.

She shivered, goosebumps springing up all over her skin.

She nudged Lola until the old dog reluctantly made space, and then curled up on the couch next to Jonathan again, trying to forget the scary, yellow-eyed wolf who might still be prowling through the snow outside.

Jonathan might be a dragon, and he might be able to turn coffee into ice—but for some reason, she still felt safe with him.

I still want him, she realized, warmth filling her when he moved in his sleep and wrapped his arm around her waist.

Maybe that was magic, too. Maybe the force of her desire should scare her.

But for some reason, despite everything that had happened, she couldn’t think of any place she’d rather be right now.