When Caleb Mann gets dumped for being boring in bed, he realizes he’s been all work and no play for far too long. Stung, he agrees to be set up by his younger brother, and a case of mistaken identity soon has him following a motorcycle riding temptress into a paranormal world he’s never believed in.

Free spirited Gina Devlin can’t resist when she shakes the hand of the sexy, but uptight, pressed jeans wearing Caleb and gets a psychic flash of sensual sweaty naked bodies. She needs a distraction, and he’s perfect for a one night stand, because Gina’s had enough dreams to know they don’t always come true.

Or do they?

Caleb Mann strode through the heavy glass doors of Fusion Cafe and continued straight to the service counter without looking left or right. The air conditioning inside the café was a welcome relief from the humid heat of mid-May in Pearson, British Columbia. It also took the edge off his nerves.
Mug of strong, black coffee firmly in hand, Caleb took a deep breath, stepped to the side of the counter, and scanned the room.
The sunlight bounced off the surface of Pearson Lake, directly across the street, brightening the small café. Colorful paintings on the walls and mismatched furniture gave it a funky, comfortable feel that was reflected in the diverse clientele. A slick looking businessman stood a couple of feet away, impatiently ordering a fluffy latte from the frowning counter girl. An older lady and a girl who was probably her granddaughter sat with a coloring book in front of them.
None were who he was looking for.
He disregarded the twenty-something male engrossed in a novel nearby and briefly considered the woman by the window. Well-dressed, with long dark hair, she sat ramrod straight as she watched people come and go. She was pretty, but Caleb didn’t think she was the type of woman his brother would be friends with. Uncertain, he let his gaze slide away.
Then he saw her.
Removing his sunglasses, he gave the woman a slow perusal. She’d isolated herself by sitting at a small corner table, head bent over a notepad of some kind. Yet, she still seemed approachable. The invisible wall that emanated from most people when they wanted to be left alone was missing.
She was dressed casually in a short camouflage skirt and a tight black tank top that made it impossible to ignore her pert breasts. If for some unknown reason he hadn’t noticed her mouth-watering cleavage, he’d certainly have given the length of tanned flesh exposed by the short skirt a second glance. She was exactly Gabe’s type. It had to be her.
Caleb had expected nothing less from his little brother than to set him up with a real looker. What he hadn’t expected was his own instant and primal reaction to her – the way his blood heated and his stomach clenched when he looked at her – or the way the inky black hair that skimmed across her pale shoulders had his fingers itching with the urge to touch … to brush it aside so he could nibble on her tender flesh.
His reaction surprised him, but for once he didn’t try to contain, or control it. After all, if she was a friend of his “work hard-play harder” younger brother, chances were she was also a party girl – a bad girl.
Oh, yeah, he thought to himself. The total opposite of what he normally looked for in the fairer sex, and exactly what he needed.
Detail oriented guy that he was, Caleb leaned against the counter and studied her for a minute. Skimpy clothes flaunted bare limbs, bright purple polish sparkled on her fingertips, and silver jewelry flashed when she shifted in the filtered sunlight. There was also a tattoo on the inside of her wrist, very … exciting. He willed her to lift her head so he could see her face clearly, only to have his breath catch in his throat when she did so.
Flawless skin smoothed over high cheekbones, tiny white teeth nibbled at a full pink lip, dark eyebrows flared over almond shaped eyes. He couldn’t see their color from where he was, but it didn’t matter. Her classic beauty and outrageous sex appeal called to him unlike anything, or anyone, ever had.
He wanted her. Instantly and unequivocally.
Shrugging his suddenly tense shoulders, Caleb pushed off from the counter. You’re not here to find your soul mate, he reminded himself, just someone to let loose with.
He was tired of everyone ragging on him for being a workaholic. Hell, if he hadn’t worked so hard for the past ten years, Gabe wouldn’t have been able to go to college. Someone had had to pay the bills after their parents died. Plus, his work was satisfying in a way his player of a brother would never understand, so the nagging hadn’t really bothered him.
Until his last girlfriend dumped him because he was too “old and settled” for her, that is. Then he’d felt a bit of a sting. He was only thirty-three, for God’s sake!
Even then her comments hadn’t really hurt him. Not until she’d turned the sting into a downright festering burn by adding that his good looks couldn’t compensate for his lack of imagination in the romance department, let alone the bedroom.
Anger, and a twist of uncertainty, burned a hole in his gut. That had been hitting below the belt, literally.
Lack of imagination? He had plenty of imagination. And the wild-child woman his little brother had set him up with was going to help him prove it.
Halting next to her table, he pasted a winning smile on his face and opened his mouth.
“Excuse me, Christina?”

When Gina Devlin realized the question was directed at her, she huffed out a grateful breath and tossed aside her pencil. Normally she didn’t welcome interruptions when she was working, but her temperamental muse had deserted her, taking any semblance of artistic talent along with him. That made it pretty damn hard to get the initial sketches for her new commission down.
Eager for a distraction, Gina leaned back in the spindly chair and looked over the wall of muscle standing next to her corner table with a big grin on his gorgeous face. And her skin immediately began to itch from the inside out.
He was her favorite type of distraction – big, and male.
The buttoned-up shirt and pressed jeans he wore did nothing to detract from the wide shoulders and slim hips they covered. But, in her mind, they did label him a stickler for the rules, and that made him totally not her type. Only an uptight stick-in-the-mud ironed his jeans.
Not being her type didn’t stop her eyes from continuing to skim appreciatively over those trim hips, and the impressive package between them, though. And of course she couldn’t stop there so she mentally drooled over his muscled thighs for a long moment before raising her gaze to meet his.
A steady gaze that was vaguely familiar.
Shaking off that thought, she realized that he’d called her Christina. The little devil inside her strained at the leash she’d kept him on for the last six months. Poking her with his pointy tail he screamed, “Do it! Do it!”
Before she could think twice, her lips parted and the words tumbled out. “I prefer Tina.” After all, it’s closer to Gina.