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Hot Winter Nights is the sixth in New York Times bestselling author Jill Shalvis's Heartbreaker Bay series, featuring her trademark gift for humour, warmth and romance. Perfect for fans of Jill Mansell, Debbie Macomber, Nora Roberts and Marie Force.
Who needs mistletoe?
Most people wouldn't think of a bad Santa case as the perfect Christmas gift. Then again, Molly Malone, office manager at Hunt Investigations, isn't most people, and she could really use a distraction from the fantasies she's been having since spending the night with her very secret crush, Lucas Knight. Nothing happened, not that Lucas knows that-but Molly just wants to enjoy being a little naughty for once...
Whiskey and pain meds for almost-healed bullet wounds don't mix. Lucas needs to remember that next time he's shot on the job, which may be sooner rather than later if Molly's brother, Joe, finds out about them. Lucas can't believe he's drawing a blank on his (supposedly) passionate tryst with Molly, who's the hottest, smartest, strongest woman he's ever known. Strong enough to kick his butt if she discovers he's been assigned to babysit her on her first case. And hot enough to melt his cold heart this Christmas.
402 pages, Kindle Edition
First published September 25, 2018









"Love is just stumbling through life with your best friend.”
“Lucas?” she whispered.
“Yeah?”
“I’m in trouble with you.”
“You know martial arts?”
“A little. Sorry I almost kicked you.”
“Are you kidding?” he asked in disbelief. “If this costume wasn’t cutting off vital circulation, I’d be hard.
“She was online dating?”
Joe shook his head.
“Not anymore. I went in and changed her profile to make her seventy-five years old, using a picture of one of the Golden Girls. I edited it to say she likes slow rides on her motorized scooter and drinking Metamucil while watching the sunrise, since sleeping gave her indigestion. I’m pretty sure that fixed things.”






["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>“There’s something I need to talk to you about,” he said very seriously.
“I’m not going to rate your performance last night.”
“That’s not—” He paused, his eyes sharpened. “Wait. What does that mean?”
“Nothing.”
“So you’re saying I did suck.”
She had to laugh. “Well, if you can’t remember it, how good could it really have been, right?”
“Molly,” he breathed and shifted so that his forehead rested against hers. Sliding his hands into her hair, his fingertips against her scalp, he held her in place. “Do that again,” he demanded, his voice soft steel.
“And one more thing. No talking.”
“How about dirty talk?” he asked. “That doesn’t count, right?”
She surprised him by laughing and lightened his heart.
“Dirty talk is allowed,” she decided, and right then and there, he fell in love.
He was taking a chance.
On purpose.
He was putting himself out there and it was fucking terrifying.
