Page 10 of Puck Love

I swallow, hard. “Actually, Stella would love somepancakes.”

Van raises a brow, but those dimples pop out again, and I glare at him as he walks to the door. Emmett scrambles out and down the stairs, and Van turns to look at me. “Course, you’re welcome to stay for dinnertoo.”

“Why are you being so nice tome?”

“Me?” He smirks. What is it with this guy and his stupid, sexy smirk? “Nice?”

“Why didn’t you call the police, or anambulance?”

“Because I figured I’d have paps all over my damn mountain, and I don’t want that. Reporters are an unfortunate side effect of what I do, but we don’t deal with paparazzi. This is Emmett's home, too. We don’t need that kind of attention in ourface.”

“Well, you’re lucky. Not all of us have a mountain to retreat to,” Imurmur.

“What are you running from, StellaHart?”

I grimace but put on a straight face. Just when I’m about to answer, Emmett calls out from the bottom of the stairs, and Van grins as if he knows I’m sighing withrelief.

“Saved by the bell, eh?” He turns and makes his way to the door. “Feel free to take a shower. Breakfast will be ready when you’redone.”

“I really can’t staylong. . .”

“The roads are pretty thick with snow, and your SUV is totaled. Where else are you gonnago?”

Damn him. He has a point. I sigh and finger the soft flannel of the shirt folded on the wingback chair. On top of the pile sits a pair of cotton panties, the tags still on, and it dawns on me again that I’m not wearing any. “Van, what happened to mypanties?”

He grins. “I took one look at them and they just disintegrated into thin air. That happens quite a bit when I’maround.”

I gape and grab a cushion from the chair, hurling it at him. He’s fast, and the door slams before my downy missile has time to hit themark.

Goddamn hockeyplayers.

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