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mocking what he couldn’t explain.

She opened the door leading from the kitchen to the basement.

“Let me go first,” he said, practically lifting her off the floor to move her out of the way.

She clamped her lips together. He had his nerve! She raised her hands to assist him on his way down the flight of stairs, then thought better of it. Murder wasn’t on her list of things to do this weekend…yet. Besides, it wouldn’t count if he saw his own ghost.

He switched the light on as he went down the stairs, testing each step before he put all of his weight on it.

“Are you sure you want to come down here? It’s in pretty sad shape,” he said.

“I want to look through some of the boxes. It’s not so bad,” she said, looking around.

She sneezed. When he glanced over his shoulder, disbelief was written all over his face.

“Okay, maybe it is,” she conceded. “But I still want to look around.”

He continued down the stairs. She carefully followed, watching her steps. She didn’t trust the staircase not to collapse beneath her.

Once her feet were on the concrete floor, she looked around. The basement was pretty dismal, but she wasn’t about to back down now.

A thick layer of grime coated the windows, letting no light in whatsoever. It didn’t matter. There was enough light from the bulb that she could see what she was doing. And right now her palms were itching to see what was in some of the boxes that were stacked against the wall. She made a beeline for them.

“Let me get it down for you,” Trent offered.

“Back off,” she told him. “I can get it myself.” The boxes were only stacked chest high, and she didn’t need his help. He was only there in case the ghosts showed up. Besides, she was still ticked by his earlier remarks. Her breasts weren’t sagging. They were…perky!

“Fine,” he said and backed away.

She wrestled with the box. Okay, it was a little heavier than she’d expected, but nothing she couldn’t manage.

A low table sat in the center of the room. She clamped her lips together to keep from grunting as she carried the box over to it so she could spread out her treasures.

“You’re actually going to dig through that filthy box and expect to find something of value?”

“What you consider valuable and what I consider valuable are probably miles apart from each other.” She set the box on the table, letting her breath out as she did. Thank goodness she hadn’t dropped it before she got it there. He would’ve really razzed her then.

But she had made it, and the box was just the right height that she could peer inside. She pushed the cardboard flap open on one side, then the other. Excitement fluttered inside her. What treasure would she unearth? She leaned in for a closer look.

Blech, it was dirty and smelled gross. Like something had died and been stuffed inside.

Not good when you were living in a haunted house. Lord, she hoped she wouldn’t find someone’s remains. She swallowed past the lump in her throat and viewed the contents.

Lots of torn-up newspaper. Please don’t let there be bones or anything under the papers, she silently prayed. Trent would have some smart-ass remark if there were, and she’d had just about all his snarkiness she wanted to take.

Slowly she pulled away the top layer of paper.

Beady little eyes stared back at her.

“Eghhhhhhh!”

Her scream echoed in the cavernous room.

“Rats!” She whirled around and threw herself at Trent.

God, she hated rats! They were filthy, vile creatures. Shivers of revulsion ran over her body as she tried to climb up Trent’s.

In one swoop he scooped her into his arms. She buried her face in his shirt.

“It’s a mouse.” His chest rumbled.

“Not funny—again!” She took a deep breath. “Is it gone?”

“I think you scared it worse than it scared you. It was probably traumatized for life. It might need mouse therapy.”

“Put me down.” She hated when someone made fun of her. Damn it, a mouse had run across her hand once. Yuck! Ewww! Mice were nasty little creatures.

“Are you sure you saw a mouse and you’re not trying to seduce me again?” He looked around. “Not the best place for sex.”

“No place would be good for sex with you.”

“How will you know if you don’t try me?”

“Can you please put me down so we can get back to work?” She wondered if he was listening to her. He just stared. It was all she could do not to squirm in his arms. It was as if he looked past all the barbs she’d thrown and saw the woman he held.

She was such a fake. Could he see that she lusted after his body? Damn, she hoped not.

She breathed a little easier when he put her feet on the floor. At least, until she remembered the mouse. She scanned the area just to be on the safe side. It looked clear.

“You’re sure it ran out of the box.”

“I won’t swear to it.”

She jiggled the box, then jumped back.

Nothing.

“You’re scared of mice, yet you claim to talk to the dead. Do you see anything wrong with that picture?”

“Yes, I don’t claim to talk to the dead. I do talk to the dead. Sometimes they scare the hell out of me, too.”

She went back to the box and shook it again, but this time she moved back only a foot. When nothing scurried out, she stepped closer and yanked out the paper before looking inside.

Yuck! All that trouble for dirty, grimy metal parts. Just bits and pieces of junk. The next one might yield something interesting, though.

She hesitated only briefly before going to get another box, but when she reached to lift it down, Trent beat her to it and brought it to the table. He had on another T-shirt and oh, boy, did it stretch taut across his muscles. She already knew how they felt.

Damn, she couldn’t believe she’d practically climbed up him. Stupid

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