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He winced.
She went on, her eyes dark and sad. “The divorce was final at Thanksgiving. They each decided they needed to find themselves. Daddy is on safari in Kenya, and Mother is cruising the South Pacific.”
Grant had a sudden real urge to find the elder Tierneys and knock their heads together for not having more compassion than to leave their daughter at Christmas, especially when she was still adjusting to their newly dissolved marriage. He probed carefully. “Brothers and sisters?”
“I’m an only child,” she said simply. “I have aunts and uncles and cousins, and they’ve all invited me for the holidays, but I told them I would be traveling.”
Now he understood. She was enacting the adult equivalent of running away from home. “So that’s why you let your friends leave without you today. You didn’t want to go home.”
She opened her mouth to speak, and then clearly changed her mind.
“Maddy? Was that it?”
“Not exactly,” she muttered. She looked at the fireplace. “Don’t we need more wood?”
Maddy watched her host as he carefully stacked three new logs on the fire and poked it until the flames were once again licking greedily up toward the flue. His squatting position pulled his faded jeans taut over a truly noteworthy butt. His shoulders threatened to split the seams of his soft flannel shirt. She had enjoyed sitting cozily with him on the sofa, way too much, if she was honest with herself. He exuded the kind of dependability and caring that made a woman feel protected.
A man as stunningly masculine and virile as Grant Monroe was probably tired of women throwing themselves at him. It would be terribly selfish of Maddy to use his kindness as an excuse to insinuate herself into his affections. On the other hand, nearly dying tended to change a woman’s perspective. Carpe diem and all that. From now on she would reach out and grab the opportunities life sent her way . . . And Grant Monroe was the most delicious opportunity she’d met in a long, long time.
As he moved around the room, she watched him surreptitiously. He was surprisingly graceful for his size. She wondered if he was big everywhere, and then she had to choke back a giggle as she realized the direction her wayward thoughts were taking.
He must have sensed her amusement, because he turned around and raised an eyebrow. His hair was dark, and she could see the shadow of late-day stubble. “Am I entertaining you?” he asked with a gentle smile.
Her nipples tightened, and her breathing was shallow. His smile was lethal. She licked her lips. “I was just thinking about something that happened on the trail the other day. It had nothing to do with you.”
His knowing glance made her squirm, but he went back to his task. He disappeared for a few minutes and came back with coat hangers and marshmallows. He held up the bag. “Want some?”
She nodded. “Sure. But I don’t think I can manage this blanket and cook at the same time.”
He glanced at the clock on the mantel. “I threw your clothes in the dryer. They’re probably done by now.”
He headed back toward the kitchen and returned minutes later, triumphantly bearing her pants. “The shoes are still damp.”
She took the jeans from him. “Turn around.”
He put his hands on his hips, ignoring her demand. “Spoilsport. Surely you know I got an eyeful earlier.”
She looked down her nose at him. “That was different. That was a medical situation. You were saving my life.”
His teasing smile faded. “Those long legs of yours nearly stopped my heart. You’re beautiful, Maddy.”
The simple sincerity in his voice caught her off guard. One minute they were exchanging banter, the next he was looking at her like a prospective lover. She stood mute, not knowing how to respond. The air grew thick and heavy. She focused on his lips, full and firm. Eminently kissable. What would he do if she launched herself into his arms?
A log popped and hissed, sending a shower of sparks up the chimney. It broke the strange spell holding them hostage. He turned back to the fire, his shoulders stiff. “I won’t peek,” he said gruffly.
She dropped the blanket and wriggled into her jeans. They were toasty warm from the dryer. She relinquished the blanket reluctantly. It had afforded a certain amount of protection.
She picked up one of the coat hangers and speared a duo of plump marshmallows. Grant already had one toasting deep within the fire. When he extracted it, it was a deep golden brown. He blew on it and then held out his hand. “Open your mouth.”
She obeyed like a spineless puppet. The sweet, gooey sugar melted on her tongue.
Grant’s finger seemed trapped somehow between her lips, and he flushed as her teeth grazed it when she sucked the last of the residue from his skin. She managed to swallow without choking. His chest rose and fell rapidly. Her own breathing was jerky.
“Delicious,” she said, shivering as he traced her bottom teeth with his fingertip.
“Damn.” His sudden exclamation shocked her until she followed the direction of his gaze. The marshmallows she held over the fire were an unrecognizable black glob. Grant took the coat hanger from her hand and raked the burning mess off onto a log. He glanced at her wryly. “I take it you weren’t a Girl Scout.”
“Hey,” she said, frowning. “That wasn’t my fault. You distracted me.”
