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She perched on the arm of the sofa. “I always knew I wanted to write. My great uncle was a fairly well-known mystery writer in the sixties. By the time I was a preteen he wasn’t publishing much anymore, but he would let me read all of his books. Pretty inappropriate for a twelve-year-old, let me tell you. But I devoured them. I majored in journalism in college, but after a stint as a reporter during my senior year, I realized I wasn’t cut out for just the facts, ma’am. I was lucky. I won a couple of fiction competitions. And one of my professors had a relative who was an editor. He got my first manuscript read, and the rest is history.” She cocked her head. “Now can we discuss sex?”
He glanced at his watch, refusing to be drawn in again. “It’s late, Maddy. You need sleep. We’ll talk about this tomorrow. I’ll bunk down in here and you can have my bed.”
“No way.” Her response was adamant.
He raised his eyebrows. Was she really going to offer to share his bed? His noble intentions would carry him only so far.
She waved a hand. “You’re huge. I’ll be fine on the sofa. No arguments.” Her outthrust jaw defied him.
He shrugged. “Fine. I’ll get some bedding.”
A half hour later she was tucked in a nest of blankets with the lights turned out. He added more wood to the fire and replaced the screen. “I’ll tend to it during the night,” he said. “We can’t afford to let it go out in case we lose power.”
He couldn’t read her face. The firelight cast heavy shadows, and she had pulled the covers up to her chin. He stood, irresolute, reluctant to walk away from her. “Are you comfortable?” he asked, his voice husky with the effort not to say all those other, less-appropriate things that were buzzing in his brain.
Her nod was barely visible. “Yes.”
He approached the couch, his feet at odds with his brain. He sat on the edge of the coffee table. “How do you feel?”
“Fine.” Her voice was sulky.
He leaned forward and stroked her cheek. Her skin was soft and smooth. He wanted her with a driving urgency that had nothing to do with her artless invitation and everything to do with the warmth she had brought into his home. And he hadn’t even realized he was cold. Such sudden emotion was suspect. He wasn’t in the habit of jumping into relationships, sexual or otherwise.
But Maddy touched him deeply, made him yearn for things he had given up on a long time ago. He slipped to his knees and knelt over her. “Can I kiss you good night?” he whispered.
Her eyes were dark and mysterious. “I think that was pretty much included in my earlier blanket offer.” Humor laced her unsteady response.
He felt his pulse jump and gallop. Part of him—most of him—was still ready to take what was offered and consequences be damned. He brushed her lips. “I’m glad I found you.”
Her tongue peeked out to meet his. “Technically, I found you,” she muttered. She moaned as he moved down to nibble the underside of her jaw.
He didn’t stop her when she shoved the heavy blankets aside. “I’m hot,” she complained.
“Hell, me, too,” he groaned as his hands slipped under her shirt and skated north. His palms closed over warm, plump feminine curves. He started to shake.
She arched her back, murmuring incoherent pleas and demands. He pushed her top out of the way and sucked one of her nipples deep into his mouth. Her response was electric. She jerked and cried out as an orgasm ripped through her body.
He laid his head on her shoulder and stroked her hair as she quieted.
Her voice when she spoke was a tiny thread of sound. “Well, that was embarrassing. I guess we know now who’s the sex-starved one.”
“Not embarrassing, Maddy. Amazing. Do you have any idea how much I want you?”
She turned on her side and raised up on her elbow. “Then why?” she asked, her cat’s eyes gleaming with confusion.
He toyed with a curl that had escaped the rubber band and lay tumbled against her creamy breast. “We have several days. Let’s get to know each other. Then, if you’re still of the same mind . . . well . . .”
“You’ll jump my bones?” she asked hopefully.
He shook his head. “You really are a brat, aren’t you? Go to sleep, honey. We’ll see what tomorrow brings.”
* * *
Maddy lay awake for a long time, watching the dancing flames. It should have felt strange to be here in unfamiliar surroundings. But instead it felt safe, warm. Here in Grant’s cozy cabin she could ignore the shambles her personal life had become. With her parents acting like children and her last boyfriend a distant memory, facing the holidays had been more than she could bear.
Now fate and Mother Nature had given her a reprieve, and she intended to make the most of it. Grant Monroe was kind and gentle and so sexy he made her ache. He was also apparently unattached. Her brazen invitation had shocked her as much as it had Grant. But she didn’t regret it. Who could blame her for stealing this little slice of heaven? She closed her eyes and sighed. Van Gogh lay on top of her feet, the dog’s weight and warmth a comforting presence. For the moment, one simple, wonderful moment, life was perfect.
* * *
