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She wove through the main room, nodding greetings but not stopping. Sinking to a seat near the fire, she looked out the window.

“Looks like it’s coming down harder than it was yesterday.”

She gave Alistair a brief smile as he claimed a seat near her, only to return her gaze out the window and to the wall of white.

“Any idea how long we’ll be here? I know the plows can’t get through but I’m amazed by how fast it’s coming down.”

“This is a storm the likes of which they’ve not seen in years. I think Naomi said close to a century.”

Fucking perfect.

“Reminds me of a time when I was in the Hakkoda Mountains. Did you know that Aomori City gets the most snow in the world?” She’d been doing a story on sparsely populated Higashidori village’s abalones and sea urchins, after which she’d visited Aomori City for a while to enjoy the snow.

“Where’s that?”

She shook her head with a smile. “Japan. Sorry, my mind tends to wander.”

He leaned close and nudged her arm with his. “Don’t worry, Hope. We’ll keep you occupied.”

“Thank you.” Try as she might, she wasn’t sure how much joy she’d interjected into her tone. She didn’t often get lost in thoughts of places she’d been. Must be the fact I recently lost my mentor.

Alistair stretched his legs out in front of him and laced his fingers together, resting them over his flat stomach.

“So, tell me about you, Hope. What makes you tick? What’s your favorite dessert…and what’s your idea of a perfect date?”

It wasn’t possible to stay distant with his infectious tone. She placed a hand over her chest, batting her lashes. “So personal, and so soon? Why, Alistair, I’m not sure I’m ready for such an inquisition.”

He laughed and rolled his eyes.

Hope liked him. Wished she’d been attracted to this man. Or anyone else here besides the one she shared a room with…by default.

“I’m pretty much a what-you-see-is-what-you-get gal. Dessert wise, I love a good key lime pie, but I don’t turn my nose up at any good food. Life’s too damn short for me to deny myself things that make me happy.”

Chapter Eight

Standing off to the side, Mitchell observed Hope as she spoke with Alistair. Things had been strained between them since he’d stiffened up at her question last night.

It sucked. He hadn’t meant to hurt her with his reaction but damn it, his guys were right, his mother had done a number on him. He clenched a fist and took several deep breaths.

This should be perfect. She was keeping out of his way so he could do exactly what he had convinced himself he wanted to do. Bury himself in work.

Why then do I keep coming to find this woman?

He couldn’t stay away from her. She wasn’t seeking him out, it was him coming after her. And in cases like he was faced with now, he wanted nothing more than to wedge himself between her and the man she was talking and laughing with. Not a viable option.

Okay, it was, but it wasn’t one he should act on. Delano, Linc’s father, wouldn’t be pleased with his behavior and the man had made it abundantly clear how proud he was that all three of them had manners and knew how to treat others. Especially women.

He forced himself to retreat upstairs to the room. When he shut the door behind himself, he wasn’t met by the relief he was used to feeling when he didn’t have to be around people. No, this time there was an empty spot in his stomach that he didn’t much care for. He wanted to fill it.

Mitchell walked to the table and stared down at the lid of his computer, not making a move to open it. A knock on the door came as a welcome intrusion. He strode to the door and opened it to find Naomi’s husband Phillip standing there.

“Yes, sir?”

“I’m sorry to bother you, son. I know you’re probably very busy but we’re running low on wood and I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind helping me bring some more in.”

Physical activity. Exactly what he needed.

Immediately thoughts of a naked Hope flashed through his mind. Swallowing hard, he nodded. “Of course. Let me grab my coat.”

Once he shrugged into it and they were in the hall, he closed the door behind him and followed Phil down to the first floor. It wasn’t easy to avoid stealing a peek into the living room in a desperate attempt to snag a glance of Hope.

The cold slapped him with fervor the moment they were outside. He turned up his collar and wished for Monterey once again. He trailed the man as he followed a rope running from the main house to the barn. The icy pellets belted his face, making him think this was less snow falling and more sleet. Either way, it hurt like a mother. He angled his head best he could to protect his exposed skin.

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