Snowbound - Harlequin.com

JANICE KAY JOHNSON 177
dark but for the one lamp she’d left on in the living
room. Even before putting groceries away, she turned
up the thermostat, hearing the furnace come on with a
muted roar. A fire would feel good, but she had no fireplace.
If the builder had bothered, it probably would
have been one of those gas ones that were all show and
put out no real heat, nothing like the huge, river rock
fireplace capable of heating the entire lodge.
She put away the perishables, then went to her computer.
It was silly, of course; John had probably gone
down to town this afternoon to load up on groceries,
and might not make it back to check e-mail for days
or even a week. It wasn’t as if he was waiting by his
computer for her e-mail. But she’d promised to let
him know right away when they arrived safely, and
she’d do it.
Once the computer had booted and she’d gone
online, she skimmed the handful of e-mails that had
arrived while she was gone and deleted the spam, then
called up the screen for a new message. She typed in
the address he’d given her for his private email, then
typed “Dear John” before stopping.
Too formal. He’d kissed her that morning, dragged
her so tightly against him that she’d felt every contour
of his body and the full length of his erection. Even the
memory was enough to arouse her.
Why couldn’t she feel this way for someone more…
convenient? Why a man so damaged emotionally, he
might never be willing to leave his refuge in the mountains?
She started over.