Snowbound - Harlequin.com
Snowbound - Harlequin.com Snowbound - Harlequin.com
184 SNOWBOUND Go see her. When was he supposed to do that? He didn’t have a weekend until March without reservations. Suppose he drove down on a Monday. She’d be working. At best she’d save an evening for him. He didn’t want just an evening, he wanted her. Memories of Fiona haunted him all week. The way she curled her feet under her in the chair. The flash of bare legs when she’d stripped in front of the fire that first night. Her smile, her laugh, the soft grumpy sound she made when she awakened. Every damn thing he did reminded him of her. Monday he drove back down to town for no other reason than to check e-mail. She’d responded with a chatty update. Willow and Dieter were holding hands in the hall between classes and Willow glowed. Amy was subdued. Maybe chastened? Fiona, he thought, could never be anything but hopeful. She wrote about her plans for Thanksgiving and asked if he’d be making a big dinner with all the trimmings for his guests. He hit Reply and told her about this weekend’s guests, including the couple who’d stayed but eaten at the end of the table, keeping their voices low and ignoring the two other couples, and who had complained before leaving that his rates were out of line given the lack of luxuries. Were you polite? Fiona asked with interest the following week, before describing her Thanksgiving stay
JANICE KAY JOHNSON 185 with her mother who, astonishingly, had invited a male friend to dinner. I’m embarrassed at how terribly awkward I found it, even though they were very careful not to even brush hands while passing the gravy. Honestly. I felt like a sullen twelve-year-old! John reported: I was one hell of a lot politer than he deserved. I even reduced his bill. I wish I could have seen your face, Fiona said, and he could almost hear her laughing. John started driving to town twice a week to check his e-mail and write her. She always responded immediately. He began to resent the lodge’s lack of telephone service that would have allowed him to have an Internet connection. Of course, he could call her. But talking never came easily to him. He could just imagine the silences so long he’d keep wondering if he’d been cut off. She would undoubtedly sound warm and friendly, but without seeing her face how could he tell if it was forced? Until she’d come to the lodge, he hadn’t known he was lonely, but now with her gone, the isolation from any meaningful human contact ate at him. It was almost worse when the lodge was occupied. People rarely came alone. They came in couples, family groups, parties of friends. He would see the way they touched each other
- Page 134 and 135: CHAPTER EIGHT FIONA NOTICED that Jo
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- Page 152 and 153: CHAPTER NINE KISSING FIONA gave him
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- Page 170 and 171: CHAPTER TEN IN HER REARVIEW MIRROR,
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- Page 188 and 189: CHAPTER ELEVEN THE ROAD FELT famili
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184 SNOWBOUND<br />
Go see her.<br />
When was he supposed to do that? He didn’t have a<br />
weekend until March without reservations. Suppose he<br />
drove down on a Monday. She’d be working. At best<br />
she’d save an evening for him. He didn’t want just an<br />
evening, he wanted her.<br />
Memories of Fiona haunted him all week. The way<br />
she curled her feet under her in the chair. The flash of<br />
bare legs when she’d stripped in front of the fire that<br />
first night. Her smile, her laugh, the soft grumpy sound<br />
she made when she awakened. Every damn thing he did<br />
reminded him of her.<br />
Monday he drove back down to town for no other<br />
reason than to check e-mail. She’d responded with a<br />
chatty update. Willow and Dieter were holding hands<br />
in the hall between classes and Willow glowed. Amy<br />
was subdued. Maybe chastened?<br />
Fiona, he thought, could never be anything but hopeful.<br />
She wrote about her plans for Thanksgiving and<br />
asked if he’d be making a big dinner with all the trimmings<br />
for his guests.<br />
He hit Reply and told her about this weekend’s<br />
guests, including the couple who’d stayed but eaten at<br />
the end of the table, keeping their voices low and<br />
ignoring the two other couples, and who had <strong>com</strong>plained<br />
before leaving that his rates were out of line<br />
given the lack of luxuries.<br />
Were you polite? Fiona asked with interest the following<br />
week, before describing her Thanksgiving stay