Snowbound - Harlequin.com

264 SNOWBOUND
they would have, and whether either of them would have
been content with whatever that had turned out to be.
Unfortunately knowing she’d been right didn’t seem
to lessen her depression.
She had an exciting dinner of tomato soup from a
can and a grilled cheese sandwich, then tried to work
on a paper she was writing for a class in educational
psychology.
Fiona was about to give up after struggling first with
a paragraph for what had to be half an hour, then searching
for another fifteen minutes for a reference she knew
she’d jotted down. Somewhere. The sound of the
doorbell was a relief, even though it was unusual
enough on a weeknight to make her a little apprehensive.
She looked through the peephole and stared. Distorted
though the face was, it looked for all the world
like John Fallon. How could he be here? Had she ever
even given him her address?
Her knees felt weak and her heart drummed as she
fumbled with the locks and flung the door open.
“John?”
He looked like himself, and yet…not. For one thing,
it was April, so instead of a heavy sweater or down vest
over his jeans, he wore only an oatmeal-colored thermal
henley T-shirt, with the couple of buttons unfastened to
expose his sinfully sexy throat and chest. And athletic
shoes instead of boots. He’d had a haircut, too.
Recently, she thought. And he was so clean-shaven, he
had to have taken a razor to his five o’clock shadow.
Which meant… She couldn’t think what it meant.