Snowbound - Harlequin.com

JANICE KAY JOHNSON
39
“They shower a lot. They’re awfully conscious of
how they look.” And smell.
“I remember.”
She sniffed. “Did you bake that bread fresh this
morning?”
“Figured we’d need it.”
“Did you ever go to bed?”
His big shoulders moved. “I get up early.”
She opened her mouth.
“No more thanks.” Was that a trace of humor in his
eyes? Or was she imagining it?
Like the living area with its enormous, river-rock
fireplace, the kitchen was vast, the cabinets rustic, the
floor slate. There was plenty of room in the middle for
a table that would seat at least twenty.
Almost at random, she chose a red plaid flannel shirt
from the neat piles on the table. “If you’ll excuse me…?”
He stepped aside.
Clutching the shirt, she hurried upstairs. Ugh. Nothing
like letting a man you’d barely met see you first
thing in the morning.
Willow had joined the others, and called after her, “I
want a bath, too!”
“I had dibs on it.”
She locked the door and started water cascading into
the tub before she noticed a cut-glass bowl of bath beads
on an antique wood commode situated perfectly to hold
a glass of wine, say, or candles.
The tub was definitely big enough for two.
She dropped a white bead in, and soon the scent of
gardenias filled the steamy air.