Snowbound - Harlequin.com

84 SNOWBOUND
“Fiona.”
She slept on, lips parted, her expression serene.
Clearly she wasn’t fighting bad dreams.
He reached out, wanting to push back the curls that
had fallen over her face. His fingers tingled from the
need to feel their springy texture and the plump satin
of her cheeks. But he didn’t want her to catch him in
the act, so reluctantly he shook her shoulder instead.
“Fiona.”
She mumbled something and buried her face in the
pillow.
Perhaps he should just go start dinner himself. He
wasn’t used to help and didn’t really need it. Spaghetti
was one of his standbys. He had made it weekly
for the past year.
Maybe she’d only fallen asleep a short while ago. A
trade paperback book lay open beside her, facedown. It
looked as if she’d gotten a fair way into it, so she must
have read for quite a while. Curious, he tilted his head
so he could see what she’d chosen to read.
Generation Kill: Devil Dogs, Iceman, Captain
America, and the New Face of American War.
John stiffened at the sight of the faceless soldier
dressed in desert camouflage depicted on the cover. He
hadn’t known the book was on the shelf. He hadn’t read
it, didn’t want to.
Why had she spent her afternoon immersed in the
Iraq war? Was she trying to answer questions she hadn’t
felt she could ask him? Or did her curiosity have
nothing to do with him?
A kind of panic flooded him. What had she read in