Snowbound - Harlequin.com

JANICE KAY JOHNSON
87
She gave him a soft smile. “Don’t worry about it.”
Making a sound of pleasure, she yawned and stretched
luxuriantly. The knit fabric of her turtleneck pulled taut
over her small breasts. “I may have to start napping
every day.”
God. Her voice alone, lazy and satisfied, was enough
to arouse him.
“I shouldn’t have woken you.”
“I made you promise.” Her eyes widened. “Unless
you’re waking me because one of the kids needs
me…?”
“Nope. Just thought I’d start dinner.”
She pressed a hand to her chest. “Thank goodness.
I scared myself for a second there.”
“They’re big kids.”
“And my responsibility.” Her forehead puckered.
“Maybe I should try calling my principal again.”
“Did you remember to turn your phone off?”
“Oh, crap!” She scrambled off the bed. “I don’t
know! And I don’t have a charger…”
“The kids have phones. I have one.”
She swung to face him. “You said you didn’t.”
“I said I didn’t have a landline. I have a cell phone.
It just doesn’t work up here most of the time.”
Groping in the purse that sat on the chest of drawers,
she came up with her phone. “Thank goodness, I did
turn it off.” She dropped it back in the purse. “I’ll try
later, once we get dinner on.”
He nodded, retreating. “I’ll see you downstairs.”
She yawned again and nodded. “Just let me get my
shoes on.”