Snowbound

John’s black 4Runner was nowhere to be seen, but

a row of other vehicles reminded her that she and he

wouldn’t be alone. Far from alone. She counted five

cars and SUVs.

A couple of kids had a blue plastic disk they were

hauling up a short incline perfect for brief runs. A

snowman tilted drunkenly in front of the porch.

She coasted to a stop at the end of the row of parked

cars, set her emergency brake and turned off her engine.

The moment she was out of the car, Fiona breathed in

the crisp, clean air scented by fir. She was early. John

probably wasn’t watching for her yet. She could haul

her suitcase herself, or even leave it in the trunk for

later…

The lodge door opened and he stepped out, his gaze

going straight to her and never leaving her as he crossed

the porch and came down the steps.

Her heart seemed to swell in her chest until it hurt. Like

the lodge, he looked just as she remembered. No, better.

Unbelievably sexy in jeans, boots, a flannel shirt and

down vest, his dark hair shaggier as if he hadn’t cut it

since her visit. As he crossed the snowy ground to her,

his limp was scarcely noticeable. Was he working to hide

it?

Fiona couldn’t seem to move. She simply stood by

the open trunk of her car and waited, drinking in the

sight of him.

He stopped a couple of feet in front of her. “You came.”

Hearing the hoarseness in his voice, she said, “You

didn’t think I would?”

“I…wasn’t sure.”

“After the way I jumped at your invitation?”

Finally, finally, his mouth softened. “You did,

didn’t you?”

“It’s the fresh air,” she teased, finally able to breathe

as an amazing sense of sureness filled her. Of course

she’d done the right thing, coming as soon as she could!

How could she have done anything else, given the way

John made her feel without even touching her?

“We do have fresh air,” he conceded. At last, he took

another step and reached up with one cold hand to cup

her cheek. “God, I’ve missed you,” he murmured, and

bent his head.

It was cold enough out here that her lips felt stiff, but

he warmed them with astonishing speed, taking her

mouth with a thorough kiss in which she felt the same raw

need as in that last, memorable kiss in the laundry room.

A rough sound escaped him as he lifted his head, his

dark eyes devouring in her face. “I kept wishing I had

a picture of you. I ordered a digital camera from

Amazon, so I could take one this time.”

“I had a picture of you,” she confessed. “Kelli took

it with her phone. She took a bunch of the lodge and

everyone, and e-mailed them to all of us. But it was the

one of you…” She stopped, not wanting to admit she’d

made it her computer screen wallpaper so she’d see

him first thing when she turned on the computer, and

last before she turned it off. He obviously hadn’t known

his picture was being taken. It had been out on the porch

in daylight, his face averted. Perhaps because he looked

away, it had captured the sense he gave of holding

himself apart. Even though the photo wasn’t great

quality, the essence of him was there. She could look

at it and remember the rough feel of his hard jaw, the

way firelight cast shadows beneath strong cheekbones,

the way he guarded himself from revealing emotion.

But not now. Now, he looked as if he’d never expected

to see her again. He seemed almost disbelieving.

You came, she heard him say again, with something

very like shock.

“You’re certainly not alone.” She nodded at the row

of parked cars.

“No,” he said, as a childish shout rang out from the

two who were catapulting down the short incline on

their disk. “There are two families with kids.”

The resignation in his voice was familiar, and she

grinned at him. “No. Don’t tell me. Teenagers?”

“One. Sullen, a girl. Maybe twelve or thirteen.”

Fiona nodded. “The words ‘sullen’ and ‘thirteen’ are

synonymous when it comes to girls.”

“Yeah?” He raised his brows, then evidently

searched his memory. “I guess it was that age when