The Millionaire's Snowbound Seduction

‘That’s right. It wasn’t just your hands and feet that used to turn icy, it was your nose, too. I remember nights when we’d turn over in our sleep so that you’d end up holding me, and I’d wake up because that cute little ice cube was pressed into my back…’

His words trailed off. Their gazes met, held, then slid away.

‘Okay,’ Nick said briskly. He plucked some blankets from beside the sofa and laid them before the hearth. ‘Ah, the wonders of nature. I don’t recall anybody doing this in The Sound Of Music, do you?’

Holly laughed. ‘No.’

‘Yeah, well, maybe they don’t have power failures in the Alps.’ He grabbed the pillow, placed it at one end of the improvised mattress. ‘Ready when you are, Frosty.’

Holly laughed again. She knew what he was doing, making a joke of the fact that they were about to sleep together, but it wasn’t helping. Her mouth was dry; her heart was doing a crazed two-step.

‘Holly?’

She raised her head and focused on Nick’s face. One look told her that he knew what she was thinking.

‘You’ll have your half of the bed, and I’ll have mine. I promise.’

‘Of course,’ she said, and before she could feel like too much of an idiot she scooted off the sofa, onto the blankets he’d arranged, and lay down with her head on the pillow.

Nick layered the remaining blankets over her. Then he lifted one corner, edged beneath the stack, and lay down so that no part of his body was touching hers.

‘Okay?’

‘Fine.’

They lay in silence for a few minutes, and then Nick sighed. ‘We should have brought down that other pillow.’

‘Here. You can use—’

‘No, don’t be—’

They rolled against each other, caught their breaths, and instantly pulled apart.

‘I’ll be fine,’ he said gruffly.

‘You sure?’

‘Positive.’

Silence enveloped them. They lay on their backs, staring at the ceiling, watching the shadows cast by the fire.

All I have to do is reach out my hand, Holly thought…

All I have to do is touch her, Nick thought…

‘Nick?’

Holly’s whisper was tenuous and soft as a sigh. Nick felt his heartbeat accelerate.

‘Yes?’

‘I’m sorry for what I said before. About the chip on your shoulder.’

‘No, that’s okay. You were just being honest.’

‘Yes, but…’ She sighed again. ‘You were a good husband, Nick. It’s just that I…’

‘You wanted somebody else,’ he said, trying not to let the pain show in his words. ‘I understand.’

‘No! Not somebody else. Something else. Something I’d thought you—you and I… Never mind. I just wanted you to know that I didn’t mean to hurt you.’

‘Yeah. Me, too.’

‘You, too, what?’

‘I’m sorry if I said anything that hurt. All that stuff about the Holly Brennan stamp of approval…it wasn’t true. I mean, that’s how it sometimes felt, but…’ He cleared his throat. ‘You were a good wife, Holly. It’s just that I—’

‘I wasn’t the wife you wanted.’

No, he thought, hell, no. It was me. I couldn’t measure up. I wanted only you, Holly. I still want…

‘Here,’ she said, and moved closer. ‘The pillow’s big enough to share.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘I’m sure.’

They lay side by side, sharing the improvised bed and the pillow but as far apart as two human beings who’d once shared their lives with each other could possibly be. The moments slipped past and then Nick thought, The hell with it. He reached for Holly’s hand and clasped it in his.

‘Goodnight,’ he whispered.

Holly blinked hard. Tears burned behind her eyelids.

‘Goodnight, Nick.’

She shut her eyes. He shut his. The fire burned. The wind sighed.

After a while, Nick murmured in his sleep and rolled to his side. He reached out for Holly. For his wife. Lost in her dreams, Holly went straight into his arms.

CHAPTER SIX

NICK awoke alone, in a heap of blankets that still carried Holly’s scent.

His shoulder felt just a little stiff, the way it used to in the mornings when they’d been married. In the days when Holly had still slept the night through with her head tucked just beneath his chin.

That was how she’d slept last night, with her hand splayed over his chest and her leg draped over his…

God, it had felt wonderful.

His smile faded. What good did it do to think such things? She’d probably gone into his arms out of long-remembered habit, nothing more.