Snowbound Sweetheart

“Sure. Need some help?”

“No, thank you.”

By the time she’d struggled through the wind and snow, retrieved her belongings and made it to the door of their room, she wished she hadn’t been quite so fiercely independent. She could admit to herself, if not to her companion, that it would’ve been really nice to run for the door and leave the carrying to Gil’s strong shoulders.

He was waiting for her and immediately closed the door behind her, shutting out the storm.

She covered her face with her hands, grateful to feel the warmth against her chilled cheeks. “Thanks,” she muttered, leaning against the wall.

“It’s brutal out there. And you didn’t get your coat on.”

“It seemed easier just to gather it up and run,” she said, raising her head and smiling wearily at Gil.

Over his shoulder, she took in the room.

“I see our room is as out of date as—”

When her gaze focused on the major piece of furniture in the small room, she couldn’t continue. She just stared at it instead.

Then she stared at Gil.

“You’re not surprised,” she accused.

He turned to look at the double bed. As if to remind himself of what she’d discovered. “No, I’m not. The clerk told me there was only one bed. But I was hoping for king-size.”

“What are we going to do?” Sudden visions of sharing the bed with Gil, a large man, and sexy as could be, left her mouth dry.

“We’re going to get some sleep. And I promise that’s all we’re going to do, so don’t give me any virginal protests. You’re safe.”

Of course she was. The dratted man had made it more than clear he had no interest in her. But was she safe from herself?

“You could sleep on the floor,” she suggested, finding the air suddenly thin.

“So could you. I thought you were a feminist, wanting to prove you’re as strong as any guy. Want to draw for the bed?”

The immediate outrage that filled her had her reconsider her reaction. He was right. She’d fought for being equal to her brothers, but when things got difficult she wanted special treatment?

“No. There’s no point in either of us being uncomfortable. We’ll share.” If he could control himself, she was sure she could do the same. She hoped. It wasn’t as if she had an uncontrollable libido. In fact, she’d never understood others’ fascination with sex.

But the itchiness she’d been feeling all afternoon in the car, because of this man, had her reevaluating her previous experience.

“The bathroom is, uh, pretty small, too,” Gil said, as if giving her the rest of the bad news now that she’d remained calm about the bed.

She moved to the door just past the bed and peeked into the bath. Gil had understated its size. Postage stamp might be more accurate. No tub. Only a small shower, sink and toilet. So much for the thought of a hot, soaking bath.

More shivers brought her attention to another disappointment. The room wasn’t warm.

“Is the heater on? Can we turn it up? I’m still cold,” she said, looking around the room.

“It’s a lot warmer than outside, but definitely not toasty,” Gil agreed. He crossed the room to the small controls on the wall by the door. Sighing, he turned to face her. “I’m afraid it’s on high.”

Lindsay moaned in disappointment.

Damn, she had to stop making that noise. It made Gil think of long nights of mindless sex. Which warmed him up a little in spite of the inadequacies of the furnace.

He turned his mind to food, a safer subject than sex. Especially since he’d given his word that he’d keep his hands off of her. He hoped he hadn’t been overly optimistic. After all, she was a beauty.

She’d surprised him with her calm acceptance not only of the one room but also the one bed. He’d expected a tantrum, like Amanda had been capable of. She’d demanded luxury no matter what the circumstances.

“Want to give me some idea of what you want for dinner?” he asked, waiting for a long list of preferences.

She actually grinned at him. “I don’t eat liver. I’m not fond of fish—or spinach. Anything else is fine. And I wouldn’t say no to a candy bar. Stress makes me crave chocolate.”

He couldn’t resist tracing her slim form with his gaze. She must normally live a stress-free life. Otherwise she’d be several sizes larger. Which made her agreeableness even more amazing. He’d been attracted to her beauty from the beginning. Now, he was drawn to that grin, that twinkle in her hazel eyes.

“I’ll see what I can find.”

“Wait!” she called out as he turned to the door.

Before he knew what she intended, she’d looped a red cashmere scarf around his neck. “I noticed you didn’t have a muffler. This will keep your face warm,” she assured him as she tied it.

Her arms were around his neck, securing the scarf and he froze, aware that it wouldn’t take much movement to pull her into his embrace, to warm her body with his. But he didn’t move. He’d promised.

Against the soft cloth, he muttered, “I’ll be right back.”

He stepped out into the storm, scarcely noting the frigid conditions. It reminded him of that song, “Let It Snow,” with the words that said the singer would stay warm if he got a hug before he left.

He’d always laughed at that silliness, but even the thought of an embrace from Lindsay had him steaming.

He returned a few minutes later with a variety of food, none of it gourmet. He’d nuked several pre-packaged hamburgers in the microwave, picked up the last two egg salad sandwiches wrapped in cellophane, grabbed a couple of bags of chips and selected several chocolate candy bars.

Lindsay deserved any treat he could find.

When he burst into the motel room, slamming the door behind him, he was immediately assailed by the aroma of hot coffee. “You made the coffee!” he exclaimed.

“I said I would,” she replied. “I figured it might be the only way we’ll get warm tonight. In fact, I might even soak my feet in coffee later on. They feel like blocks of ice.”

He swallowed his “told you so” thought about the shoes she’d chosen to wear. No point in starting an argument when they had an entire night to get through together. “Want to see what’s for dinner?”

“Yes,” she said, coming around the bed.

He pulled the two hamburgers from inside his coat. “These are still warm, but we’d better eat them fast. These sandwiches are the second course. Chips to accompany either or both. And, ta-da,” he called, as if presenting the pièce de résistance, “chocolate for dessert.”

“Bless you,” she said, taking her share of his offerings.

Gil hadn’t believed she’d be pleased with his selections. Pleased? Hell, he’d expected her to turn her nose up at all of it.

She surprised him even more when she put her food down and returned to the other side of the bed to pour both of them a cup of coffee before starting to eat.