Page 15 of A Snowed in Valentine's

Cops,she thought as she rushed to the nearest window and poked her head out to gaze down at the street below.

She was wrong on both counts.

From three stories up, she had a pretty good view of her street and the next. There was rarely any traffic. But it was the vehicles pulling up right in front of her apartment building that caught Daphne’s eye. Half a dozen sleek, black SUVs screeched to a haltoutside her building, blocking the road. They weren’t cop cars or ambulances. As she and a few bystanders on the street watched, the doors opened, and several men hopped out, some wearing suits, others in tactical gear. All were armed and spread out to surround the building.

Oh, fuck me.

Chapter Five

“I Don’t Trust You”

The blizzard only seemed to grow stronger as the days passed, and August was starting to worry. A storm this fierce would not stop soon. As much as he considered himself prepared for regular blizzards, there was nothing regular about this one. It had been over two weeks since the storm began, nearly two weeks of being snowed in.

And just over a week since Daphne had drunk the potion and slipped back into unconsciousness.

The witch still hadn’t come to. He might as well be alone in the cabin, not that he minded it. He’d spent many years of his life in solitude, especially since the tragedy. This wasn’t much different.

It didn’t matter that there happened to be a woman in his bed who occupied his mind even while she was unconscious. Or that the sight of her had drawn the breath from his lungs and fueled him with desire.

He’d slipped her clothes back on a few days ago after concluding that her semi-nude body was an unnecessary distraction. But days had passed, and he could hardly stop thinking about the way she’d looked, stretched out underneath him with those sensuous lips parted and her breasts heaving in that inviting rhythm. Or the momentary feel of her silky lips as they brushed against his.

He supposed he was frustrated by spending all this time alone because of the blizzard. Solitude was a choice. Right now, he was practically a prisoner in his own home. He couldn’t leave the cabin even if he wanted to, not with the walls of snow surrounding the building.

And it was all the witch’s fault.

No wonder you can’t get her out of your head,he told himself.All this snow is a reminder of her presence, of what she’s capable of.

Maybe if he killed her, it would reverse the spell she’d cast.

Maybe,he thought, stirring the food in a small pot suspended over the flames in the fireplace.Maybe not.

Well, maybe,said that familiar snide voice in his mind,if you stopped cooking and feeding the witch, she’d die on her own, and you wouldn’t even have to lift a finger. Problem solved.

He couldn’t deny the logic in that thought. Even if he wasn’t actually going to kill her, he wasn’t obliged to help her stay alive, especially after the awkward position she’d put him in. So why was he helping her?

Because you’re crazy, you’re going crazy. She must have done something to you.

“A man cooking?” said a voice behind him. “Now, there’s something you don’t see every day.”

He whirled about, clutching the metal ladle like a weapon. Leaning against his bedroom doorframe, her arms crossed, was Daphne. She had a slight smirk on her face. Thankfully, that wasn’t the only thing she was wearing, he thought, feeling a wave of carnal desire slam into him.

“I live alone,” he replied evenly, returning the ladle to the pot. Then he muttered, “At least, I used to.”

Alaina’s wide eyes stared at him as a bright light seemed to engulf her. It was just the reminder he needed to cool his desire, he thought wryly.

With a slight grunt, she stepped into the living room, sinking heavily onto one of the wooden chairs close to the fireplace.

“I just got arrested,” she said with a sigh, “by the feds.”

He frowned at her, resisting the urge to ask what afedwas. “What are you talking about?”

“Back on Earth,” she said as if that made any more sense. When he didn’t respond, she said, “I’ve been traveling back and forth between Earth and Frost Mountain. At least, that’s what I think is happening.”

August nearly scoffed. Was she crazy? All that sleep must have taken a toll on her mind, or perhaps she was in shock from the plane crash. No, she was definitely crazy. He found that thought more satisfying.

“No one can leave Frost Mountain,” he told her, with the air of someone speaking to a child. “It’s impossible. There are only ways in. No way out. It—”

“I know how Frost Mountain works,” she said, to his surprise, cutting him off. “Trust me, I’ve known about this place since I was a child. I came to this world thinking I could fix the problem, create a way home, set everyone free.”

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