Page 37 of Snowed In on Valentine's Day

But a ghost might’ve been better because … wow, he was close. So close I felt his warm breath and had to bend my neck to meet his eyes, given our height difference.

Backing away a few inches, I tried to catch my breath. “Sorry—uh, I overreacted again. This house makes me jumpy for some reason.”

He merely stared, his eyebrows slightly drawn together, and his hand twitched at his side.

Was he mad? Confused? Turned on? About to cry? I couldn’t read him, and it rattled me. I couldn’t stand the silence. “You have Jane Austen on your shelf? How is that possible?”

He raised an eyebrow almost imperceptibly but said nothing.

“I mean, it wasn’t there yesterday. I swear it.”

His lips parted, but still, he remained silent. I couldn’t read him. At all.

“You’re looking at me like … I don’t know,” I said, uncertainty in my voice. “Like I’m crazy.”

He shook his head, and his mouth twitched, almost as though he was about to laugh. “No. Not crazy.”

His eyes seemed darker than usual, and he was leaning forward slightly. For a moment, I thought …

No, he’s not interested in me.

“I can’t tell what you’re thinking,” I admitted softly. “Are you angry with me?”

“No.”

“Well, what then?”

Finally, he tore his eyes away and looked past me at the bookshelf for a moment. “I came to—” His voice halted when his eyes returned to me. “To …” His voice trailed off, and he shook his head briefly. “To focus. I mean, to apologize.”

My eyes were wide as I stared back at this man who was clearly flustered, standing before me as though he’d forgotten why he had come. As though he’d forgotten his name. This hardly seemed like the Peter I’d come to know. “Are you all right?”

His lids were heavy as he slowly exhaled. “I don’t know.” He flexed his hand at his side. “No.”

Now IknewI was crazy because his eyes—his whole posture—spoke of something I’d never seen from him, never wanted to see from him, and surely never thought I’d see.

Desire.

My heart pounded in my chest as I searched his face for clues. I must be misinterpreting because there’s no way he … he …

The distance between us shortened as he leaned forward, or maybe I did—or we both did. My chest rose and fell with shallow breaths as I gazed at his slightly parted lips and then back up to his eyes, which were directed at my mouth. My fingers ached to reach out, to comb through his short, silky dark hair that was neatly cut yet less refined than usual tonight.

Suddenly I gripped his arms, but not in desire.

Fear.

A loud crash echoed in my ear, and I clung to him as my heart rate skyrocketed further.

“What was that?” I whispered, terror coursing through me.

He frowned, loosening my grip on his arms as his gaze cleared. “I don’t—I don’t know. But please, relax. It’s probably just … maybe something fell upstairs.”

My eyes were wide as I fought to stay calm. “Re-relax? It could be—”

“Look, it’s not like a bomb dropped on the house. I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation,” he said, moving away as his brow furrowed in concentration. “I’ll go look around.”

“No, wait!” I said, grabbing his hand. When he stilled, I pleaded, “Don’t leave me here alone.”

He looked at me oddly and then nodded, taking my hand as he led me toward the back of the house through the hallway that had freaked me out before. I tried to take steady breaths as I followed his quick pace.

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