Page 74 of Snow Bound

She’d used the eye makeup exactly as he’d envisioned. Her eyes looked smoky and heavy-lidded, the eyeliner thickly drawn. And she’d used a generous hand with the mascara.

She looked lovely. Polished, sophisticated, and if things went well, she’d look the exact opposite by the time he was done.

He gave her hands a little squeeze. “Ready?”

She laughed, a nervous little giggle. “For what? I have no idea what’s going on.”

“You’re about to be interrogated,” he told her, and dropped her hands to slip a band of black cloth out of his pocket.

“I am?”

He drew the cloth through his hands, watching her face. “Are you up for that?”

She pressed a shaking hand to her belly. “I think so?”

“I’m not going to use anything that you haven’t marked as a yes on your list,” he reminded her, “but it could get intense. What are your safewords?”

“Yellow for slow down or pause, red for stop.” She swallowed, her eyes darting between the blindfold in his hands and his face. “Green for go.”

“Use them if you need them.” He leaned down to brush a soft kiss over her mouth, careful not to muss her lipstick—yet. “Do you need to do anything before we get started? Eat something, drink something, use the bathroom?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Okay, then.” He held up the narrow band of cloth. “Close your eyes.”

Her eyes stayed on his, nerves and arousal alive in their velvety depths. Then she drew a steadying breath, let it out slowly, and closed her eyes.

Grant swallowed the lump in his throat. The display of trust was both staggering and wildly arousing, and he had to take a second to make sure his hands were steady before he slipped the length of stretchy cotton over her head.

He was careful to place the seam at the back of her head, trying not to pull at her hair as he settled it in place. It was actually a headband, according to the description online, but it made a perfect blindfold. Not too tight, stretchy and breathable, wide enough to cover her eyes and thick enough she couldn’t see through it.

He rested his hands lightly on her shoulders so she’d know where he was. “Can you see anything?”

“A little bit of light,” she replied, her fingers fluttering up to pat at the cloth. “But nothing else.”

“Good.” He slid his hands in a gentle stroke down her arms, back up again. “How does that make you feel?”

“Nervous,” came the immediate response. “Excited.”

“Good.” He reached down for her right hand, bringing it up and drawing it through the crook of his arm. “I’m going to lead you where we need to go, all right?”

She nodded, and her other hand came to grip his forearm. “Okay.”

“Easy, normal steps,” he told her, and started walking. “I’ll warn you when we get to the stairs.”

“Stairs?” Her head turned as though to look behind her at the stairs she’d just left, and he bit back a laugh.

“Not those stairs.”

They walked in silence for a moment, the only sound the click of their shoes on the floor and Anna’s thickening breathing until they got to the basement door.

“I’m opening a door now,” he told her, and drew her forward onto the landing. “There’s a railing to your left. Reach out and put your hand on it.”

Her hand lifted from his arm, and he waited until she’d located the railing and had a good grip. “Now, with your right foot, step down.”

Her head swiveled toward him. “Down?”

“Down.”

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