Page 97 of Snowed In With the Mountain Man
He certainly hoped so. This woman had so much love to give.
The silence stretched and widened as they gazed at one another. That feeling he’d had all day—this sensation that it was just the two of them, alone in this little world they’d created—it was stronger than ever here in the dark and the firelight.
It made him want to whisper every secret and ask for hers in return. He swallowed hard and looked away. Toward the uncomfortable and soon-to-be-frigid couch. He winced.
There was one solution.
One obvious answer to their problems…
He puffed out his cheeks and then scratched the back of his neck as he turned the idea over in his mind. Finally, he blurted it out. “Maybe we could share the bed, and I could keep you warm.”
She studied him for a long moment. He didn’t need to see her eyes to feel her gaze. His skin burned wherever her eyes landed.
“I promise to be the perfect gentleman,” he added.
A slow smile pulled her lips wide, and he suspected that was the confirmation she’d needed. He could understand that. Kissing her had been the best thing he’d ever done. One of the best moments of his life. One he’d treasure forever.
But to take things any further…
Well, that meant thinking about the future. And right now they seemed to be of one mind about that topic. They’d both been content to revel in the present all day, and he wasn’t about to mess with perfection.
After a brief silence, she flipped the covers down and scooted over. “That’d be nice. Thanks.”
He climbed in beside her, and for a moment, his senses were overwhelmed by the intimacy of it—her scent, her warmth, the softness of her body as she rolled into him, letting him wrap his arm around her.
She burrowed into his body with another shiver before sighing her contentment as her head nestled against his shoulder.
“That’s much better,” she whispered.
He smiled and rubbed her arms and back, trying to get her even warmer. Her head was tucked beneath his chin, and he tipped down to kiss her forehead. “Get some sleep, Lia. You’ve had quite a day.”
He felt her smile against his shoulder, and her breath was warm on his neck. “I’ve had the best day.”
His heart stopped for a beat before kicking and slamming its way back into action against his ribs.
Her voice had been so soft and sleepy, he wasn’t sure she’d even meant to say it aloud.
“Me too, Lia,” he murmured, even though he knew by the way her breathing slowed that she’d drifted off to sleep already. His arms tightened around her, and he kissed the top of her head. “I’ve had the best day of my life.”
And with that, he drifted off himself.
When he woke, the cabin was bright with sunlight, and the smell of coffee filled the air. He rolled over, disappointed to find the bed empty. But a second later, Dahlia’s voice called out to him.
“Morning, sleepyhead.”
He propped himself up on his elbows and grinned at the sight of her. Now he knew—Dahlia was a morning person.
He also now knew that tousled bedhead was an excellent look on her, and without makeup and her face scrubbed clean, she was the prettiest woman on the planet.
And as she came toward him with a steaming mug, padding along in socks on the hardwood floor and drowning in one of his woolen sweaters, one other thing became clear.
He was absolutely smitten.
“Black, just the way you like it.” She grinned, sitting on the bed beside him as he took the mug from her with a grateful smile.
“How long have you been up?” he asked.
She shrugged, her gaze roaming toward the couch where her laptop was sitting open. “Long enough to do all the work I could offline.” Her features screwed up. “Which wasn’t a lot.”
