Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92529 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92529 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
He wanted to know more about Hope. A fact that made him uncomfortable. Muttering to himself, he returned to his computer and got back to it.
Aside from taking a break for some lunch, Mitchell stayed in the room.
By himself.
Alone.
Outside, the storm continued to rage and grew stronger as the hours passed. Getting up to stretch, he ambled to the window and stared out into the vast nothingness of Vermont’s wilderness.
A soft knock came on the door, and he gave a final look outside before allowing the heavy curtain to settle back over the glass.
“Yes?”
Any further words dried up on his tongue as he stared down at Hope. She gave a small smile, uncertain almost.
“Did you forget your key?” He cocked an eyebrow.
Her face was flushed and he stepped back to allow her entrance.
Hope hesitated before moving by him with barely a brush of skin and a tempting whiff of a light floral scent.
“No. I didn’t want to disturb you. Trying to stay out of your way.” She gestured to the small pile of clothes that he’d brushed his fingers across not that long ago. “I was a bit cold, so I came to add a layer.”
He strode to his bag and dug for one of his sweatshirts. Mitchell balled it in his fist and turned back to her. She wasn’t even looking at him but staring down. He was used to women vying for his attention, even after he’d gotten married. They would look at him and see dollar signs.
After a slow drawn-out moment between them, Hope lifted her gaze to his. He witnessed the refusal in her eyes before she opened her mouth.
“Hope,” he said with a firm headshake. “Your clothes are in a car off a mountain road. Hell, we both know it actually slid down by the time we pulled away. Take the sweatshirt.”
And yes, a primitive craving to see her in his clothes again rushed through him.
“I’ve been enough of a burden. I don’t need to take more of your clothes.”
He shook his head even as he moved closer to her. “Been a long time since I’ve had to beg a woman to wear my clothes.”
“Does that make me your first, then?”
His lips twitched as she tossed his words back at him.
Her eyes sparkled and for whatever reason his cold heart beat a little faster. Mitchell held the item out.
“Hope.”
Her lips twitched before she shrugged and reached for the sweatshirt. “I warned you, so don’t try to complain later. Taking advantage. All part of my grand plan.”
“Put it on.”
She listened and he realized something. He enjoyed seeing her draped in his clothes. When she vanished behind the cotton he stared at her full hips and strong thighs. Lust stirred. Then her head popped free and her loose curls tumbled from the haphazard bun they’d been in.
God, she looked deliciously rumpled. He watched her eyes flutter down. Those eyelashes of hers were long, thick, and curved as they brushed her smooth cheeks. On the heels of the motion a low groan slid free.
“Warmth, oh this is nice.” She lifted her arms, her fingers not even close to peeking out the sleeves, and removed her hair from under the collar. Her grin was soft and a bit shy, even as it tempted. “Thank you.”
Without thinking, he guided her to sit on the bed, returned to his bag and grabbed some socks. He crouched before her and put a pair of wool ones on over hers.
“You aren’t a burden. You can wear my clothing. You already said you liked how I smelled.” A pause as he cocked an eyebrow. “Was that a lie?”
“No. It may have been blurted out during a moment of my insanity but, no, it was most definitely not a lie.” Instead of backing away, she leaned closer. “Will you come downstairs?”
It was his turn to refuse. No matter how much he wanted to accept. Or ask her to stay with him. Only.
“No.”
Hope reached up to his face, paused, then he experienced an all-too-brief tantalizing brush of her fingers.
“Thank you for saving me, again.”
Her touch fell away. Mitchell helped her to her feet and she gave him a slow appraising look. If she had been anyone else, or if he hadn’t been so drawn to her, he would be thinking they were plotting something to get him in a compromising position. With Hope, it was nothing more than appreciation of his looks and gratitude.
Or so he wished.
“I’ll leave you to it then.” She bent to retrieve her hair band.
Mitchell watched as his sweatshirt rode up as she drew up her locks. How had he not known that it was so arousing to watch a woman do something with her hair?
Even when he’d first been married, that move from Shawnee had not once affected him like this innocent action.