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himself sick over his missed
meeting.
    Her lithe body slid across the sagging
mattress into him. For a moment he thought her ready to bolt from
bed and return to the frigid safety of the chair. Although he heard
her gasp as their bodies touched, he made no sound, no movement to
indicate he knew of her presence.
    His every sense heightened and he gave thanks
the overly soft mattress was like a marshmallow hammock. He smelled
her hair, almost identified the shampoo she used. Her floral scent
mixed with the smells of the hay she had fed the cattle earlier. He
imagined how she would taste, visualizing her warm mouth molded
perfectly to his.
    Gradually the rigidity left her body as she
loosened her grip on the edge of the mattress and relaxed against
him. Cold satin skin nestled against his heat. Try as he might, he
couldn’t rein in his lustful thoughts with her this near.
    Feigning sleep, he turned and spooned himself
to her. His hand brushed against silk, lace, and her skin. He
wondered what color underwear she wore and his blood boiled.
    She gasped again and reached for the edge of
the mattress. "What do you think you’re doing? I know very well
you're not asleep, Trent Macleod."
    "How could I sleep with your popsicle toes
touching my legs?” That was the truth even if she weren’t the
tastiest morsel of woman he’d met in a long time. Like ever.
    He figured he’d better reassure her or he’d
never get any sleep. “Look, this is a six foot bed. You may have
noticed that I’m several inches longer than the mattress. I don't
intend to have my feet dangling out in the cold. If I sleep
diagonally, that won't leave you any room. Either we sleep spooned
with your back against my chest and our knees bent, or we sleep
with my back against your, um, chest with our knees bent."
    “ You’d better not try anything or I
swear I’ll make sure you sing soprano.”
    "Hey, don’t blame me for the cold, the lousy
mattress, or the situation. I told you we'll be much warmer if we
share body heat, remember?"
    She shivered. "That's the only reason I'm
here. I've never been so cold in my life."
    "And here I thought it was because hell had
frozen over." He nuzzled her neck and pulled her close. "Right? Put
those little popsicles toes between my legs to thaw."
    She nudged the tips of her feet between his
calves.
    Hell, her feet were icicles. "You've had quite a day, Princess.
Damn, I never thought I would see you feeding cattle and
chickens."
    He chuckled again, this time at the memory of
her swathed in cashmere and suede boots working in a barn. "What
kind of nut would wave a muffler at a steer to stop him? Haven't
you seen how a bull fighter riles the bull?"
    She elbowed him in the ribs. "You find that
funny? All I can think of is that we almost died today. If we
hadn't found this house we would have frozen to death." She
shivered and snuggled closer into him. "We're not that far from it
now."
    "Give me a little more credit than that. I
know you don't approve of my management style, but you surely don't
think I would let us freeze to death in a stranded car?"
    "It's happened to people before. You hear of
it almost every winter. Years ago Grandpa’s cousin froze when his
car slid off the road on his way home from work.”
    “ Did he just wait in the car or go for
help?”
    “ He started walking, but froze. We’re
in ranch country and sometimes there are ten or fifteen miles
between houses out here, too far to walk for help. This is the
worst blizzard I can remember. I'm sure it's setting some sort of
record that has nothing to do with your management style. Don't
even get me started on that."
    "Then how about telling me why you
deliberately sent us down the wrong road?"
    He heard her quick intake of breath. He
wondered if she would refuse to answer until she exhaled slowly.
"It...it wasn't the wrong road. Not exactly."
    He squeezed her and she elbowed him again.
Damn, if she didn't stop squirming her shapely rear end against
him, he