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them wide, stepping aside.
    Courtney’s eyes widened as she walked into the room and turned a slow circle around, taking in everything. Mahogany bookcases spanned one wall, floor-to-ceiling windows covered another, and a chair sat adjacent to a small fireplace opposite the windows, next to a beefy, off-centered desk that angled toward the windows.
    Mitch had taken his time with this room.
    “Okay, I was so wrong,” Courtney breathed. “You don’t need a woman’s touch, not if you could come up with something like this.” She walked to the bookcase and ran her fingers along the spines of several of the books. “This is seriously the most beautiful room I’ve ever seen.”
    Her fingers stilled over a spine, and she pulled out a book. She turned to face him, a look of surprise on her face. “You have my books.”
    Mitch pushed away from the desk and moved toward her, taking the book from her hands. “I like them all, but this is my favorite.”
    Her eyes snapped to his. “You’ve read them?”
    “Every word. You’re an amazing writer.”
    Courtney sucked in a quick breath and looked at her feet, but not before Mitch caught a glimpse of moisture pooling in her eyes. She half laughed, half snorted. “I can’t believe I’m crying.” She shook her head. “It’s just... Well, the fact that you’ve read them all means... a lot to me.”
    Mitch replaced the book on the shelf before taking her hands in his, drawing her close. “Want to know why I finished this room first?”
    She nodded, her eyes searching his.
    A pit of nervous anxiety settled in Mitch’s stomach. “Because of you.”
    Silence. Only the widening of her eyes indicated that she’d heard him.
    He felt as though he’d just gotten off the ski lift at the top of a steep mountain with nowhere to go but down a steep run. He drew in a deep breath and pushed off. “Courtney, I’ve always been crazy about you. But when you come back to town, you’re never here long, and you’re always so busy writing that I don’t get to spend much time with you. When I designed this room, I sort of did it with you in mind, thinking that it might entice you to spend some of your writing time over here.” He paused, his fingers trembling in hers. “Every time I’m in here, it reminds me of you, and makes me feel like you’re not so far away and out of reach.”
    “Really?” More tears glistened in Courtney’s eyes, but this time she didn’t blink them away. One slipped out and trailed down her cheek, followed by another.
    Mitch’s thumb moved to her cheek, wiping the tear away. “Really.”
    She sniffed and blinked away the tears. “Then why did you kiss me on the forehead earlier? I wanted it to be a real kiss, and when it wasn’t, I thought it meant that you didn’t care. At least not as much as I did.”
    Her words worked their way into Mitch’s heart, filling and expanding it. Not wanting to waste another second or let this moment pass, he dipped his head and covered her lips with his, showing her exactly how much he did care. Her arms wound around his back and her fingers clung to his shirt as her lips moved against his with increased pressure, searching, seeking, and tasting.
    A feeling of exhilaration flowed through Mitch’s body, filling him with an amazing energy. It was a kiss unlike any he’d ever known. Nothing had ever felt so good, so right. Courtney belonged here, in his arms—not in New York or California or Texas, but here.
    She couldn’t leave again. She couldn’t.
    Courtney finally drew back, looking up with an expression filled with warmth and joy. Mitch smiled as his fingers traced along her jaw line. “If you only knew how long I’ve wanted to do that.”
    “If you only knew how long I’ve waited for you to do that.”
    He chuckled and leaned in for one more kiss, more lightly this time, then led her out of the den and to the great room, where he closed the blinds, dimmed the lights, and started a fire in the fireplace.