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to elevate his right leg, and then sank back against the blanket. Just when he thought the setup was perfect and he could doze off, he realized that he couldn’t see Daisy’s face from that angle—her whole body was in shadow. That wouldn’t do, so he had to refix the log and blankets and pillow all over again.
    By then he was wasted-tired and getting cranky from the day’s various aches and injuries. But he could see her. If a guy had to be miserable, she was the best diversion he could conceivably imagine.
    There were dark shadows under those gorgeous eyes. Didn’t matter. She’d be striking if she were dead-sick with the flu. She had the bones, the style, the attitude. No one was going to miss noticing Daisy Campbell—at least no guy was, not in this life.
    She wasn’t, though, even remotely the way she billed herself.
    For a woman who complained about being stuck with him—and yelled loudly to the sheriff how desperate she was to get him off her hands—she didn’t act remotely thrown about taking responsibility for an injured stranger. In fact, she was taking no-fanfare, no-fuss, damn good care of him. She also acted sassy and snappy, but those hands of hers were gentle and so was the concern in her eyes.
    Every contradiction seemed more interesting than the last. For a woman who looked as if French couture was her raison d’être, she sure made a feast out of an ordinary cup of potato soup. And although she carried herself as if a ton of servants usually trailed after her, she’d shown a ton of practical common sense about storm survival.
    He didn’t get it.
    He didn’t get her.
    Something strange was happening here. Really strange. Teague didn’t like surprises. He didn’t mind being attracted to her—hell, no man had control over that. His you-know-what couldn’t tell whether a woman was potentially catastrophic or not. But his brain did.
    She’d given him the message loud and clear that she was a rolling stone.
    He’d fallen in love with one of those once before. Had no reason to volunteer to be kicked in the head a second time.
    Still. There was no harm in just looking at that spectacularly interesting face. It was one of those favorite guy fantasies, being marooned with a beautiful woman with no one else around. It’s not as if there were any chance of their getting close. Hell, he couldn’t imagine laying a finger on her.
    Teague couldn’t have closed his eyes, because that howling wind was itching on his nerves, and he hurt in too many places to really rest.
    But suddenly his eyes opened. Any man’s would. Because out of nowhere there seemed to be an extremely warm, mobile, voluptuous woman plastered against him.
    More than his eyes popped up, in fact. It occurred to him that the same woman pressing warm, firm, full breasts against his chest and winding a leg around his hip, was precisely the same one he’d just sworn—seconds before—that he’d never lay a finger on.
    â€œYou’re awake, Teague? Don’t get shook. It’s just me.”
    Maybe it was pitch-black in the room, give or take the yellow firelight behind the screen, but he fully, fully realized who was wrapped around him.
    â€œWe lost power. Since it was already down across the road, it’s really amazing we had it this long—especially in this kind of snowstorm. When it’s morning and there’s more light, I’ll go down to the basement, see if I can get the Cunninghams’ generator fired up. For right now, though, we’re sealed up in this room as tightly as we can be. I know it’s cold and getting colder. The fire alone can’t keep up with subzero temperatures like this. But if we stay close, combine blankets and body heat, we’ll be fine.”
    â€œOkay.”
    â€œWe could be snowed in for a couple more days, but there’s no way it’ll be longer than that before someone