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Snow Baby. Brenda NovakЧитать онлайн книгу.

Snow Baby - Brenda  Novak


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trying not to wake Chantel as he let some of the blood flow back into the arm she was sleeping on. It had been quite a night! He grinned, remembering Chantel’s first warm willing response and the times he’d made love to her since. Sometimes she was a little shy and reserved, sometimes she played the temptress. But the crazy thing was that he couldn’t get enough of her. Even now, just looking at her face, sweet and passive in sleep, he wanted to wake her and lose himself in her arms again.

      “Is the storm over yet?” she asked, her eyelids fluttering open, despite Dillon’s decision to let her sleep.

      “I think so.”

      “Darn.”

      He kissed the tip of her nose. “What does that mean?”

      “They’ll be coming for us.”

      “Isn’t that what we want?”

      Her large eyes gazed up at him, and he caught his breath. Was it possible to fall in love in only one night?

      “I don’t want reality to intrude,” she complained. Then she sighed. “I have to go see my sister. You have your friends waiting for you.” Her silky limbs wrapped around him again, and she kissed his neck. “Mmm, I guess we got a little sweaty last night. You taste salty.”

      He laughed. “We got a lot sweaty, among other things.”

      “It was incredible, wasn’t it?”

      “Good enough that you won’t forget me before we get home?”

      “How could I forget the man who saved my life?”

      “Hey, that’s right! Doesn’t that make you my slave or something?”

      “No!” She tried to wriggle away, but he restrained her.

      “Come on, slave, I’m getting hungry for more of you…”

      She groaned. “You’re insatiable! Not again! I’m tired.” Running her fingers up and down his spine, she massaged the stiff muscles in his back, then pulled him down for a long searching kiss.

      Dillon savored the taste of her, wishing they were at his place so they could get up and take a hot shower together and eat something. “If we were home, I’d make you breakfast in bed,” he told her.

      “Where’s home?”

      “Lafayette.”

      “We live that close to each other?”

      He ran a hand through his sleep-tousled hair. “Yep. And then, after breakfast, I’d get you in the tub and lather your hair and massage your scalp and lick water off the tips of your breasts…”

      “Hmm…maybe I’m not as tired as I thought,” she said, but before Dillon could take her up on the invitation, they heard some kind of heavy machinery moving toward them.

      Chantel groaned. “A snowplow. They’re here, aren’t they?”

      Dillon listened to the noise get louder and louder as the plow made its way through the heavy snow. “That’s my guess.”

      She sighed and studied him, looking somber for the first time that morning. “I haven’t thanked you for coming back for me, Dillon. Who knows how long I would’ve had to wait before the police found me? I couldn’t even give them good directions. What you did was so brave.”

      He wiggled his brows to make her laugh again. “And I’ve been handsomely rewarded.”

      “Roll over and let me hold you,” she said. “Just until they get here.”

      He obeyed, and she curved her body, spoon-fashion, along the back of his.

      “What are we going to do about clothes?” she asked, the noise of the plow nearly drowning out her voice. “I don’t like the idea of being caught in such a vulnerable position.”

      “Don’t worry. I’ll get out and take care of everything. You can stay modestly covered back here.”

      “Thanks, Dillon.”

      “Chantel?”

      “Uh-huh?”

      “Can I call you when we get home?” he asked, half-afraid she’d refuse him for some reason only she knew.

      But a yes sounded in his ear, and he smiled and pulled her arms more tightly around him.

      CHANTEL DREW a deep breath and stared up at the A-frame log cabin that corresponded to the address on the directions Stacy had given her—and wished she was still with Dillon. After all the highs and lows of the past night, she felt physically and emotionally spent. The last thing she wanted to do right now was face her sister.

      If only she hadn’t given her word and could simply head back home—

      “Omigosh, Chantel, what happened to you?” Stacy appeared in the doorway and frowned at the damaged Jaguar. “Now your car doesn’t look any better than my Honda.”

      Chantel gave her a tired grin, feeling awkward and unsure of how to greet her sister. Should she rush over and hug Stacy as though they hadn’t been estranged for ten years? Just smile and wave “hello”?

      Remembering her sister’s cold response the first time Chantel had contacted her—when she’d just returned from New York and had blubbered her way through a painful apology—she opted for the smile and jammed her hands in her pockets. “Would you believe I got stuck in the storm last night and had to wait for the police to bring a tow and get me out?”

      “Are you kidding? Why didn’t you call me?”

      I’ve been worried. For a split second, Chantel hoped to hear those words, but Stacy didn’t add them. “I drove off without the phone number.” She chuckled, feeling her palms start to sweat and wishing, more than ever, that she could climb back in her car and drive away.

      “Are you okay?”

      I’ve been worried.

      Again the words didn’t come. Chantel clenched her fists in the pockets of her baggy jeans. Her sister would never say anything that indicated that she still cared. Why hope?

      “I think I’ll be better after I shower and have something to eat. Tell me this place has hot water.”

      “It does. Everyone else left to go skiing, so the bathrooms are free.”

      “Oh! I’m sorry if waiting for me made you miss the fun.”

      Stacy paused halfway between the door and the Jaguar. “No, actually I’m expecting someone else. He’ll be here anytime.”

      Chantel felt a blush heat her cheeks. What had she been thinking? She forced a smile. “So you’ve met a guy, huh?”

      “Yeah.”

      “You never mentioned him on the phone.”

      “There wasn’t any reason to go into it. I told you I was inviting a few friends, and I did.”

      “Well, tell me about him,” Chantel said, trying to act like any normal sister would. Besides Stacy’s father, who lived a hermit’s life somewhere in New Mexico, they had no family left. Whether either of them wanted to admit it or not, they needed each other.

      Stacy shrugged. “What do you want to know?”

      “Where did you meet?”

      “At the hospital. We’ve known each other for a couple of years.”

      “He’s a doctor?”

      “No, he was there for a meeting with one of the doctors. He was handling the majority of the tenant improvements for the medical building next door.”

      “And you really like him?”

      For a moment Stacy’s hard shell cracked and she gave Chantel a genuine smile. “Like him! You should see him!


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