waiting for her dad. Right?”
“Yes—” Michelle nodded and put hope into her voice “—he should be along anytime.”
Elle’s mom looked down the empty drive and frowned. “I don’t like leaving you alone out here.”
“I have to stay in the courtyard,” Michelle reassured her. “I’ll be fine.”
“Elle, I think we should ask your friend to keep us company until her dad comes along.”
“Yeah.” Elle grabbed Michelle’s hand, swung it back and forth. “Come with us. Your dad can find us when he gets here.”
“Maybe.” Michelle bit her lip. She should wait for Daddy. She was excited to show her dad around camp, to tell him what she’d learned, and how much she loved her time here. More than anything she wanted him to hear her sing and to impress on him that she should come back next year. But the truth was he probably wouldn’t even show. He meant his promises when he made them, yet the need to protect and serve took first place every time.
But Elle’s daddy thought Michelle was pretty and she wanted to go with them.
“I guess I can look around with you until he gets here.”
“Yippee!” Elle smiled and together they skipped ahead.
They showed Elle’s parents the cabin and the pool. And when they headed back to the main cabin, The Castle, Michelle looked around hopefully and glanced toward the parking lot, but saw no sign of her dad.
She got ready for the talent show with Elle and Amanda and pretended not to be nervous as she checked the audience repeatedly for her father.
“Come on, Michelle.” Amanda grabbed her hand and tugged her away from the wings. “It’s our turn.”
Michelle frantically searched the crowd one last time but there was no denying the inevitable. Another promise broken. Daddy wouldn’t see her sing. She sighed her disappointment and followed her friends onstage.
CHAPTER ONE
HANDS braced on his hips, Sheriff Nate Connor stood looking down at the strange beauty sleeping on his couch. Rolled up in his fleece throw, purple-and-pink-striped socks peeked out from one end and sunshine-yellow hair cascaded from the other.
With a muffled curse he holstered the nine millimeter he’d palmed when he found his front door unlocked. Not that he’d really expected to need it, but a soldier was always prepared. Even in River Run, where the population was less than five thousand.
Luck and skill had kept him from shooting himself when he tripped over the guitar case negligently left in the entry hall.
He considered reaching for his handcuffs, but the woman wasn’t a complete stranger. He’d seen sufficient pictures here in this house and on his predecessor’s desk to recognize the pretty flow of hair. He was enough of a lawman to figure out she was his new landlord.
And they’d met briefly at her father’s funeral seven months ago.
Yeah, he knew who sleeping beauty was. The question was why?
Why was she here and why did she think she could make herself at home on his couch?
He’d had his own plans for that couch. Today was supposed to have been his first day off in over a month. The storm changed that. An overnight delivery truck had skidded on ice and ended up on its side in the pass, blocking traffic in both directions. By the time they got it cleared up, they were in the middle of a full-blown blizzard, and he’d given up any hope of regaining his day off.
A surge of wind knocking branches against the house punctuated the thought.
After a ten-hour day, he’d planned to come home, heat up a frozen dinner and watch the game he’d recorded earlier.
Plans delayed by his uninvited guest’s possession of said couch.
A soft snore came from the fleece-wrapped bundle. Nate’s dark brows slammed together in a scowl. Now that was irritating. Not because the sound annoyed him, but because it didn’t. It had been cute.
He had no room in his life for soft and cute, no patience for trespassing blondes interrupting the last of his day off.
In the past seven months he’d heard nothing from Michelle Ross. Now she slept tucked up on his couch. She may own the place but he had a contract stating it was his for the next four months. He didn’t know what brought her to town, but she wasn’t staying here.
A matter he meant to take up with her right now.
“Ms. Ross.”
No response.
“Ms. Ross.” Advancing on the couch, he repeated the demand for her attention, and then again, louder each time. She stirred and then settled against the cushions, sighing as she pulled the throw tighter around herself.
Finally he leaned down and shook her shoulder. “Come on, beauty, wake up.”
She stirred and mumbled something.
Instinctively, he leaned closer to hear what she said.
But suddenly she turned and her lips brushed his. That’s when her eyes opened. Lovely eyes that brought the green of spring to a late-winter’s storm. And that thought distracted him long enough for her to wrap her arms around his neck and draw him down for a deeper kiss.
Questions of who and why and what disappeared in a rush of sensation. She felt warm and soft, and tasted oh, so sweet. This was what home should feel like, what a welcome should taste like.
Nate threaded his hands in all that hair and sank into the moment. After the day he’d had, he let the heat of the kiss sweep him away.
Michelle dreamed of a man on a white horse riding through the forest. Tall and strong, he carried a sword and sought a beautiful princess, ready to save her from all her woes. Michelle was both the princess and not. She liked the safety the knight represented, but it never came free and she wanted to save herself.
Only fools and optimists believed in love. Which left her out. She was nobody’s fool. And she’d given up on optimism early in life. She preferred to control her own destiny than hope for the best.
Now the knight was on top of her, holding her gently, his hands fisted in her hair, broad shoulders blocking out the world. He smelled like the fleece that held her in warmth and comfort, of the woods and man. But he was heat and power and his lips were on hers and she didn’t care if there was a price. Safe had never felt so good.
She arched into the kiss, opening her lips at the demand of his, welcoming him in, savoring the spicy taste of the man who held her so securely.
His hand moved in a sweeping caress from her head to her waist, where skin met skin. The shock of his cold fingers reached beyond Michelle’s lethargy.
Her eyes flew open and she realized this was no dream, no Prince Charming of childish imaginings, but a flesh-and-blood man with a bold kiss and cold hands.
She broke
